The Mafia Contract Series

WINTER

Apparently, my name is Winter, which pissed me off. What kind of fucking stupid name is that? Why was I named after the most depressing season there is? Summer, I could live with, even Spring, although that just sounds plain stupid.

For the next two days, my friend doesn’t leave my side. He’s there when I wake and when I fall asleep. The man’s a machine and as the shadow deepens on his jaw, I feel guilty that he’s not getting the chance to sleep in his own bed and take a shower at least.

There is something about Alessandro that comforts me, and I haven’t a clue why. He’s a scary man in every way, from his dark eyes and wild hair that’s tamed by a ponytail. The muscles that flex when he moves, and the ink scripted on his biceps that interests me way more than it should.Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

He has tried to help me by talking about a place called Rockwell Academy where apparently I went to college. I shared a house with him and my brother and four other people. I remember none of them.

He told me I married a man called Massimo against my will. The hatred in his eyes told me they didn’t get along and I wonder about that.

I still don’t remember a thing.

Names are fired at me and places I’ve supposedly been, but nothing sounds familiar.

It’s so frustrating, especially because it’s obvious he wants me to remember so badly, which surprises me.

I love the soft way he smiles and the gentle touches he makes before pulling back when I shrink away. I can tell it hurts him, but I don’t want to be touched. I can’t explain it.

My brother returns and brings me clothes, make-up and magazines. There are flowers from names that mean nothing to me. There are so many they even spill out onto the ward outside. I have been allocated a private room apparently, which I’m happy about.

After a few more days, I am discharged and as I walk between the two men who have stayed with me throughout this whole experience, I’m nervous for a very different reason.

Where are we going? Do I have a home? Will I remember it when I’m there?

To my surprise, we are met outside the hospital by a fleet of black shiny cars. Men stand waiting like a guard of honor, dressed in black with dark shades covering their eyes.

I stare around me in shock and Alessandro whispers, “Relax, this is normal.”

“For you maybe.” I blink as I take it all in and as a man holds a door open for me, I’m almost afraid to step inside.

Alessandro sits beside me on one side and Angelo on the other and as the door slams and we follow the car in front, I whisper, “What’s going on?”

Angelo takes my hand and squeezes it reassuringly. “The hospital told us we had to take you somewhere familiar.”

“To my home.”

“No.”

“Then where?”

Angelo sighs heavily. “Unfortunately, your home has been destroyed and there is nothing left of it. The home we lived in as children has been rebuilt. There are no memories here that would trigger anything, so we have arranged for you to spend the next few months on vacation instead.”

“Vacation?”

That was the last thing I expected to hear, and Alessandro takes my other hand and says softly, “To Italy. To my home.”

“But why?”

He flinches a little and I see an emotion in his eyes that confuses me.

“Because you are safe there and because it’s the perfect place to recuperate.”

“Will you be coming too?” I stare hopefully at my brother, and he nods, the strangest expression flitting across his face.

“I will be there for a few days, no more. My wife will meet us at the airport, so you will have some female company to enjoy.”

“Your wife? Do I know her?”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing, and Angelo shakes his head. “No, you’ve only met once.”

“Why?”

I’m so confused because why would I not be part of their lives if he’s my twin brother?

“Does she hate me?” I’m almost afraid of the reply and Angelo shakes his head. “Of course not. Nobody could ever hate you.”

“Then why does it feel as if I’ve done something wrong all the time?”

The men beside me tense and I wonder what they’re not telling me. It’s so hard trying to remember. I don’t recognize anyone, not even myself, and I’m so alone. I’m hating every minute of it and yet something is telling me I’m safe with the two most scary men I have ever met. Not that I remember meeting any. It’s as if I was born a few days ago in the hospital and have yet to live my life.

I’m surprised when we pull into a private airfield and see a sleek aircraft waiting. “What’s this?”

I stare in awe and Alessandro shrugs. “My grandfather’s jet.”

“Wow, he must be very rich.”

“He is.”

The car door is wrenched open, and Alessandro exits first, and I hear a low, “Bueno sera, Alessandro.”

“Bueno sera, Michele.”

He reaches in and offers me his hand, but I don’t take him up on the offer. I can tell he hates the fact I won’t allow myself to be touched. Not by anyone, and I wonder about that. Have I always been so weird? I certainly hope not, but there is something very wrong about anyone’s hands on me. Almost as if I would be punished for it. I don’t understand why, and I wonder if it has anything to do with the man they said I married, Massimo.

As I head up the steps of the aircraft, I think about my wedding. I have no memory of it all. Was I in love and where is he now?

I’m so confused and when I step into the aircraft, I gaze around in wonder because I wasn’t expecting this.

This isn’t an aircraft; it’s a hotel and I blink at the scale of this place. It’s dripping with luxury and has comfy leather seats and stylish furniture, kitting out a palace with wings.

I’m in awe when a woman stands and heads toward us with a welcoming smile and I don’t miss the fact my brother tears a path straight to her and takes her in his arms.

As they break away, she blushes as he pulls her forward and says proudly, “Winter, meet Jasmine, my wife.”

She smiles and seems friendly enough as she says gently, “I’m pleased to see you again, Winter.”

“Again?” I’m so confused because I have never met this woman before and her slightly startled expression is quickly covered as she smiles. “Come and take a seat. I’m here to answer any questions at all and reassure you that there are women in this man’s world we inhabit.”

She makes a valid point because it’s as if their world is filled with men in black suits and so I’m grateful to slip into a seat beside her and accept the glass of champagne she hands me.

“To having you back where you belong.”

She raises her glass and I say with a worried frown. “Why, where have I been?”

I don’t miss the concerned look in her eye as she smiles sweetly. “It must be frightening losing your memory.”

“It is.” I shake my head. “There is so much I need to remember, well everything really and I can’t believe I’ve forgotten my own name.”

I take a sip of the cool champagne and she smiles. “Some rest and recuperation may jog your memory right back.”

“I hope so.”

As the men climb on board and take up two seats nearby, I steal a glance at my ‘friend’ Alessandro. There is something so magnificent about him that has made my interest grow over the past few days. He is a gentle giant and there is something so comforting being around him, not to mention that I find him incredibly sexy.

Jasmine obviously notices me staring and laughs softly. “He’s very handsome.”

“He is.” I hate the desperation in my voice as I long for more than just friendship with this man, but I’m in no position to want something that can never be mine. I’m married anyway, so surely my husband must be worried about me.

“Will my husband be there?” I’m curious about that, and Jasmine’s startled reaction tells me I’m not going to like her answer.

“I… I… um, don’t think so.”

She is struggling and I wonder about that. There is something they aren’t telling me and so I call out to my brother.

“Where is my husband?”

The silence fills the plane, telling me I’m not going to like this, and the expression on his face scares me a little as he growls, “Hopefully in hell.”

“I don’t understand.”

I’m stunned and even more afraid when he spits, “That bastard was no husband to you. He was a bully who made your life a living hell. You will never see him again.”

I flinch at his words and Jasmine says quickly, “What Angelo means is that you were divorcing him. He wasn’t a nice man and, well, you’re better off not remembering anything about him.”

“I was divorcing him. Why?”

I can’t believe I don’t remember that, and Angelo says bitterly, “Because he is the man responsible for putting you in hospital.”

As the engines start up, it takes our attention away from the conversation and as we taxi out, I lean back in my seat with a troubled feeling inside. Whatever happened between me and my husband wasn’t good it seems and yet surely I would remember that. Remember him even.

Once again, I steal a look at Alessandro and take a sharp breath because the fury on his face tells me he’s angry about this. What did my husband do and why do they hate him so much?

As the plane takes off to God only knows where, I pray so hard that my memory is waiting for me there because something important is tapping away inside me. Something I must remember, and I don’t have a clue what it is.