Page 53 of Mafia Prince


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“I’d be happy to go shopping, but I don’t really need anything.” It was a lie, and from the subtle lifting of the corner of Sasha’s mouth, she too knew that I needed everything.

“Marco gave you a credit card, right?”

My mouth dried at the question. It was odd, and it made me feel like a gold digger, which I most definitely was not. “He did,” I said, slowly, weighing my words. “For emergencies.”

Sasha clapped her hands together. “Great!” she exclaimed. “I wasn’t sure if he’d forgotten. I told him to leave a card with you, so you weren’t stuck in the house all day long. I remember Dom forgetting to give me one, and I nearly jumped off the balcony.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to all of that. Dom hadn’t struck me as great company, which was odd because Sasha seemed incredibly sweet.

“How did you two meet?” I asked, wanting to draw attention away from myself.

Sasha laughed at the question. “That’s a long story,” she said. There was a sardonic smile on her face as she shook her head. I knew some of the story from the papers, and I had put the rest of it together on my own.

“Now,” Sasha said. It was clear to me that she wanted to change the subject. I wouldn’t blame her. From what I read, Sasha’s own mother and brother were currently serving life sentences for trying to kill her. “Let’s go shopping.” Her lips pursed as she looked at me. “You need a new wardrobe.”

Sasha didn’t mean anything by what she said, but I couldn’t help but feel self conscious about the way I was dressed. The sweater that I put on was one I picked up from Goodwill a few years ago, and it was practically threadbare at this point.

“Don’t worry,” Sasha said, picking up on my discomfort. “Marco isn’t going to care.”

I pulled my sweater sleeves over my hands. “I have plenty of clothes,” I lied.

Sasha shrugged. “I do too. That’s not what shopping is about.”

I sighed. I didn’t think that I was getting out of this, but I didn’t want to do this alone. “Do you mind if I ask a friend of mine to join us?”

Sasha’s eyes lit up, like I’d just told her she was getting a puppy for Christmas. “Sounds perfect.”

If I was going to go wedding dress shopping, or do any shopping, then I was going to need Nikki by my side.

* * *

Looking at myself in the mirror, I released a loud snort of laughter, offending the saleswoman. “This is one of our most expensive dresses,” she told me.

I smashed my lips together as I tried not to die laughing. The dress was the ugliest thing I had ever seen in my entire life, which was made all the more ridiculous by the price tag. This dress was almost thirty thousand dollars. I’d only worn it so that Sasha and Nikki stopped bugging me about it.

“Are you coming out, or am I going to have to drag you out by the train of that dress,” Nikki called out.

I rolled my eyes as I tried to maneuver myself away from the mirror and towards the door.

“Here,” the saleslady grabbed the back of the dress. She couldn’t be more the five feet tall, but she managed to get me through that doorway with an ease that was unmatched.

When I stepped into the room, Nikki and Sasha’s mouths both dropped open in shock.

“Well…” Sasha said. “That is a very interesting dress.” I hadn’t known Sasha long, but this made it clear that she was much more diplomatic than her husband because this dress was hideous.

“That dress is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Nikki was far less diplomatic than Sasha, which I appreciated. I didn’t really care about this wedding dress considering that my marriage was a sham, but I certainly didn’t want to wear something so awful.

“It’s not that bad,” Sasha said. She got up from her seat and walked toward me. She lifted a piece of the tulle train and pinned it to my bosom. “It just needs a little…” she trailed off.

I shook my head. “It’s not the one.”

Sasha and Nikki looked at one another before they burst out laughing. “It really isn’t,” Sasha told me.

I chuckled and grabbed the skirts. “Luckily, there are about 10,000 more dresses in this store. I’m sure that I can find something.”

Nikki raised her champagne glass towards me in salute as I struggled towards the dressing room doors. The saleswoman followed behind me, no doubt ready and willing to help me with whatever I needed. The moment Sasha entered the store, the attendants had been on us like flies.

“Do you have a better idea of what type of dress you might like?” the woman asked politely. When Nikki, Sasha, and I entered the store, the two of them had immediately asked for the most expensive gown in the place, which is how I ended up in this monstrosity.

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