The Mafia Contract Series

ALESSANDRO

Watching Winter laugh again is the best sight in the world. For one night only we are the kids we were back at Rockwell. Chilling out, eating pizza and laughing, something that’s been on short supply these past few years. It’s as if the storm has broken and rain is drenching our battered souls. We did it; we brought down the madness that still goes by the name Massimo Delauren.

Winter laughs at something Flynn says, and I don’t even mind that his arm is draped across her shoulders as he whispers his usual shit in her ears.

Angelo takes the seat beside me and throws me a beer. “Thank fuck it’s all over.”

“Are you sure about that?” He raises his eyes at my question, and I jerk my thumb in Winter’s direction.

“She’s still suffering.”

“How?” Angelo’s low growl matches how I feel inside, and I sigh heavily. “She’s lost her memory and even though parts of it are resurfacing, there’s still a lot of shit she’ll have to deal with. Who knows what that fucker put her through and when she remembers, it may throw up a whole set of new problems.”

“That we will deal with.” Angelo’s voice is rough and filled with warning because he will do anything to keep that smile on Winter’s face. “What’s she said?”

I shrug. “Just that there’s something important she can’t shake. It’s as if something is blocking her memory and it’s vital she remembers.”

Angelo shrugs. “It’s understandable. I mean, I’ve never lost my memory, even though I’ve wished it countless times.”

“You don’t mean that. It’s the past that makes us determined to do better in the future.”

Angelo shakes his head. “We’ve all lived with shit, and I can’t see that changing anytime soon. It’s how you deal with it that matters now.”

“Talking of shit. What are you going to do with Massimo?”

I’m interested because I believe his stay at my grandfather’s home will be a short one, and Angelo grins.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“Tomorrow, a plane is taking him back to Los Angeles. There’s an institution that has his name on one of the doors.”

“An institution?”

Angelo grins. “It’s where madness lives. A hospital of sorts for patients who can no longer care for themselves. Massimo will fit right in, and I’ve reserved him a spot with ordinary people surrounding him, which he will absolutely hate. He will be kept alive for as long as possible with only the odd visit from yours truly to bring him up to date on how happy his ‘wife’ is with her new husband while they live in his home and profit from his business.”

“And?”

It’s not enough and Angelo shrugs. “You can always pile on the misery by visiting him yourself. I have been assured by the doctors there is nothing they can do for him. He is permanently paralyzed and in a state of locked-in syndrome. He can’t even eat and will be fed through a tube for the rest of his miserable life, and yet his brain functions normally.”

“Do you really believe he has a normal brain?”

I roll my eyes and Angelo nods, casting a tortured look at his sister, who appears a lot happier now.

“We keep him alive and when Winter remembers what he did to her, we will have our revenge. There is not a chance in hell I will allow him the easy way out. He may not experience physical pain, but I will become a master at mental torture. If I do nothing else, I will make his last days on earth a living hell and he will pray for death to come and claim his twisted soul.”

Malik drops down in the seat opposite and grins. “Everything went according to plan. Word on the street is that Massimo suffered a catastrophic stroke, reducing him to a vegetable. His daughter will inherit his wealth and her husband the business.”

I look across at Ivan, who is listening to Flynn and Winter and as I catch his eye, he nods toward the door.

After excusing myself from my friends, I head over to Winter and my heart lurches when she lifts those beautiful eyes to mine, and it’s like a physical dart to my heart. As I drop a light kiss on her lips, I whisper, “I won’t be long.”

“Where are you going?” She looks fearful, making me second guess my decision, but Flynn catches my eye and nods toward the door, mouthing, “I’ve got this.”

Turning back to Winter, I run my finger down her cheek and say huskily, “You know Ivan, always spoiling for a fight.”

She laughs softly and rolls her eyes. “Go and have your fun. I’ll be right where you left me.”

It’s like a physical pain stabbing me as I walk away from her, but Ivan’s right. I need this, he needs this and I’m guessing Winter needs this because the sooner we get back to normal, the better it will be for everyone.

I follow Ivan to the gym and as we walk, he growls, “Fuck, I need to let off steam.”

“You have a wife for that.”

He laughs out loud. “Do you honestly think I want to do this to my wife? You’re one sick bastard.”

“I heard she can fight.”

I grin as Ivan rolls his eyes. “Charlotte believes she can do a lot of things, but her fighting skills are basic level. She has more cultivated ones that interest me more.”

“Where is she?”

“With the others. Angelo wanted tonight to be about Winter. To ease her back into our lives gently and try to make her feel safe and loved. She’ll get to meet the women tomorrow, but for one night only, we’re heading back to the past and I can’t wait to find out how complacent you’ve become.”

We reach the gym and waste no time in ripping off our clothes and enter the ring naked, save for our Calvin Klein’s.

As we circle one another, It’s as if a huge weight has lifted because now, in this moment, I can channel my aggression and let off some steam.

The first blow hits me hard and my breath is winded in my body as Ivan growls, “You’re a little rusty, Beast.”

In answer, I swipe my fist and catch him low in the stomach, but he merely laughs before kicking my legs from under me, causing me to slam down hard on the ground.

For a few painful moments The Savage reminds The Beast what it’s like to lose and, with an angry roar, I gather my mind and focus on the only thing I need right now. My rage.

As we slug it out, it’s not pretty, and the air becomes thick with blood and perspiration. The agonized roars and feral groans disturbing the usual peace as we batter one another in a much-needed show of aggression that I’ve been holding onto since Winter left.

As we brawl like backstreet fighters, it clears my head and brings with it the realization that Ivan was always the only man who could beat me. He is obviously fighting his own demons and with every punch, every kick and every blood coated bruise, it regenerates our souls and reminds us exactly who we are. We will always need each other. We are evenly matched and have our own set of rules. It’s good to be handed my ass from time to time, and I will only accept that from him.

Time has no meaning in the ring and as the last punch falls, we groan on the floor, battered and bloodied but so high on adrenalin I would go again if my body could take it.

“Fuck, I needed that.”

Ivan gasps beside me and I nod in agreement. “It’s been a long time, Savage.”

“Too long.”

“So, what’s it like to head up a family, especially one as fucked up as Massimo’s?”

Ivan pulls himself up and leans against the ropes, and I follow him as he laughs softly. “It’s good man. Those fuckers can’t believe their luck. The tales they tell are of one fucked up pile of shit.”

“I don’t even want to hear them.”

He says with concern. “They hated their boss and what he was capable of.”

“Like what?”

“His hobbies mainly. He had an endless supply of young men delivered for his own pleasure. He strung them up in his dungeons and fucked with their minds and bodies.”

I feel sick and he growls, “Word is, he had his own private part of the house nobody had access to. Only his fingerprint opened the doors, and he had a silent army to serve him.”

“Silent?”

“He removed their tongues so they couldn’t speak of the horrors they witnessed.”

Just picturing Winter in that hellish place twists the knife even deeper into my soul and Ivan says with disgust, “Nobody knows what really went on in there and I’m guessing the only one who does is blocking it from her mind.”

“Do you think it’s fear keeping her memory away?”

“Trauma, definitely. Charlotte told me she read up on it.”

I snort and he rolls his eyes. “Of course, she would, but she said anything could trigger the memory and when it returns, it may not be a pleasant one and we should be prepared for that.”

I consider his words and I suppose I always knew of that possibility. Winter may be here physically, but mentally she’s still fighting to find her way back to us and I’m not sure any of us are really prepared to deal with what happens when she does.