Page 66 of Wicked Knight 2

“I don’t know.” I pressed my thumb and forefinger to my eyes. “I wanted it all to be a lie.”

“Have you seen her recently? Where?” He dug into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “We have to notify Signora Vittoria. They’ve been so worried.”

“It’s too late for that. She’s probably home by now.” I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth, and then, reached for the wine and took a big gulp. “She’s all right.”

“The day of the accident, you were in Dumbo because you wanted to see her. I stopped you because it wasn’t safe. You were still being hunted by pretty much everyone. The Russians found you. Is that where you were this past year? They took you as their prisoner?”

“No, they didn’t,” I mumbled.

Not two hours ago, I thought of Papa as the only father I’ve ever known. Now I wasn’t so sure.

“Donata was taken about two months ago. Everyone was fairly certain the Russians had something to do with it.” Alfred pursed his lips. “I did what I thought you would’ve wanted me to do. I looked for her, but it was as if the Earth had split open and swallowed her whole.”

“She was with me. We took her.” I rubbed the side of my face. “I wanted revenge.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll explain everything. Just give me a minute. Being here, I feel less disoriented. Like I can trust my memories again.” I rose to my feet and surveyed the appealing aesthetic of the room. “I’d like to take a look around.”

“Of course. Like I said, this is your home.” He gestured toward the stairs. “Perhaps you’d like to start with your bedroom? Fourth floor.”

I nodded then trudged up the steps. Even if some of the smallest details escaped me, a lot of the bigger things felt familiar—like the sitting area beyond the landing, the bedding in my bedroom, and…I glanced up at the top floor. Ava Conti. Her name flashed in my head right before I heard the loud bang of a gun.

My heart raced because I knew what I would find when I reached the library. Slowly, I pushed the door open and welcomed in the nightmares. Donata had said I had killed Ava’s murderer. That he’d been my first kill. And that my mind kept going back to this moment in time because this was the catalyst for the next six years of my life without Donata.

The murder board lay exactly as I had left it a year ago. “I meant to take it down. But I couldn’t.”

“I know.” Alfred appeared in my peripheral vision. “When you disappeared, I didn’t know what to do. It didn’t seem right to put it away without your permission.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” I peeked at the different pictures, newspaper clippings, notes written in my handwriting. “Is this her, Ava?”

“Yes, Sir.” Alfred ambled to the desk and took out a folder filled with more photos of her and papers. “It’s all here.”

“Did Donata and I live here?” I took the manila folder from him.

“For a brief time. Do you recall?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Most of my memories of her are more of a feeling than anything else. It seems our story always ends the same way. I keep losing her. Over and over. She’d be there one moment, and then, gone the next. And I can’t tell if I’m remembering something or just going insane.”

“You were on the run for a long time. Being with Donata was nearly impossible.” He offered me a kind smile. “Though you never stopped trying.”

“Tell me everything. I need to know how I ended up like this.”

Alfred spoke calmly as he narrated my own life to me. He talked about Uncle Jimmy, the feud between the original crime families, my role in his fucked-up game of chess. A game that landed both Donata and me in the hospital. His thirst for revenge led him to a manhunt that lasted almost six years.

Then came the final blow. My entire family was dead. That was something Donata had omitted from her story. I didn’t blame her. If I couldn’t believe the good parts, there was no way I’d be receptive to something as tragic as losing parents and siblings in one fell swoop. To be the only survivor, unable to help, had to have been hell.

My story with Donata was chaotic to put it mildly. She’d stalked me for years before I admitted to myself that I had feelings her.You’re my dirty little secret.My own words echoed in my head. Our love was forbidden. She fought for us when I wouldn’t. I didn’t deserve her.

When Alfred finished, I sat in silence for a long while. In that time, my headache went from throbbing to dull. When he asked again what’d happened to me, I told him everything I knew about Papa, the Brotherhood, and my time with Donata at the compound. Saying the words aloud helped me put things in perspective. The dreams and broken memories were no longer a jumbled movie, but two separate timelines—one that belonged to Luca and another one that belonged to Maxim.

“Have I ever been to Moscow?” I asked.

“Yes, many times.” He furrowed his brows. “Why do you ask?”

“So it’s possible the memories of me walking the city are real.” I rubbed my temple.

“I believe so. What happens now, Luca?”

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