which he was unable to hurt me. But it wasn't meant to be. My worst nightmare was coming true, and there was nothing I could do about it. For a short time, almost no reporters had huddled outside the building as there were no new developments in the case. Now that Alessandro was awake, they swarmed the place once again. Just as they had the first day. Broderick led me to the entrance and made sure everybody kept their distance.
When we approached Alessandro's room, Detectives Reeds and MacFayden were stepping out on the hallway, and I froze at the sudden sight of them.
“Nice to see you again, Mrs. Damiani.” Reeds smiled. “We are very pleased Mr. Damiani is making such good progress. He is very eager to be reunited with you despite the unexpected setback.”
“What setback?” I asked, aware of the tension in my puckered brow.
“She doesn't know,” MacFayden murmured in surprise.
“Know what?” I demanded in a baffled voice.
“It’s not our place to tell you. The kind doctor inside will explain everything, ma'am,” Reeds said. “Now, if you'll excuse us. Duty calls and we have to be on our way.”
I remained frozen, staring after them in sheer confusion. What on earth did they mean?
“Mrs. Damiani.” The young doctor standing in front of the opened door attracted my attention. “Please, come in.”
Caught in a trance, I followed him inside the room and—in a moment—was confronted with those cruel, dark eyes. They were wide open, conscious and completely awake! The hairs of my scalp prickled. Alessandro didn't stare at me with taunting accusation. Instead, his eyes widened and his broad shoulders fell back against the pillow supporting him.
“You,” he breathed in disbelief. “The girl from the restaurant? You’re my wife?”
I regarded the doctor with sheer bafflement that he immediately recognized.
“I need a moment to talk to your wife, Mr. Damiani,” he explained, and gestured for me to follow him into the small adjoining room where they kept medication.
“I thought my colleague had informed you about Mr. Damiani's condition.”
“What condition?” I demanded with a humorless half-laugh.
“It appears Mr. Damiani is experiencing a slip in his memory—a kind of amnesia if you will,” the doctor explained. “It’s not uncommon among patients who wake up from a coma.”
“What do you mean?”
“To put it simply...your husband doesn't remember the last five years of his life,” he revealed. “He seemed quite shocked by the fact he was married.”
“But he has recognized me,” I said in wonder.
“He knows you from somewhere in the timeframe that he remembers, but he has no recollection of you being his wife.”
I exhaled one long, slow breath, feeling a pang of immediate relief. That relief disappeared the moment I remembered the man we referred to was none other than Alessandro Damiani. He was a mastermind of deception, and never in a hurry to extort vengeance. But once he moved in for the kill, it would be unprecedented and swift.
We traipsed back to Alessandro who scrubbed a hand through his hair and glowered at the smiling doctor.
“Mr. Damiani—” the doctor started, but was immediately cut off.
“I want to be left alone with my wife,” Alessandro bit out.
“I understand, but—”
Alessandro shot him a cutting look that I recognized all too well, and the doctor backed away. My brooding husband had that effect on people. I beseeched the doctor with my eyes because I didn't want to be left alone with my husband, but he just shrugged. “As you wish, Mr. Damiani.” Then, he turned to me and lowered his voice. “Don't discuss the gap in his memory. It will come gradually.”
The doctor left, and I remained standing at a safe distance. The fact his left arm was in a cast gave me some comfort knowing he wasn't in his full physical strength. Alessandro smirked as if reading my thoughts, and motioned with his healthy arm toward the chair next to his bed. “Please, take a seat,” he said softly.
My watery legs carried me to the chair. Aware his eyes followed my every movement. I sat down and brought my gaze to his face. His eyes were strange and so very unusual—like a distant memory.
“You have changed,” he stated after a long break of silence. “You look all grown up now.”
“It's been five years.” I decided to play along, despite the fact I was convinced this was all a well-orchestrated act to fool me.
His gaze scrutinized my face and slowly lowered, pausing on my shoulders. A slight frown crossed his face. “Your hair is shorter.”