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“T-the mafia?”

“Correct. I have my suspicions considering your assault.”

“You think they did this to me? Dad’s enemies?”

He stands in front of me, sparing me the pain of leaning back. My neck muscles sag in relief when I return at a normal angle.

“They weren’t your dad’s enemies, that’s why it’s weird they’re coming after you, let alone three years after his death.” He crouches in front of me. “I’m your lawyer, Reina. If there’s anything I need to know, tell me.”

“I-I don’t know.” My tongue feels heavy in my mouth. “Why are you so sure it’s the mafia? Can’t it be someone else?”

“This has their fingerprints all over it. The assault, the break-in, and the black van that was camped near the hospital as soon as you were admitted.”

That’s bad. Super bad. “Does this mean I’m still in danger?”

“They disappeared, but they can always return.”

“The police?”

He scoffs. “They’re useless and they think Gareth’s business is still tied to the mob. They’re after you, not with you, Reina. You need to understand that.”

“I do.”

“I need to know what we’re dealing with. If you remember anything, I have to be the first to know, okay?”

I nod slowly.

Alex nods back and rises to his feet, then wheels me inside. My heartbeat hammers at the load of information I just learned. The mafia. Why the hell would my father get involved with something so dangerous and where do I fit in the entire picture?

A plump woman with bright blonde hair quickens her footsteps toward us. She stops and wipes her hands on her apron, gaze kind but distant.

“Welcome back, Miss Reina. I hope you’re feeling better.” She speaks with a slight Southern accent.

I stare at Alex, silently asking who she is.

“This is Elizabeth,” he says. “She takes care of the house.”

“So it’s true.” The corners of her eyes pull downward. “You remember nothing.”

I nod slowly, feeling awful that I’ve completely wiped her—and everyone else—from my memory.

“It’s okay, darlin’.” She takes my wheelchair from Alex’s hands.

He places his phone to his ear as he takes the stairs to the left. “Elizabeth will take good care of you. Let me know if you need anything, Reina.”

He disappears before I can say anything.

“He’s a busy man, isn’t he?” I ask Elizabeth.

“I’m surprised he took the time to bring you home from the hospital—” She cuts herself off and quickly follows with, “Not that he wasn’t worried about you. He was, but…well—”

“His work comes first.” I finish for her.

“Well, yes.”

I kind of figured that out with the amount of time he spent on the phone the whole way here.

“He does care, though,” she murmurs, as if speaking to herself.

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