Page 40 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

“No, he’s not, Celeste. Can I help you?” Marie leaned into the doorjamb, just to make sure the other woman was positively certain Marie wasn’t going to invite her in. Marie didn’t trust her any further than she could throw her.

She looked Celeste over, dressed in some kind of black 1920s suit, right down to the wide-brimmed black hat tilted to the left. Like some kind of gangster’s moll from back in the day, Marie thought. It was attractive, but the pencil skirt that flared out at the knees wasn’t for her.

Celeste took a deep breath, tilted her head to the right, which made the hat move in a way that amused Marie so much her lips twitched. “Look, I don’t like you. I don’t like the fact that my nephew married you. But you are his wife, so I have to tolerate you. Can we call some kind of truce?”

“I suppose we must.” Marie moved out of the doorway and stood to the side. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you.” Celeste waltzed in on black heels no woman in the 1920s would have been able to afford. Marie couldn’t tell which designer they were but knew they were if they were on those feet.

“Can I get you a drink?” Marie walked back to the kitchen and tightened the belt of the light-green full-length silk robe she wore. Beneath it, she wore a matching nightgown with thin straps and a short hem.

“Scotch if he has it.” Celeste followed her to the kitchen and sat at a stool at the island.

Marie moved to one side, poured a small glass of scotch, and a small one of gin with tonic for herself. She turned to the island and stood in front of it as if the barrier would protect her from Matteo’s aunt.

“Did you even go to a university, Marie? Do you have any kind of education?” Celeste looked her up and down and continued. “I can see why he’s taken with you, you are beautiful in that dark, gypsy kind of way I suppose.”

Celeste sniffed as if the air was bad and her upper lip curled with distaste. “You must be fun in bed, otherwise he wouldn’t be so in love with you. But your mother was, so I suppose you will have inherited her talents. Or your father’s, he was a good lover too.”

Marie stared at the woman, her eyes wide with shock. Who was this bitch to insult her like this in her own house? “Excuse me?”

“What else would explain Matteo’s adoration of you? Your intelligence? Your sweet nature? No, men fall in love with one thing and once it ages a little, well, you’re a prime example of what happens when you get older.”

Marie could have sworn the world blacked out for a minute as her blood pressure pounded in her ears. She gripped at the island, her knuckles white as she tried to contain herself.

“From what I understand, your mother said much the same thing to anyone that would listen, though, didn’t she? That men only wanted one thing and when they were done with you, they’d just throw you away? Yes, the report I got before I sent Matteo down told me quite a lot about you both. It just didn’t explain how well you’d seduce my nephew into your bed.”

“I think you’ll find it was the other way around.” Marie sipped at her drink as cold rage washed over her, calmed her nerves, and left her with the ability to think clearly once again. “With your husband and Matteo.”

“My husband was a cretin that let his dick lead him around. I raised Matteo to think with his brain, not his dick. It seems one whiff of you changed that.” Celeste raised her glass and sipped at it, her eyes still narrowed with distaste.

Marie scoffed, amused at the woman’s gall. Marie might not be a Mafia queen, but she was a grown woman, and she saw this display for what it was - an attempt to dominate her and make her afraid. To show any kind of fear would be a mistake with this woman, though. Her head rose a little higher still and she was all but looking down her nose at Celeste now. “Jealous?”

“What?” Celeste looked at Marie with eyebrows raised in astonishment. “I beg your pardon?”

“The way you’re carrying on, Celeste, one would wonder, you know? Why is she concerned with who her nephew sleeps with? What’s driving that?” Marie leaned over the island as she spoke, her cold anger apparent in the tight smile on her face. “Wouldn’t you think so, Celeste?”

“I’m not, that’s ludicrous!” Celeste exclaimed and pulled away from Marie. “I’ve never heard such drivel.”

“Then I suggest you stop worrying about who Matteo sleeps with. He sleeps with me, and I’m his wife, that should be all you need to know.” Marie took another drink of her gin and tonic and then looked at Celeste again. “You aren’t going to play nice at all, are you?”

“No, I don’t think I will, Marie. I don’t want you to be his wife. You aren’t quite what I had in mind for him. I’ll get rid of you, or he will when he gets tired of you. He thinks he loves you right now, but that will fade with time. Thank you for the drink.” She set her empty glass down and looked directly into Marie’s eyes. “Tell my nephew I’m leaving tonight. He has six months to prove himself. Then I’m done.”

Marie watched her with cautious eyes, waiting for a glass of acid or a gun to be pulled on her. Neither happened and she relaxed as the woman walked out of the kitchen. “Have a nice trip, Auntie.”

She said it to be a bitch and when Celeste’s foot faltered, she knew she’d hit her mark. Celeste was not as impervious as she made out then. Good.

“Goodbye, Marie. I hope we don’t meet again.” Celeste turned back with a cheerful grin on her face, her hands on the door as she walked out of the penthouse, but Marie knew it was a lie. It hid the scowl that hid behind the façade Celeste now tried to keep a hold on.

“I hope for the same, safe travels, Auntie.” Marie’s smile was more pointed than Celeste’s.

Inside, Marie was a roiling wreck of “holy fucks” and “don’t say that”, but she didn’t back down and gave as good as she got.

“Tata.” The older woman gave a weak wave of her fingers as she walked out of the door and closed it.

Marie sank back against the door, her fingers fumbled to lock it before she slid down to the floor, totally spent, shocked, and… happy.

There were other emotions in the jumbled up mixture that went through her mind. Fear, anger, desperation, but there was also happiness. Celeste believed Matteo was in love with Marie. That was a good thing, even if Celeste didn’t like it.