Page 24 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

“Yes, more,” he laughed, pleased that he could do all of this for her obviously.

“Shouldn’t we save them for tomorrow evening?” She tried to stall him, a little overwhelmed. She had so many toys and gadgets now she barely knew what to do first most of the time.

“Maybe so. But there’s one I want you to open up today. I want to see what you think about it.” His voice sounded odd and she looked at his back as they walked back into the living room. What was this present then?

He gave her a small box, about six inches by six inches wrapped in white paper with a red ribbon. There were more presents under the tree, some for him that she’d bought, and she’d thought the rest were for his family. That didn’t seem to be the case.

With a befuddled smile she tugged at the ribbon and pulled the paper off. Inside the box, around three inches deep, sat a small pistol, small enough that it would fit in her hand. The silvery metal gleamed and she looked down at the thing with curiosity. Guns didn’t frighten her, but she had no idea how to use one.

“What do I do with this?” She looked at him as the reality of the life they would live together hit home, hard. He thought she needed a weapon to defend herself, but from whom? His aunt? People outside of the family? Who exactly was a threat to her?

“Keep it with you, in your bag, or in a holster if you want. But always keep it with you. Remember what happened to your father? That could still happen. My world isn’t exactly the most angelic, Marie, I think you know that by now.” His accent thickened as he spoke, the clipped tone that only sounded good on him. When other people up here spoke, the accent was an oddity that still made her brain stutter until she caught up. She was used to hearing Matteo speak now but being in a crowd of people that spoke like him was sometimes overwhelming.

“We’ll get through this, Marie, don’t worry. Life with me isn’t going to be simple, it may even get dangerous sometimes, but I will always, always, do my best to protect you, I swear it.”

She looked down at the gun, then back up at him. “You’d better show me how to use it then.”

“What? Don’t all you southern girls climb out of the cradle knowing how to handle a gun?” He looked surprised.

“My mom didn’t have time to show me a lot of things, and well, you know what happened to my dad.” She frowned but then smiled a saucy smile. “It’s something else you get to teach me.”

Her wink made him laugh happily. That made her smile right back at him. This wouldn’t be so bad. She hoped.

14

This was going to be terrible she just knew it. She pulled at the lace at her collarbones to try to loosen it up. The problem wasn’t the red lace, though, it was a knot in her chest somewhere, a knot of fear that she was determined nobody would see.

“Take it easy, baby.” Matteo’s hand guided her up the steps to the brownstone house, and he rang the doorbell. “It’s almost over.”

“It’s only beginning,” she reminded him with a mutter.

“True, but that first moment will be over with, and you’ll be able to feel your way through this from there. Now smile and fake it with me.” He leaned over to peck her on the nose just as the door opened.

“Matteo!” A young woman, roughly around Marie’s age, answered the door with a happy shriek. Marie winced a little as the woman flung her arms around Matteo’s neck before she pulled away just as quickly. “And you must be Marie. Welcome to the family, I’m Trina.”

“Hi,” Marie spoke softly and nearly stepped back in surprise, but she stood her ground and lifted her head up. “Thanks for the welcome.”

“Come in, let’s meet the family, shall we?” Trina pulled them into a foyer and Marie looked around. The room was open, and she could see now that the building had once been three buildings but was now one. Two stairways led up to another floor, and that’s where the slim young woman took them. “The first floor is mainly a study, the kitchen, a bathroom, up here is where you’ll find everyone. The dining room is off to the left there, and over here is a ballroom as Aunt Celeste likes to call it.”

Trina, a pretty woman with dark gray eyes, black hair, and olive skin, pushed open a door to show a crowd of people standing around talking. Along each wall were tables and chairs, and at the front of the room by the door was a bar with some snacks on trays.

Marie took a calming breath and walked into the crowded room, filled with over 30 people, and looked around. Everyone was dressed exquisitely, with jewelry dripping from every finger and earlobe, even the men. Some were old, some younger, none that were under the age of 15 as far as Marie could tell.

“This is my mother, Audrina,” Trina said as she came up next to an older woman with silky black hair down to her waist, dressed in a long, dark-green velvet dress. It complimented the bright-red velvet dress that Trina had on. “And this is my dad, Solomon O’Toole.”

The man was older, dashing in that gray hair at the temples kind of way, with the gray eyes that matched his daughter’s. The couple smiled at Marie and greeted her and Matteo. Marie surmised that Trina’s mother must be the blood relative, a man with an Irish last name surely wasn’t a brother of Celeste’s.

“Welcome to the family,” Solomon said somberly, and his wife frowned.

“He makes it sound terrible, we aren’t that bad, really.” She smiled and leaned over to peck Marie’s cheek. Marie wasn’t short, but she wasn’t too tall either. She matched these two women in height, at least, especially since they all wore similar heels. “Celeste hasn’t come down yet.”

That part she said softly to Matteo, but Marie heard her.

“And my mother?” Matteo asked, his voice as quiet as Audrina’s.

“She’s not well, Matteo.” Audrina looked away, and Marie knew she was lying, but why would she lie? Why lie about his mother’s absence? “She’s sorry she couldn’t make it.”

“No matter.” Matteo looked down at Marie and winked. “Another time.”