Page 10 of Married With Malice

“You look….special,” says Daisy, always the cheerful diplomat.

Sabrina is more honest. “You look like you’re one full moon away from eating bats in a graveyard.”

Daisy smiles. “Your boobs do look fabulous.”

Sabrina shrugs. “Who knows? Luca might be into the whole Beetlejuice look.” Her expression turns troubled. “Are you sure you want to do this? If not, I’ll create a diversion and you can sneak out through the back door.”

I can envision my escape as if it were a movie scene; my sisters and I busting out of the church, dodging all the mafia thugs, stealing Big Man Bowie’s burger truck and speeding away to liberty.

Meanwhile, Luca Connelly gets left behind to suffer the very public indignation of being left at the altar.

What a lovely fantasy.

But it doesn’t erase cold reality. And in reality, I’m the only line of defense standing between my sisters and my father’s evil plots.

I don’t need to be happy about marrying Luca. I don’t even need to pretend. My father couldn’t care less if I’m unhappy. I’m fulfilling the promise I made and that will be good enough.

“Can’t disappoint a church full of waiting guests.” I flip the veil over my face. “Make sure someone gets a snapshot of the groom when he sees me walking down the aisle.”

Daisy hands me the largest flower bouquet. “Wait until you see how amazing the church looks.” She releases a dreamy sigh. “Bowie and I should have had a big wedding like this.”

“A big wedding?” Sabrina exclaims. “Are you nuts? Big Man Bowie is just lucky his balls are still intact.”

Daisy ignores the comment and plucks a flower from her bouquet. She sticks it behind her left ear. “I think there’s a wonderful chance that Anni and Luca will be very happy together.”

“And I think you’re already drunk.”

“You’re being silly, Brina. I never even felt the four mimosas I drank at brunch.”

I don’t have the energy to mediate this discussion. As I fling open the door I mull over the odds that Luca will take one look at me and sprint to the church exit. It could happen. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Anni, I’m really not drunk,” Daisy insists as she floats past with a hiccup.

Sabrina trudges into the hallway next. “My tooth still hurts,” she whines. “And I have a weird pain in my side.”

My girls.

A surge of fierce, protective love for my sisters is the only positive feeling I expect to have today. They need me and there’s nothing I won’t do to keep them safe.

I’ll even marry a man I despise.

2

LUCA

The Baron of Brooklyn raises a glass. “To the merger of our two families. Luca, may your union with my daughter be blessed with many sons.Buona fortuna.”

“Buona fortuna,” echoes Uncle Richie and drinks.

I make no comment before swallowing my glass of amaretto and scotch, courtesy of Father Tessio’s private stash. The three of us have temporarily taken over the old priest’s office. Richie suggested a quick celebration before the wedding ceremony and I’m in no position to refuse.

Albie Barone, who still calls himself the Baron of Brooklyn even though he doesn’t set foot in Brooklyn more than twice a year, finishes his drink and passes another obnoxious comment about all the sons I’m scheduled to sire.

He and my uncle share a belly laugh. They’re so busy having fun they don’t notice my silence. My small act of rebellion is to scratch my chin with my middle finger, discreetly flipping them off.

Old Albie finally heaves his girth out of Father Tessio’s polished oak chair and gives me a nod of encouragement. “Annalisa will be a respectful, obedient wife. Just like her mother.”

That’s hilarious.

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