Page 7 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

“I have to believe you?” She pulled her top lip in between her teeth, her mind blank, except for one thing. “Is there more?”

He looked at her as if to plead for mercy from her. From her? When he’d just told her this whole thing had been a lie, little more than a ruse to get half a million dollars out of her mother, half a million that she didn’t have. Marie didn’t have it either. Did this mean his aunt would have her killed?

Fear replaced the coldness and she blinked up at him, terror now the only thing she felt. Her heart thudded in her chest until he spoke again.

“I have a plan. It might not make sense, but in my world it does. It will buy you time, at the very least.” He took a deep breath and stared straight into her eyes. “I know you’re brave, Marie. You’re smart and wonderful, but before you get incredibly pissed off and hurt and all of that flies out the window, I want you to remember one thing. I want to marry you. The debt will be voided if you marry me.” He added an “I hope”, under his breath, but she caught it.

“You’ve lied to me,” she started. “You came here to make a fool of me, of my mother, you used me.”

Marie refused to let him see the tears that stung her eyes as hurt and humiliation flooded throughout her body, flushed her skin to an angry red that only made her more self-conscious. “And now, you want me to marry you, Matteo? Are you insane?”

“Marie, no, please. Hear me out, darling. I can fix this if you’ll just let me. Please. I didn’t know you then, I didn’t know how much I’d… want you.” He’d stumbled over his words but caught himself. She didn’t care.

“No. I’m finished with this. My mother warned me that men would only break my heart, and well, she learned from your uncle. So I guess it’s only fitting that I learned it from you, right?” She pulled her hands roughly out of his as she pulled away and turned to stalk out of the room.

“Marie, please don’t go. I know I can make this right. Just give me a chance.” His voice was a plea, but she could hear the doubt in it. That doubt wasn’t what made her walk away, though. It was the fact that he’d come here with a plan, and he’d set out on that plan. None of this had been real. None of it.

4

Marie drove home blindly. She stopped at one point, the tears that scalded her eyes and her cheeks made the world a blurry place and it became too dangerous to drive. There was a wide spot, a place where the parish would sometimes leave sand piles for sandbags during storms, just big enough for her to pull off and let the sobs wrack her body.

He’d lied. He’d deceived her. He’d played her for a fool. How could he?

Her mother’s voice, unheard for over a week now, played through her mind.

Men only take what they want from you, don’t play a fool, Marie. Just stay away from them.

She’d been right. Even if Marie hadn’t wanted to admit it, she had to now. Matteo had used her, which was crystal clear. With an unchecked sob, she leaned over to the passenger seat so that passersby wouldn’t see her in there, crying her eyes out like some sad loser.

Eventually, with the music off, and the quiet of the insulated car to protect her from any sounds outside, she calmed down enough to dry her face. She dug around in her bag until she found a package of tissues she’d shoved in there before her mother’s funeral, and blew her nose. Why did crying always make everything so much worse, she wondered.

You cried because you were hurt, physically or emotionally; the last thing she needed was a headache, clogged sinuses, and the facial pain that came with it. She dried her cheeks and eyes, sat up, and looked around. She hadn’t heard any other cars and saw none. He hadn’t followed her home, at least.

With her teeth starting to ache, Marie put the car in drive and pulled back onto the road. The lights cut through the darkness and her thoughts changed as she drew closer to her house.

Anger began to creep in. He’d known all along who she was, and he’d played the lovestruck rich guy perfectly. Her mother might have been envious of his performance it had been so good. He’d played the besotted lover while he betrayed her in the worst way she could think of.

She pulled into her driveway, turned the car off, grabbed her bag, and stomped into the house, her head down to make sure she didn’t trip over anything in the darkness. He wanted to marry her, to clear this debt her mother owed to Matteo’s aunt? How crazy it all sounded, but he didn’t seem to notice that.

With a cry of surprise, she stumbled when her foot skidded. She fell to the floor with a loud bang, her right knee slamming into the ground hard. Her bag flew out of her hands and the contents scattered. Defeat overwhelmed her and she began to cry again, sprawled on the floor with no hope left in her heart.

Her mother had died, she had to sell the house she grew up in because she was broke, and now the man that she was certain she’d fallen in love with was some kind of imposter. Or something like that.

She rolled over to her back, thought about getting up for some ice to put on her knee, and dismissed the idea. She just… didn’t care.

In her former life, before Matteo, she took as good care of herself as she could. She was the only one that would always be there for her mother. She had to be healthy. Now, it didn’t really matter. To anyone.

Even Matteo wanted to use her for his own ends. She wasn’t sure why he wanted to marry her, it was all ridiculous to her, but he wanted it. He seemed to think marriage would save her from this vindictive woman that still wanted revenge, even after all these years.

Marie started to wonder if she’d been cursed at birth. Her mother had an affair with a married man, unbeknownst to her, but still, Marie’s father had been married. Of course, if what her mother had said during her frequent drunken ramblings was true, she’d only ensured she became pregnant to trap Nick anyway.

She’d had to live with her mother’s hatred since her birth, with the vile venom that would not leave her mother’s soul. She’d put up with it until the day her mother died. She’d thought that, at last, the curse was over. She’d been worried that Matteo would leave her, and there’d been worry over the bills, but there had been a part of her that felt… free.

She’d started to wonder about what else the world had to offer her, what life existed outside the parish borders, outside of the walls of this house. Matteo had crushed her hope, he’d shown her that her mother was right. All that existed outside of her home was wickedness. Evil. Malicious greed.

She stared up at the ceiling, a ceiling that she would soon have to leave, and knew that what she needed to do was calm down. She was overreacting and what she needed to do was calm down.

Marie pushed herself up from the floor and wandered into the kitchen. She took out a bowl of ice, wrapped a few blocks in a kitchen towel, and sat down at the table. It was too quiet in the almost empty house, so she reached over to turn on the old radio. She would take that with her when she left the house, she decided.