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Axel
"Into Xander's home?" Luca bursts out. "You are letting him move into our brother's home?"
"He is our brother too," Michael replies without taking his gaze off of me.
Luca seems like he is going to protest some more, then firms his lips.
"You want me to move into Xander's place?" I rub the back of my neck, "Are you sure about that?"
"If Xander were alive, he would have wanted you to move in under his roof, so he could get to know you better. Besides, his place is lying vacant, and he would have hated for it to be treated like some kind of a shrine." He raises a shoulder, "I've moved his things out of his bedroom, and refurbished it to suit your needs. There are enough rooms to accommodate a physical therapist, as well, and household staff on call around the clock to help provide for your needs. As for his studio," Michael glances away, then back at me, "I have left it as it is. You and Christian can decide what you want to do with his paintings."
What he's saying makes sense, but I am not sure how I feel about moving into Xander's home. Especially when I can't get over the suspicion that they are treating me as some kind of a replacement for him. I purse my lips. "And if I refuse?" I ask Michael.
"You won’t," he states.
"And why is that?"
"Because you have nowhere else to go, and this is the only way you are going to stay alive."
"Brotherly love, huh? Gotta say, it hits me right here," I manage to raise my hand and thump my chest, then wince when even that small action causes my muscles to protest.
"The house will be guarded, of course," Michael adds.
"Of course." I tilt my head.
"For your own protection."
And so you can track my movements, no doubt.
"We haven't yet been able to trace the identity of the man who broke into your hospital room. Whoever he was, he's not on the police database, nor is he affiliated to any of our rival gangs," he watches me closely as he speaks, "I take it that doesn't surprise you?"
"It doesn't," I admit, "the people we are dealing with are not amateurs."
"And you know that, how?"
"Just a feeling," I rub the back of my neck, "doesn't matter. I don't have a clear recollection of my past. Instinct tells me the people I worked with are the ones who sent the man to kill me. And considering they were my associates, I can promise you they are professionals. They don’t muck about."
"You were lucky Christian shot him when he did," Michael points out.
"Are you telling me this because you want me to apologize to him for what I did to him and his wife?"
"It would help." Michael's gaze narrows, "In this business, family is what has your back. Family is what makes you strong enough that you can take on your rivals."
"You mean, safety in numbers?"
"We have a lot of enemies. If we fight with each other, it only makes us weak."
I stay silent.
He watches me for a few seconds, then tilts his head, "I have arranged for the doctors to check you out regularly; and the physical therapists will help you get back on your feet."
"You seem as much in a hurry for me to get better as I am."
"You’re my brother," Michael raises a shoulder, "of course, I want you to get better."
"Don’t bullshit me, Michael," I drawl. "What’s the real deal here?"
"We need you to regain your memory so we can find out who put you up to killing Christian."
