Page 3 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

He didn’t know for sure, but he was almost certain she was staring right at him. He felt his lips twitch in satisfaction, his target had been located. He put a debit card into the machine, paid for his fuel, and then slowly drove across the road and into the parking lot of the grocery store.

Matteo noted she was distracted as she put the groceries away. She turned to return the empty cart to the stand, then stopped, obviously lost in thought. He drove on but slammed on the brakes suddenly so that it made a noise. He felt a prickle of guilt, not enough to make him feel sorry, but he felt it.

She responded with a turn, fear clear on her face as she stumbled a little. Her hands were on the hood as he stepped out of the car, all that was good and humble as he apologized to her.

He wasn’t aware of what he said, or what she said. All he could do was note how white and perfect her teeth were, how beautiful and haunting her eyes were, and just how long those tanned legs of hers were in those tiny denim shorts she had on. The t-shirt tented over full breasts that drew his gaze for only a heartbeat, it was those eyes that fascinated him.

His thoughts flew right out of his head for a moment as he looked at her and took in just how odd he felt when he saw her up close. The pictures had done her no justice at all because she had a lovely, heart-shaped face, clear tanned skin, and the cutest button of a nose.

Matteo wasn’t completely dead inside, he still liked to have a woman when the mood struck. Usually, they were women that knew the score and were in it for what they could get out of him. This woman was all innocence and charm. There was no kind of guile in her eyes, no knowing twist to her full, luscious lips. And all of that black hair of hers made his hands itch in ways to touch her that he’d never felt before.

He came back to reality briefly, gave her his card, and apologized once more. The target had been acquired and the first contact had been made. That was all he needed to do for now. He left her to carry on with her errands and went into the store to buy a few things, so nobody would notice that he’d gone into the parking lot but not gone into the store.

His aunt wanted him to be noticed so he went over to the library briefly, picked out a book, and got himself a library card. He left there and drove on, thoughts of the girl, the woman rather, still on his mind. He turned on a playlist he kept hidden in his phone and hit play. The sound of The Beatles filled the car as he drove back to the mansion hidden down a bayou path.

It wasn’t until he was in the driveway, the voice of John Lennon in his head, that he realized he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Desire tinged with something he thought might be hope. That made him blink a few times before he turned the car off and stepped out.

Now, why would a girl from the back of beyond in Louisiana make him feel anything? Was that what had happened to his late Uncle Nick? He’d met a woman that he couldn’t take his eyes off of, or had she just been another conquest? Matteo was familiar with conquests, women he’d bedded for prestige, women he’d bedded that had refused him, but he’d charmed them over time. They’d given in to him, just for him to dump them after their conquest.

Would this woman be the same? Would he be able to seduce her, as his aunt wanted him to do, and then leave her with a broken heart and a debt she couldn’t possibly repay? He’d had another notification about their finances: they were one unexpected bill away from the poorhouse, so he knew the women wouldn’t be able to repay his aunt. Would the girl’s broken heart be enough for her?

Somehow, Matteo doubted it. The whole situation was far thornier than he’d expected it would be. But then, he’d expected a woman like any other, easily conquered and discarded. Something about this young woman told him that wasn’t going to be the case.

He thought he’d be able to keep his heart out of it, he had little doubt about that, but would he be able to forget her? That was a question he didn’t want to examine too closely, so he went out to the pool instead. A few laps would keep him focused, and when he went to rest an hour later, his mind was clear.

He had a mission; he would do his duty.

He owed his allegiance to Celeste and the family. Make that family with a capital F. That’s who would protect him, serve him, make him their king. This girl meant nothing to him, and he’d do what was expected of him.

She stayed on his mind throughout the night, however, and when he went to bed, it was her he dreamed of. Long, slow kisses made him hum with pleasure, even in his sleep, as he stroked the full breasts, he’d barely noted earlier that day. She wrapped herself around him, eager to know his touch.

At that moment, in that place, Matteo finally felt free of the mental restraints that had shackled his thoughts for so long and he surged against Marie’s body with his own. He was just as eager as she was, he craved the devotion those dark brown eyes of hers promised him, craved the solace of her embrace. Even more than that, he accepted it all from her, he expected it, demanded it as the moments passed and he felt her soft body melt into his.

Every inch of her was cradled against him and he slipped the shoulder of the white gown off of her shoulders, to kiss the smooth skin there. He inhaled deeply, about to lose control, but he restrained himself, just for now, just until she begged him for more, for all of him.

The gown slipped lower, to the very tops of her breasts, and Matteo shuddered as he let his lips skim the plump flesh. She felt so good, so right. Nothing, no one, had ever felt so right in his entire life, and he felt the pulse of that sensation deep inside his abdomen as a twist of pleasure. It was a pleasure that radiated out, to the very part of him that he wanted to bury inside of her.

“Marie, you’re mine. You’ll always be mine,” he murmured against the tops of her breasts as he felt her shuddering response against his own body. It only made him hungrier for her.

His hands moved from her waist to her back, to lift her against the wall so that he could cradle himself between her heated thighs. It was so warm there, so promisingly wet, that he could feel her against his suddenly naked body. He didn’t know how his clothes disappeared or why, and didn’t care, he just wanted to move, to pull back far enough to bury himself inside what he instinctively knew was her virgin sheath.

He’d pulled back, teeth set, ready to hold back as she took him inside of her body for the very first time. A piercing sound infiltrated the moment, destroyed it, as reality invaded. He was dreaming, that noise was his phone. Fuck.

He rolled over to answer the ring and saw it was Celeste. He couldn’t quite shut down as he normally did when he had to speak to her, but he faked it well.

“Yes, Aunty?” he asked in a bland voice, no sign of his anger at her or tiredness to be found in his voice at all.

“Did you meet the girl yet, Matteo?” Celeste came straight to the point, without even the courtesy of saying hello.

“I have, Aunty. She’s going to be… pliable, I believe,” he reported, despite the inner voice in his head telling him to hang up and get back to fucking the sweet temptation that had filled his dream. Would he be able to recapture that moment now?

“Good. You need to do this carefully, Matteo. By that I mean, don’t invite her to dinner tomorrow and fuck her tomorrow night.” Celeste had always been able to cut to the heart of the matter, and when the moment called for crudity, she could use it. Even if it was her nephew she spoke to. “I want her well and truly in love with you by the time you have your way with her. Then, you’re going to crush her, do you understand me, Matteo? No gentle letting down, no sweet parting, I want her crushed.”

“Yes, Aunty,” he said without a hint of emotion.

“Good. And Matteo? Don’t fall in love with the little guttersnipe, do you hear me? It wouldn’t do at all.” Celeste was just as cruel to him as she was to anyone else. He heard the sound of her nails tapping against the wood of her desk and cringed. He hated her, but she was the head of the family.

He would do as instructed.