“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.
There was also the idea that she’d just bested Celeste at her own game. So, there was pride in that mixed bag of emotions, too.
“Fuck,” Marie breathed the word out and pushed herself up from the floor. She had dinner to make, a husband to welcome home. She blinked a few times as she stood up, her heart still pounding, but it all started to calm down she finally felt after a few moments.
Her own mother hadn’t wanted her, she thought as she walked into the kitchen and downed the rest of her drink. That she was aware of, perfectly aware of. Celeste had wanted Matteo, but she did not, she most certainly did not, want Marie in his life. Would she ever be good enough for anyone from that generation?
She put the glasses in the sink to wash and got back to her jambalaya. Celeste’s