Page 14 of Mafia Christmas Vows

Elena nods. “That is what I thought.”

“It’s not like that,” I growl at her.

“Oh, it very much is. She’s a nice girl. You’ll see.”

“It doesn’t matter how nice she is, Elena. I am too busy to have a wife, but I need one…”

“For the house. Of course I know.”

I arch my eyebrows at her.

Elena sighs. “You are a good boy, Alexei. You deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy,” I reply. Even as I say them, though, I know that they are a lie. That is surprising to me: I had never thought of myself as happy or unhappy.

I had only thought of myself as successful. Powerful.

But happiness?

It has nothing to do with the way I measure my life.

She pauses, and I can tell she wants to say something.

I know what it is.

But I refuse to listen.

“We’ll draw up the papers tomorrow. Then she will be married to me,” I finally grit out.

Elena’s lips purse.

I turn, hoping she will take my hint.

With a sigh, Elena leaves the room. She pauses in the doorway. “And then will it be fine for her to walk in her own house.”

I look away.

“Not that room, Elena,” I murmur.

With a sigh, she leaves.

As the snow falls, I shut my eyes and let the vodka burn through me.

I do not need a companion, a friend, or a lover.

I need a wife.

Or my legacy will be lost.

MAGGIE

Many little girls dream of a wedding day. You know. The whole true love, marry the man of your dreams, live happily ever after thing.

I never did. Not really. I didn’t have other dreams, per say, I just didn’t think about it. My mom lived her life rather happily unmarried, and I just assumed that I would do the same.

Being a therapist, or a social worker, or both, mattered to me a whole lot more.

Well. Being productive and making myself part of the world.

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