Page 28 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

“You aren’t too old, you know?” He brushed hair back from her still red face and smiled. “You can do it if you want to.”

“I might.” Her eyes moved to the Christmas tree, and the pile of presents beneath it. “Do you want to open the presents tonight, or in the morning?”

She’d bought a few things for him, things she hoped he’d like. She was more excited about watching him open his presents than she was about her own. He’d given her so much already, and she had a feeling that the gift-giving wasn’t over.

“Now, I think. I’m curious to see what you’ve got for me.” He sat up and leaned back against the couch as she crawled, naked, to the tree, and pulled presents over to where they sat.

“I hope you like them.” He opened the first one carefully, slowly, as if he’d never been given a gift before and wanted to relish it.

The paper opened to reveal a collection of vinyl records. The Beatles, originals, all of them. “Where on earth did you find these?”

He looked at her amazed.

“In a shop not far from here. They have quite a large collection of them.” She glanced at the bigger box and knew that the contents must be apparent now.

He pulled the paper away, eager to find out what was inside. His eyes gleamed when he saw the chrome and red-painted record player inside. Immediately, he got up, plugged the player in, and put on the first record. The sounds of so long ago came to life the instant the needle met the vinyl and they both smiled.

“This might be the best present ever. I have the digital versions of all of these songs, but it never occurred to me to find the records. Thank you, Marie.” He leaned over to kiss her and pull her close.

“That’s not all of them, but we can wait until tomorrow, if you’d like, to open the rest.”

“Aren’t you curious about what I got for you?” he asked and put a kiss on her head.

“I am, but it can wait. I’d like to listen to this a little more.” She repositioned her head on his chest and began to hum along with the music.

She’d never have guessed, not in a million years, that she’d be in a New York penthouse on Christmas day, married to a man that gave her everything she could ever want. She’d spent her days in misery, trying to get through each day as best she could. People rarely spoke to her, and life was one routine after the next. Fix breakfast, clean her mother, clean the house, make lunch, go out to get the shopping, come home and make dinner, go to bed, rinse, repeat, and carry on.

Now, her mother was gone, and though it wasn’t a good thing, Marie couldn’t be sad about it anymore. The more Matteo had shown her about the world outside of her Louisiana home, the more she realized how much her mother had denied her. She knew her mother had her reasons, that life hadn’t exactly been fair to Ruby, but she had added cruelty to her very long list of sins. She’d denied Marie the most basic comforts in life, even before she’d become ill.

Although even after her mother had become ill, she’d been cruel to her only daughter. There was no need for it, but her mother had continued her cruelty. She didn’t want to dwell on it, but at that moment couldn’t help it. She’d been deceived by Matteo, that was true, but he’d given her far more than she deserved, at least, that’s what her mother would tell her.

“I wonder, sometimes,” she said almost absently, “if my mother would have been so cruel if my father had lived.”

She didn’t really expect an answer, she wasn’t even really aware that she’d actually said anything until Matteo spoke.

“I think, my lovely little wife, that your mother would have been a totally different person if your father had lived. Maybe.”

“I’m not so sure,” she answered absently. “I think Ruby would have been cruel, no matter what. That’s just who she was.”

“That time of your life is over now, Marie. If you want to talk about it, I’m happy to talk about it with you. But I want you to know, it’s over. You will never, ever have to live like that ever again.”

She curled around him, her lips on his neck, ready to wipe her memories away with new ones. He was the perfect person for the job, she thought with a contented happy smile.

16

Matteo sat in his office, hidden away in one of the family’s warehouses, and leaned his feet against the antique mahogany desk as he leaned back against the equally elderly desk chair in the office. The furniture had belonged to Nick’s grandfather, the first member of the Alfonsi family to arrive in America from Italy.

The enterprising Alfonsi grandfather watched the mob back then, the Irish gangs and the Italian, that fought for supremacy in the streets of a city that continued to grow. People always wanted to escape something, back then the world wars, poverty, Prohibition, and then the Great Depression made it possible for Nick’s grandfather and father to provide the citizens of New York with what they wanted most - a way to escape reality. Back then it was alcohol and cocaine that the family brought in. Then opium, hash, and even heroin, on top of bootleg gin and smuggled whiskey. The Alfonsis provided it all to those that had the money to pay for it.

The family became rich and by the time Nick came along, the desk and chair had seen thousands of days of use. Despite the wear on each one, Matteo decided to keep the desk when Celeste turned some of the reigns over to him. The furniture was a testament to those men, and to the mistakes made along the way. Nick was the degenerate son that nearly lost it all, and did for himself. Celeste had saved the business, for herself and her family.

Now, the Mazzas reigned in these parts, but these days it was gambling and guns that kept the family in money.

“Boss, you in here?” A man’s voice came through the door and soon a big man with black hair and light-green eyes followed.

“I’m here, Anton.” Matteo sat up and pulled down the hem of his suit jacket. “Have you taken care of that little problem of ours?”

“Andy is now in Canada, shoveling pig shit at an Amish farm,” Anton said, his deep voice almost loud in the empty warehouse.