Married To The Mafia: Book II

18 - Hell Hole.

Soft music from the band filtered into the air as Devlin and Pamela stepped into the reception venue. Now that it was complete, the decoration looked extravagant. Dominated in peach with a touch of white, the décor was artistically and skillfully blended onto every visible surface. There was a wisteria sprinkled with some crystal strands and glass chandelier hanging from an artificial tree and it provided extra ethereal nuance.

"Lavish." Pamela commented, looking impressed.

Devlin snorted. "Waste of time, energy and resource. Our wedding's was much preferable. Conservative, straight to the point. This is a time waster and a fucked up show off. That's all they are about, some bullshit show -" He trailed off when he saw the horrified looked Pamela was giving him. "What?"

"I know you hate these people but take it easy with the words. You're beginning to sound like a mad, jilted lover."

"Sorry. It's beautiful."

She scoffed. "Sunsets are beautiful, babies are beautiful, but this? This is fucking spectacular."

"Jeez Pamela. What are you a poet? You sound like a freaking soothsayer."

She laughed. "Devlin, please. A soothsayer is someone who sees the future."

"Not to me. A soothsayer is someone who sees hope in a mucked up situation. Which is exactly what this is."

"Wow, you are mad."

Their attention was shifted to the stage when the guests started to clap and a very popular operatic soprano, Anna Netrebko started to perform. Since the event was strictly by invitation, all the seats were designated by names but thankfully Fiona had reserved a seat for them. Devlin had pointed out that Vivian could notice and start asking questions but she had waved him off and said that Vivian had allowed her to bring one guest.

As they sat, Devlin tried to imagine how strong his mother was for living under the same roof with a spiteful woman. It was appalling. How had she survived? How had she looked into the eyes of the woman that at first took her new born from her and also took him away on a trip and never came back with him? How had she coped?

Devlin was sure as hell he wouldn't have been able to. He would have either stabbed Vivian to death in the middle of the night or poisoned her. He had no patience nor perseverance and he was proud of it.

His eyes fell on his step brother and he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. His memories with him was a fond one. Timothy had grown. He was very grown and very handsome too. It was a pity they hadn't grown up together. He looked happy and in love with the stunning woman that sat beside him and it brought a kind of satisfaction to Devlin. He was glad that his younger ones had lead happy lives.

Then his eyes fell on Vivian. His smile fell. She looked like a queen, proud, smug and radiant. Fit for the throne, mother of the groom. The philanthropist. The perfect mother and wife.

She hadn't aged a wink. She looked just as he remembered but he was as sure as night follows day that she had a bucket load of money and a team of cosmetic doctors to thank for that. Her nose and chin alone looked store bought. Not to mention her lips and tattoo brows. She was as fake as she was vile and he detested her just as much.

It riled him that unlike her, his mom looked very tired and wrinkled. Though he had cried out of love and emotions filled with just discovering her as his mother and his happiness to see her again, he had also cried from how she looked. Crease lines were on her forehead the sides of her eyes. He wished they'd come from laughing too much like it usually were for aging people but he knew better. His mother had gotten all wrinkled from from serving Vivian.