Page 4 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

2

Present Day

You’d think the vultures would wait at least a month before they started to circle, Marie thought a week after her mother’s funeral. She stared down at a pile of bills, a pile that she knew she could not pay. Final demands for payment, notices of new bills to be paid, and a warning from several that if Marie didn’t find a way to pay the bills, they’d take her to court and take the house from her.

They should have switched the house into Marie’s name a long time ago, she realized. But even that wouldn’t save her, she thought as she looked around the outdated kitchen. Sunflowers and ducks, that’s what her mother had decorated the place with. It had been Marie’s refuge for a long time, but now, she could see it with the eyes of a buyer. Outdated, and in desperate need of money that Marie didn’t have.

She’d have to sell the house she decided as she opened another bill, this one from a doctor she didn’t even remember seeing at the hospital. She frowned as she looked at the itemized bill. Smoking cessation therapy? Her mother didn’t smoke, why would they charge her for that?

Marie pushed her index finger into the spot between her eyes that ached so much her stomach started to turn. Some of these charges should be against the law, but she knew there was little she could do about them. Her fingers moved from her forehead down to the space between her mouth and her nose.

What the hell was she going to do?

The last couple of weeks had been hard. First, her mother had taken a turn for the worse, then she died. The funeral took place in the rain: a sad, lonely send off for a woman hated by most in the town. Matteo’s strange words followed, and then the awkward hell of trying to get used to being in the house on her own. She’d barely slept those first few nights, but now it wasn’t as bad.

Marie grieved for the first few days, but it was more grief for what should have been and now never would be. She’d grieved for a long time, she knew, even before her mother passed away. The woman had been hard, unlovable, and cruel. Still, she was Marie’s mother, but it was time to get on with life.

Now, she was faced with an ever-growing stack of bills and the reality that she’d have to leave her home. The only home she’d ever known, she thought as she got up from the table to go into the living room. She’d sell what she could, get rid of the house, and maybe she’d go somewhere new.

Everyone in this town treated Marie as if she was tainted because of her mother. She had no real friends here, nobody that would miss her. She sat on the couch and let her gaze drift into space. She could go to New Orleans, get a job as a PCA there, and live a carefree life in a town that rarely slept. Or she could go to New York if Matteo ever went back there.

If he wanted her to go back there with him, that is. He might want to end it with her, even if she’d started to wonder if he loved her. There’d been a few hints that he might, and she knew she cared about him deeply. Maybe there was something there, but then again, maybe she only wanted to see what she wanted to see.

He’d been so distant at her mother’s funeral, and he hadn’t contacted her since then. She knew he’d had to go to New York, but he hadn’t even texted her to check on her. He might have been done with her and ready to move on now that he’d had her. That made her blood turn cold, despite the heat of the day. He wouldn’t be that cruel, would he?

She knew he could be hard, just as hard as her mother, but did he have that same cruel streak that she had? Marie didn’t think so. She wanted to trust him despite those strange words he’d said to her. What did he have to tell her about her mother?

Anxiety began to eat at her, and her stomach-ache became a tightness that nearly took her breath away. She calmed herself by listing the places she could go to now that she was free. Because, over the passing days, without the daily routine of caring for her mother, without every thought being tied to her mother in some way, Marie came to see that she was free. It had taken a very long time, but at last, she was free of her mother’s hatred, her bile, and her stranglehold.

The foot that held her down by the neck to the floor was gone, and she could get up, dust herself off, and see the world if she wanted to. Well, if she could afford to, that is. She felt her lips twitch into a smile as she thought about the places she could go. Las Vegas, Los Angeles, to the palm trees and beautiful beaches of Hawaii maybe? Or Alaska, up to the cold mountains, glaciers, and icy streams that would freeze away her cares.

The world was her home now, and she just had to decide where to head first. Once she sold all the stuff in the house, and the house, and maybe even the car. No, she’d need the car, she’d have to hang onto that somehow.

Her phone buzzed against the back of her thigh and she dug it out to look at the screen. Her heart thudded back into overdrive the minute she saw his name. At last, he’d sent her a text.

“I’ll see you tonight, at 8 pm, for dinner. See you soon.” Matteo had typed to her.

She felt fear seize at the galloping muscles of her heart as she read it over and over. She couldn’t exactly explain why she felt so afraid of the few words he’d sent, but something about the whole situation had set off alarm bells and they wouldn’t stop.

With a tired sigh, she got up from the couch and headed for the bathroom. She needed to get ready, and that meant taking care of things she’d neglected for over a week. A nice hot bath to start her off would be great, she decided and opened the taps to let the water fill the tub.

She wondered what the house would be worth, a distraction for herself, as she stared at the tub. Someone would either have to love the tacky style that ruled in the 1990s to buy the house or have a lot of money to update the entire place. It could be done; the foundations were solid, the walls and roof good, it was just the décor and the floor coverings that would need to be replaced.

She decided she’d find a realtor as she sank into the heated water and felt her muscles respond immediately. They’d know what they were doing and would go after the best price they could get. They worked on commission, she thought but wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter, as long as it was enough to pay off the bills and leave her with something to live on for a month or two, she’d be fine.

It wasn’t like her mother had cared enough to try and leave her an inheritance. Her father hadn’t known about her long enough to leave her one either. She’d sometimes wondered as a little girl if there was an inheritance for her, sitting forgotten in some lawyer’s drawer up in New York, but she had no idea how to find out if there was. Her father had been rich, her mother told her, a tough guy that ruled some kind of gang or something.

Her mother had always warned her to stay away from Mafia guys like there was just a constant parade of men in the Mafia in their town. It was silly, but she’d always warned Marie with hatred in her eye. Stay away…

Well, her mother had taught her a lesson at least. Trust nobody; not your mother, not those in the Mafia, and not the townspeople that had turned their backs on Marie because of her mother. That was something else her mother taught her - don’t make a mistake because you will be judged.

Marie sank beneath the water to drive the thoughts out of her mind before she tangled herself into a wreck of angsty hatred of everyone. That wasn’t who she was. A quick swipe of her face with a towel and Marie finished the rest of her bath. She didn’t want to spend ages soaking when she could be doing something else.

She kept seeing the message he’d sent to her as she dried her hair and dressed. It finally occurred to her what was so wrong about it. He’d given her an order, not a request as he normally did. There’d been no question about whether she was busy, whether she was alright, how she was faring, none of that. It was just a “be here and don’t give me any other answer” kind of text.

Her brows knitted together as she put on a pair of jeans, followed by a white pullover shirt, and then her shoes. Okay, so he could be a little bossy sometimes. Was she about to start taking orders from him?

If she refused would he drop her? That made an ache start in the center of her chest and she decided she’d brush it off for now. She knew he had a lot on at the moment too, he was a busy guy. He’d probably just written it in haste and hadn’t thought about the way it would come across.