Page 58
Story: Mafia Boss's Fake Wife
Stassi nods. “Liam agreed that we need to make sure people buy into what we’re doing. So. Invitations, flowers, the whole nine yards. My mom will never believe that we’re getting married unless I really sell her on it, you know?”
Slowly, I pull my hand back. “You’ve said this a couple of times, Stassi. Are you in love with my brother?”
She rolls her eyes. “God, no.”
I blink.
Stassi sighs. “I mean, I’m not trying to say he’s like a bad guy or anything like that, you know? He seems fine, comparatively. But like, I owed Gia Rossi this huge favor, and there was a lot at stake with a marriage contract that she’s supposed to have with one of your brothers?—”
“One of them?” I say sharply.
Stassi nods. “Well, technically I guess it was Caterina, which set off like a whole chain of events awhile ago. But then Gia got kidnapped by Liam, who was trying to make an alliance with the Rossi crew because like, they’re pretty darn powerful, and Kieran was many things but a good leader wasn’t one of them, you know?”
I narrow my eyes. Stassi is either the best actress in the entire world, or she actually fucking trusts me with this.
“Anyway,” she continues, sipping her latte. “Gia and Sal had this whole problem, and Liam needed someone to marry, and I said okay here I am.”
“So, you don’t love him?”
She shrugs. “Why would I fall in love with my husband? That seems like a sure-fire way to get a broken heart.”
I snort. “I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Oh, come on. Tell me a single person you know who fell in love with their husband and actually stayed that way. Especially in our world, men don’t play by the rules,” she says.
I glance at Stassi. Her voice is so much harder now, the bubbly blonde receding. “I think that Marco’s siblings seem to be pretty happy.”
“There’s still time for all of that to fall apart,” she chirps cheerily.
Something about this beautiful, fun person talking about the prevalence of heartbreak feels kind of… wrong. “Stassi, you know that any man would be falling over their fucking feet to have you, right? Men literally worship the ground you walk on.”
She looks away. “Yeah, but there’s a big difference in how men treat women like that and how they treat apartner.”
“Okay. You’re going to have to say more about that.”
Stassi looks at me. “Men like pretty things. They like to look at them, take them out and play with them, and then put them back on the shelf. They don’t want me, Ro. They want to look at me and parade me around, but then I’ll go back on the shelf with everyone else,” she whispers. “And when something else pretty catches their eye? I’ll be locked away. Forever.”
Jesus Christ. “Stassi…”
“My mom taught me that. She was Ivan Novikov’s pretty thing. And she was fine with that. She knew how to get what she needed and then just get out. My mom was fine with the shelf. I’m not,” she whispers.
I search her face. “And Liam?”
She winks. “I don’t want him. He doesn’t want me. It’s perfect.”
There is absolutely no way that my brother doesn’t want Anastasia Novikov. It’s fucking insane to think that he doesn’t. “There’s no way that’s true.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t. So,” she says, giving me that bright smile. “Flowers?”
Slowly, I nod.
“I’ll get my coat.”
Stassi glides through my brother’s staff like she’s meant to be here. She knows them, already. She’s asked about four babies and has offered condolences to one grandmother by the time we pull into the village, which is by no means aselevated as the shopping that Marco and I did in Dublin. But, I will say as we walk around, Doolin appears to have become at least a little more modern since I was here last year.
The shops, at least, have figured out that high-end tourists are their target market.
Stassi drags me to not one, but two florists, and by the time we’re headed for the stationery shop, I can’t believe the fact that she’s already signed contracts with both.
Slowly, I pull my hand back. “You’ve said this a couple of times, Stassi. Are you in love with my brother?”
She rolls her eyes. “God, no.”
I blink.
Stassi sighs. “I mean, I’m not trying to say he’s like a bad guy or anything like that, you know? He seems fine, comparatively. But like, I owed Gia Rossi this huge favor, and there was a lot at stake with a marriage contract that she’s supposed to have with one of your brothers?—”
“One of them?” I say sharply.
Stassi nods. “Well, technically I guess it was Caterina, which set off like a whole chain of events awhile ago. But then Gia got kidnapped by Liam, who was trying to make an alliance with the Rossi crew because like, they’re pretty darn powerful, and Kieran was many things but a good leader wasn’t one of them, you know?”
I narrow my eyes. Stassi is either the best actress in the entire world, or she actually fucking trusts me with this.
“Anyway,” she continues, sipping her latte. “Gia and Sal had this whole problem, and Liam needed someone to marry, and I said okay here I am.”
“So, you don’t love him?”
She shrugs. “Why would I fall in love with my husband? That seems like a sure-fire way to get a broken heart.”
I snort. “I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Oh, come on. Tell me a single person you know who fell in love with their husband and actually stayed that way. Especially in our world, men don’t play by the rules,” she says.
I glance at Stassi. Her voice is so much harder now, the bubbly blonde receding. “I think that Marco’s siblings seem to be pretty happy.”
“There’s still time for all of that to fall apart,” she chirps cheerily.
Something about this beautiful, fun person talking about the prevalence of heartbreak feels kind of… wrong. “Stassi, you know that any man would be falling over their fucking feet to have you, right? Men literally worship the ground you walk on.”
She looks away. “Yeah, but there’s a big difference in how men treat women like that and how they treat apartner.”
“Okay. You’re going to have to say more about that.”
Stassi looks at me. “Men like pretty things. They like to look at them, take them out and play with them, and then put them back on the shelf. They don’t want me, Ro. They want to look at me and parade me around, but then I’ll go back on the shelf with everyone else,” she whispers. “And when something else pretty catches their eye? I’ll be locked away. Forever.”
Jesus Christ. “Stassi…”
“My mom taught me that. She was Ivan Novikov’s pretty thing. And she was fine with that. She knew how to get what she needed and then just get out. My mom was fine with the shelf. I’m not,” she whispers.
I search her face. “And Liam?”
She winks. “I don’t want him. He doesn’t want me. It’s perfect.”
There is absolutely no way that my brother doesn’t want Anastasia Novikov. It’s fucking insane to think that he doesn’t. “There’s no way that’s true.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t. So,” she says, giving me that bright smile. “Flowers?”
Slowly, I nod.
“I’ll get my coat.”
Stassi glides through my brother’s staff like she’s meant to be here. She knows them, already. She’s asked about four babies and has offered condolences to one grandmother by the time we pull into the village, which is by no means aselevated as the shopping that Marco and I did in Dublin. But, I will say as we walk around, Doolin appears to have become at least a little more modern since I was here last year.
The shops, at least, have figured out that high-end tourists are their target market.
Stassi drags me to not one, but two florists, and by the time we’re headed for the stationery shop, I can’t believe the fact that she’s already signed contracts with both.
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