Page 2 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

“There was debt that your uncle was owed before he died. One that he wasn’t able to collect because, well, he died.” She rolled her eyes like it was the long-dead Nick’s fault for dying. “I want that debt collected before I go anywhere. She’s owed it to me for almost 27 years now. It’s time she paid up.”

This was some debt then. Matteo suspected he knew who it was, he’d heard whispers over the years, and had once spent an evening reading old newspaper articles and wiki pages about his uncle’s death. He’d died with a movie starlet in his car, a movie starlet that was pregnant at the time. She’d disappeared into obscurity, never to be heard from again, but Matteo knew that Celeste hadn’t forgotten.

She’d been humiliated over the circumstances of Nick’s death, that he’d been out all night with the starlet and then had the gall to die in the car she was in. He couldn’t even live long enough to die alone in the ambulance or the hospital. Oh no, he’d died with that starlet’s arms around him. Not that Celeste would have been anywhere near Nick’s no doubt bloodied body, Mateo had mused. She wouldn’t defile herself like that.

And now she’d decided it was time for payback. Matteo took the manila folder and left the study without another word. There didn’t need to be, Celeste would take anything he had to say now as questioning, and Celeste was not to be questioned. If he had a question, he had to find the answer himself.

He drove back home in his dark blue Maserati Ghibli S G4 GranSport, a gift from his aunt when he graduated from NYU with a business degree. An old car now but he still loved and maintained it to the highest standards, his own. He thought as he drove carefully, skillfully, along the congested roads that would take him back to his apartment on the outskirts of the city.

He glanced at the file when he stopped for a red light but didn’t pick it up. He would wait and think for now. She’d taught him that, to think carefully before he took action. He’d have to put quite a few things on hold here to take care of business down there, but it didn’t matter. There’d be someone to deal with those matters, his aunt would make sure of it.

He pulled into the parking garage of his building and parked on the top floor. This was the floor that held the elevator for his part of the building, the very top. He used a keycard to get into the elevator and then into the sole penthouse apartment. His view allowed him to see the tallest buildings in the city that he liked to look at but didn’t necessarily like to be in. His keys went on the hook beside the door and his shoes, loafers of the finest Italian leather, came off and went into a small nearby closet.

The press of a button turned on the sound system and Sting began to croon about fields and desert beauties. He went into his dark living room, turned on a lamp made from some kind of salt the designer told him about, and sat on the leather sectional sofa. With his back against the couch arm, he opened the file and began to read.

The first few pages were old magazine pages, interviews the starlet, Ruby Heinz, had given a very long time ago. They were typical of the era and talked about the furnishings in the room and the clothing brands she wore. She told the interviewer about her movie project and how she’d had to reach deep to portray her character accurately, to identify with the woman she’d played.

The article didn’t mention that the apartment and clothes had been paid for by Celeste’s husband, or that she was pregnant at the time. Those were matters that were noted by more pages. Lease payment records, store receipts, and the hospital records and payment receipts for one Ruby Hebert, AKA Ruby Heinz.

There was no further background information. It would seem the woman had come from the swamps and had left a trail of secrecy behind her. People wouldn’t talk down there and that had frustrated Celeste, no doubt.

There was no mention of what had happened to her child or where she’d worked since the day she left New York and the movies behind. Just an address, written in cursive, on a piece of cheap notebook paper. Interesting.

Matteo got up to make himself a scotch he could drink and went back over the file one more time.

That had been four days ago. Now he was in a house hermetically sealed to protect those inside from the sultry heat of a Louisiana summer night, trying to figure out what to do next. He wanted to run away, forget he had this job, forget who his aunt was, who he was, but years of training wouldn’t let him quit or run away. He was meant to be a Mafia king, and that was all he knew how to be. So, that’s what he’d do.

1

Two Days Later

Matteo learned a lot in the two days since he’d arrived in Louisiana. The first thing he learned was a young woman was living with the target. Ruby Hebert, according to the report he’d found online, had lived at the same address with the same girl since she’d left New York.

He’d paid for the report from an online data-broker. It turned out the girl, now a woman, was Ruby’s daughter, Marie. There’d been a school picture for the young woman, and an old picture from the DMV for Ruby. The young girl was cute, in the way young girls were, but she was of no interest to Matteo. Too young and not part of the job. His target was Ruby.

Further digging showed that Ruby was now an invalid and taken care of by her daughter. Which meant he’d have to take an interest in the daughter. This bit of news changed things and he’d had to email Celeste about it.

She’d come up with a new plan, a plan that involved him wooing the daughter. Whether she was attached to someone or not. The way she saw it, some backwater bumpkin from the sticks would be happy to leave any kids and a husband behind for a man like Matteo. Then, he’d dump her, with her life in shambles and with her mother’s debt to pay, due on demand.

He’d almost run away at that point when he’d read the email. Most people would say fine, you can’t get blood out of a turnip, but not Celeste. She wanted Ruby to pay, and if that meant using the daughter to do it, then so be it. If it got him that one step closer to his goal, he’d do it.

He wouldn’t like himself, but Matteo knew he hadn’t liked himself very much since Celeste took over his upbringing. She’d turned a bright, intelligent, happy young boy into a somber, watchful robot that barely felt… anything. His father had disappeared a long time ago before he was even born, but his mother was still alive.

Matteo couldn’t even respond emotionally to her, which was why he hadn’t seen her in months now; maybe it had even been a year, he wasn’t sure and didn’t care. Emotions were not something he allowed himself to feel. Especially when Celeste was near him. He just shut down completely when he was near her.

Being this far away felt good, really good, but he knew she was there, in the back of his mind. She would be waiting, judging, ready to use anything, and anyone, for her brutal version of revenge. Not that she didn’t deserve some kind of revenge, her husband had been a cheater, and then he’d died because of his activities. With his lover, not his wife.

Nick, Celeste’s now dead husband, had branched out their organization, had started to creep into territory that wasn’t his, and it cost him his life. Of course, those activities had allowed Celeste the life she loved, but Matteo wouldn’t point that out. He inhaled slowly, deeply, and then walked away from the laptop.

The sound of a bell told him he had a new notification and he walked back over to the laptop. He didn’t want to look at the new email, but it might be important. A click of the mouse opened up a new screen and he saw a picture of a very timid looking young woman. It was her driver’s license photo and she stared straight into the camera, no smile, no emotion at all. Just a dead gaze that still managed to stir… something in him.

A frown marred his features as he increased the size of the photo. So, this was Marie now. Well, from her latest license, at least. He stared at the image for a moment before he closed the picture and read the text within the email. It seemed Marie’s mother no longer drove, but Marie did drive her mother’s car out every day, around one in the afternoon, to do the shopping and other errands.

He wrote back to the data broker to tell them it was good work and then glanced at the clock. It was about the time the young woman drove into town, so he picked up the keys to the old car that his aunt had provided.

The 1966 Lamborghini 400 GT was the very same one his uncle had died in. Celeste paid to have the damned thing restored for some reason, and now he was expected to drive it around town. Matteo assumed it was to creep Marie’s mother out, to frighten her, but the woman never left her bed, so the whole thing was pointless. It drove smoothly and had a few updates to make it suitable in the modern world, so he didn’t mind too much.

With a cold gaze hidden behind mirrored aviator sunglasses, he drove into the small town, careful to keep his speed down. He wasn’t in a rush because he was waiting to spot the girl. He figured she’d stop off at the grocery store first. With a twist of his wrist, the car turned smoothly into a gas station where he filled up the almost full tank. He glanced around and saw her, over in the parking lot across the street.