Page 22 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

“Oh yes, well, desecration and profaning the church will get that, don’t you know?” Her cheeks went pink so he didn’t press her for more information. He could just imagine what the woman had done. He’d learned enough about her now to know, he thought. Something rude, selfish, and with no other goal than attention in mind, no matter how that attention might impact her daughter. Poor Marie.

“Well, it sounds like you need more time in front of that tree of yours, then, Mrs. Mazza.” He grinned as he leaned in to whisper into her ear. “Want to head home?”

“I’d like that.” She turned just enough to smile into his eyes. “I’d like that a lot, Mr. Mazza.”

He called to have the car brought around and in no time at all, they were changed into pajamas and staring up at the lit tree in the dark living room. It was over 10 feet tall and covered in every kind of decoration she could find. There was even thin silvery tinsel hanging off the thing. It was like a kid’s dream, and Matteo knew that’s exactly what it was, the tree she’d dreamed about since she was a kid denied such frivolous things.

He held her as they drank Irish coffee and watched the lights change on the tree. She even had some old-fashioned ones that looked like candles with bubbles in the long glass light section.

“Thank you,” she said with a pleased sigh. “Thank you for giving me this, Matteo.”

“It’s my pleasure, Marie.” A bit too formal, maybe, but he was new to all of this being a good husband stuff. He didn’t want to be an asshole, after all, just in charge.

“I love that thing more than I thought I would. It’s amazing really.” She leaned back into his chest and sighed. That was all the thanks he needed - her content sigh. Maybe a brighter future was in store for him, after all. Once he got Celeste out of the way, that is.

13

“I want to learn to play the piano,” she said to Matteo the next afternoon. He’d put on some music as they relaxed together after lunch. It was classical music, Chopin he’d told her.

She rested between his thighs, her head on his stomach as she stared at the Christmas tree. The thought had only just occurred to her, she’d always wanted to be able to play an instrument, but there’d never been money for lessons. Her mother wouldn’t have allowed her to have lessons, anyway, even if those lessons were free. Marie might enjoy them, and Ruby wouldn’t have allowed her unwanted daughter even that small amount of satisfaction.

“You can do whatever you want, Marie. You can take piano lessons, go back to school, become an astronaut, whatever you desire, darling.” His voice was low as if he was almost asleep.

She liked these moments, cuddled together, just enjoying being close to one another. Affection had been one of the many things Marie had been starved of her entire life, so these moments were precious to her. “I doubt I could be an astronaut at my age. Maybe piano lessons are something too far out of reach too, but still, I’d like to try.”

“Then I’ll have it arranged.” He ran his fingers into her hair to massage her scalp. “After we get Christmas and the New Year out of the way, I’ll have someone come in to teach you.”

That meant he’d have to buy a piano. The thought made her smile. Things like that always did make her smile, though. He didn’t think anything about it, but to her, it was like her birthday and Christmas rolled into one every time he bought her something she’d done without her entire life, but had always wanted.

It was like the laptop he’d bought for her. He’d noticed she didn’t have one, so he bought her one. She needed it, he’d told her, but she wasn’t sure why she needed one exactly. She’d taken the present and explored the Internet and what was out there in the world through it.

She’d started a private blog once she found out those kinds of things existed and had been writing in it, like a diary. She was good at typing, which had made her think about the piano lessons again. Would it be the same? Playing the piano, would that take the same finesse? As the music played she thought about it more and almost laughed because she’d soon find out.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, nonchalantly.

Matteo wasn’t a very talkative man sometimes, but since they’d come to New York he’d opened up to her more. She knew there were still secrets buried inside of him, but he’d allowed her into his world. Mostly because he needed to know how she was. He wasn’t concerned about his own emotions, or what he needed, but with her and her needs.

“I’m fine. A little nervous. We’re going to your aunt’s for Christmas dinner tomorrow. I’m not sure what to wear, or how to act, I’m really worried I’ll embarrass you.”

“Ah, my aunt. She’s flying back in from Italy tonight. She’s been told about us now. She’s… calm.” Matteo chose his words carefully, but she felt the way his fingers tensed on her scalp before they relaxed again. He wasn’t totally pleased about his aunt coming home or being told about them then.

He never talked much about her, but from the things he said, Marie knew he didn’t like the woman very much. That didn’t make her own situation any easier to deal with. She was the product of her husband’s affair. Trying to keep it straight in her own mind could get confusing at times.

How would Celeste treat her, she wondered. Her birth wasn’t something that Marie could help, but she knew that she wouldn’t be a happy reminder to Celeste, a memento of her husband’s infidelity. Marie wouldn’t be surprised to be greeted with hatred, especially since Marie had taken it all a step further and married Celeste’s nephew. The woman had to be intelligent, which meant she would know that their marriage was a ploy to negate the debt owed by Ruby.

“Do you think she’ll hate me?” Marie asked quietly, almost afraid to actually voice it. The question was a stupid one, of course Celeste would hate her.

“I don’t know. Celeste is… her own woman. She doesn’t reveal much to anyone.” Matteo’s fingers moved down to the back of Marie’s head to knead at the spot where her spine met her skull.

“She took over the family business after my father died,” Marie pointed out, but let him interrupt.

“She did. There wasn’t anyone else to take his place. Well, there would soon be you…” his words slowed, then stopped.

It had occurred to him finally, then. She didn’t smile or tense up. She forced herself to stay relaxed and to enjoy the moment with her husband.

“I’m not ready for leading anything like that. You’re the one that’s been trained to take over for the woman that is, well, my stepmother. Odd to think that, isn’t it?” The term was something she’d considered over the last few weeks, even if it didn’t seem right.

“I don’t know what she’d be called, technically. I suppose stepmother would be right.” She could feel his tension in the strong way his fingers dug into her muscles, but she didn’t complain. “She’s now your aunt by marriage, as well.”