Page 65 of Wicked Knight 2

“We’ll see you later, Maxim,” one of the men called out as he waved me through.

“Thanks.” I put the car in gear and drove off.

Donata’s idea was insane. She was sending me into the wolf’s lair, and I was stupid enough to let her lead me there. I didn’t bother following the less conspicuous route like we’d done the night we kidnapped Donata. Instead, I took the shorter route, not giving a shit if the Italians decided to come after me.

An hour later, I stood at the address Donata had left me. The door of the brownstone loomed over me like some sort of magical portal. I couldn’t ignore my gut anymore. Something terrible was hiding beyond the threshold. But I’d come this far, backing out wasn’t an option. I wanted answers, now more than ever.

With a heavy heart, I walked up the stoop and knocked on the door. While I waited, I considered what I would say to whomever showed up. I could try for facts. Or at least, what I thought were the facts. I had barely decided to go with the amnesia story when the door swung open.

A man in his early sixties blanched as soon as recognition registered in his eyes. He knew me. For a long while, we both stood there staring at each other. I wracked my brain, looking for the right thing to say. When I opened my mouth to speak, he beat me to it.

“Jesus Christ, Luca. I thought you were dead.”

CHAPTER23

Broken Memories

Maxim

The man stepped out and brought me in for a bear hug. Who was he to me? He seemed old enough to be my father. Why did Donata not mention him before? Especially after she learned what’d happened to Mom.

“How do you know me?” I asked when he pulled away from me, wiping his eyes.

“I don’t understand.” His gaze flicked to the street then back to me. “Do you not remember me?”

“No, not really. May I come in?” I glanced over my shoulder. A gut feeling told me that lingering at the door was dangerous.

“Of course.” He let the door swing open. “This is your home.”

I trudged past the threshold and into the vestibule. This house was like nothing I’d ever seen, and yet it felt familiar because I’d seen it so many times in my dreams. The more vivid one was the one where Donata and I had sex. I lifted my gaze to where I knew a beige sofa would be. A shock of adrenaline rushed through me when I found the piece of furniture exactly as I had dreamt it.

Had Donata been right all along? My nightmares were broken memories fighting to find their way back to me.

“I’m Alfred. Does the name mean anything to you?” He gestured for me to sit in the living area at the far end of the room. When I shook my head, he continued, “I’ve been in your service for over ten years.”

“You work for me? Doing what?”

“Butler. Among other things.” He offered me a weak smile. “What happened to you, Luca?” Alfred asked tentatively. “When I woke up after the accident in Dumbo, Enzo’s family’s neighborhood, you were gone. There was blood everywhere.”

“The car accident, that happened in Brooklyn?” I had a recollection of flipping over in a car. Papa said it’d happened in Moscow. “There were two men after me.” I lowered myself down on the cushions.

“Yes.” He sat across from me. “I was with you that day. Wait. Do you mean to tell me that for the past year, you’ve what? Been living with amnesia? Where?”

“It’s a long story.” I put up my hand to get him to slow down. As it always happened when I tried to remember, the splitting headache had already kicked in.

“Can I get you a drink? Sounds like we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yes, we do.”

Alfred stood and disappeared into the next room. When he returned, he had a glass of red wine for me. “It’s your favorite.” He set a napkin on the coffee table and placed the glass on top.

That was Donata’s favorite wine. “Did she put you up to this?”

“I’m sorry? Who’s she?”

“Donata sent me here. Did she ask you to tell me all this? Just to mess with my head.” I pinched the bridge of my nose to ease the pressure building behind my eyes. “Did she?”

“Why would you say that?” he asked patiently.

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