My eyes fluttered open to a world that felt hazy and distant. Beside my bed, Elena, her hand tenderly clasping mine, offered a comfort that was both familiar and strangely unfamiliar.
"Mom?" I murmured, my voice a fragile whisper.
"Apollo, thank God you're awake," she exhaled, tears shimmering in her eyes. Her presence, a constant in moments of pain and peril, now felt like a lifeline in this disorienting reality. Yet, an unexplained ache for someone unknown tugged at the fringes of my consciousness.
"What happened?" I inquired, attempting to piece together the fragments of my memory.
"You were shot by Uncle Giovanni," she responded, her voice trembling.
"You were protecting Belle."
"Belle?" The name felt like an elusive puzzle piece, refusing to fit. "Who is Belle?"
Elena's expression twisted in shock and disbelief.
"Apollo, please tell me you're joking," she pleaded.
"Mom," frustration edged into my confusion, "Who is Belle?"
She hesitated, searching my eyes for a glimmer of recognition. Without a word, she hurried out to summon the doctor.
"He doesn't remember, Doctor," I overheard her say, panic lacing her voice.
"Is this amnesia permanent?"
As they spoke, the name Belle reverberated in my mind, carrying an elusive significance.
"Who is Belle, Mother?" I pressed again, urgency building within me.
Before Elena could respond, Sabrina entered the room.
"Belle is just a stripper, my dear," she dismissed.
"Your uncle was too rough with her."
"So, he shot me over a stripper?" I questioned incredulously, my frustration mounting.
"Mom, who is Belle, really?"
Elena's gaze met mine, a mix of sorrow and resignation in her eyes.
"Your ex-wife," she finally revealed.
The words struck me like a storm, leaving me lost in a fog of confusion and fragmented memories.
"With whom... and where... is Belle?" I pressed for answers, my voice trailing off, an urgent desire to connect the scattered dots of my memory.
But as the questions spilled from my lips, the sedative's effects, administered by the doctor, began to take hold.
The room blurred at the edges, my consciousness receding like the tide from the shore.
I fought against the encroaching darkness, yearning for clarity, for understanding. It was a losing battle. The world slipped away, leaving my unanswered questions suspended in the air—a haunting melody of confusion and longing.
***
My voice thundered as I removed the machines from my chest and arms.
"Everyone, leave now!"
The room slowly emptied, nurses and doctors departing one by one, except for Elena. She rose from her chair and approached my side, wordlessly lowering her eyes.
As she prepared to leave, I implored in a commanding tone, "Find Jimmy for me. He's the only one who will speak the truth."
She nodded, her exit like a gentle breeze sweeping through the room, leaving behind a soft echo as the door closed quietly. With a heavy heart, I closed my eyes, releasing a breath that carried the weight of my shattered soul.
I was fractured, yet the reasons remained veiled in forgotten memories. Each time darkness enveloped me, a vision of her came, a radiant woman in the shadows.
I reached out, hoping to see her face, but she slipped away, leaving behind the faint scent of hazelnut and English Oak—a delicate melody stirring my soul.
In her presence, my heart warmed with an inexplicable comfort, longing to be enveloped in her scent. Yet, as reality seeped in, the dream faded, leaving me grasping at fleeting memories.
Slowly, my past began to resurface, revealing glimpses of a forgotten history. Nicholas surfaced from the depths of my memory, bringing with him the haunting presence of pain. My trauma, paradoxically, had shielded me from darkness, making me more human. But the events of the past two years remained obscured, defying the clarity I sought.
Elena returned, sitting beside me, and taking my hand. In a soft voice, she delivered the news, "Leo says Jimmy's passed away, Apollo."
"How convenient," I scoffed, suspicion simmering beneath the surface. "I refuse to believe it," I declared, withdrawing my hand from hers.
"Tell me about Belle, or I swear her name will be the last thing anyone hears!" I threatened, my eyes piercing hers, my words sharp as steel.
"What do you wish to know?" Elena whispered, her voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air.
"Why isn't she here?" urgency tinged my words.
"She was sold to Giovanni by her father on her eighteenth birthday," Elena revealed. "With you in a coma and your prior engagement to her sister Rose, Colletti and Leo saw no reason to contest Giovanni's claim."
"This is insane!" I spat, fury boiling within me. "How could you allow that to happen?"
Elena hesitated before continuing, "Leo suggested that Belle might not be as innocent as she seems, possibly involved in her father's scheme for financial gain."
"So, she's a conniving opportunist? Is that the truth?" I challenged, incredulous.
"You sought affection, Apollo, and she provided it. Perhaps that's why you remember her," Elena offered gently.
"And Sabrina? Why the talk of marriage to her?" I pressed.
"She's carrying your child," Elena disclosed, her words landing heavily on my chest.
"When did this happen?" I demanded, my thoughts racing.
"Recently. Maybe you've misunderstood Sabrina's intentions for genuine affection," she suggested.
"If all of this turns out to be lies," I growled, "I swear I'll kill anyone who deceived me."
Elena nodded, her gaze shifting towards the window as she silently prayed for a resolution that wouldn't end in bloodshed.
Belle, in her own way, left traces of her love lingering in the air, like a hidden puzzle I was destined to solve.
I had no photograph of her, no tangible proof of her existence, yet she left behind a trail of affection, a scent that whispered a promise of her return.
Maybe I needed to release her to rediscover the ability to feel again. But all I feel now is a seething rage, a thirst for revenge. What I truly longed for was love, and deep in my heart, I knew she was the one who taught me how to love again.
The Beast within me might have sought vengeance in pursuit of the truth, but I realize now it only made me vulnerable. A man without love is a man without purpose, and my purpose was to remember how to love and be a good man once more. Not a beast, but a man who simply desired to be loved and to love in return.
Belle
The doctor had given me the green light to leave the hospital, but I couldn't bring myself to decide. Going back home wasn't an option—it no longer felt like home. Just as the idea of seeking refuge with Apollo crossed my mind, Giovanni's menacing presence invaded my thoughts, sending shivers down my spine. Tears streamed down my face as I buried my head in my hands, drawing my legs up onto the bed and curling into a tight ball, overwhelmed by the harshness of reality.
Ivan and Boris kept watch at the front door, respecting my need for privacy while staying vigilant, ready to act at any moment. Their concern for me surpassed even my own.
Aurelio entered the room, his steps purposeful as he approached my bedside.
Taking my hand in his, he drew me close, his voice barely above a whisper, "I just came from the meeting, Belle. They all made it. Giovanni and his men are still alive."
Collapsing onto the bed, anxiety gripped my heart. I grabbed at my hair, tangling my fingers in its strands, my eyes still swollen and red from the tears I had shed in the past few days.
"I feel sick," I managed to choke out.
"I'm sorry, Belle," he murmured, attempting to run his hand through my hair, but I recoiled, tilting my head away to the other side of the pillow.
I wasn't ready for any kind of touch, not even from myself. I wasn't ready to face life, not yet.
Then, he whispered, "Apollo is awake as well."
His words jolted me upright instantly. I grasped his hand, my voice trembling with urgency, "Elio, tell me he's okay, please, is he okay?"
"He's holding on," Aurelio replied softly, "but until he's fully recovered, you can stay with me."
"Will he make it?" I pressed, trying to ignore the fact that I had no other choice but to go with him.
He nodded solemnly, helping me to my feet.
"We need to go. Can you walk?"
"I'll try," I murmured.
He supported me as we left the room, me still in a hospital gown. He removed his blazer and draped it gently over my shoulders, to which I whispered, "Thank you."
Shattered, both inside and out, each step weighed heavily on me, piercing the stitches in my gut—a grim reminder of the fruitless battle I had fought. But I couldn't voice that sentiment. I had fought for myself.
Slowly, we made our way outside, where a car awaited us. I shook my head, shielding my eyes with my hand as the sun's brightness felt overwhelming. The darkness within me seemed to intensify, making the sunlight outside feel like it was scorching me from the outside in.
I wasn't ready yet to face the beauty of the world; all I could see were the shadows of my past.
As I settled into the car, I turned to Aurelio, questioning, "Why are you helping me?"
He placed a comforting hand on my cheek, murmuring softly, "You know why."
But as I turned away from his touch, he cleared his throat, adding, "Apollo's like a brother to me. He had his reasons for keeping you close, and I know he would appreciate it if I took care of you."
As the car started moving, I diverted my gaze to the floor.
"I remember high school. But I don't remember who I used to be. That girl is no longer here."
Aurelio looked at me, his gaze distant, more so than mine.
"And I'm not the same boy you once knew."
We fell into silence. It hung in the air, laden with unspoken words and unlived pasts. I was no longer the girl who viewed the world through rose-colored glasses, believing that evil villains only existed in fairytales.
That innocent girl had been replaced by a woman whose heart was encircled by the thorns of cruel betrayals by those she trusted.
And Aurelio was no longer a boy either—not the boy who used to sneak me chocolate croissants on Valentine's Day so I could taste something sweet for the first time.
He was a man entangled in the world of the mafia, and just as Apollo had said, the mafia molds boys into soldiers ruled by vengeance. I couldn't unsee it in his eyes.
They were not the same; he might have wished they were, but he was just as broken as I was.
***
The mansion loomed before us as we arrived, its stone walls bearing the marks of a storied past when it served as a castle. Aurelio led the way inside, with Boris and Ivan stationed at the doorway, vigilant to prevent anyone from slipping past.
Through the grand hallway with its red carpet, Aurelio guided me to the bedroom, but I felt numb. This grandeur failed to impress me as it might have once. Its beauty was nothing but another cage I had to be trapped in, and my only wish was to find peace within its walls so I could stop thinking.
We came to a stop at the room, and as Aurelio opened the door, I walked straight inside.
"My sister left some clothes here. They should fit you, and she hardly wore them," he mentioned, trying to be helpful.
But my mind was elsewhere, his words barely registering as they entered one ear and left the other.
"How is Apollo?" I asked, catching him off guard.
"Rest now. We can talk about it later," he deflected, but I wasn't having it.
"No," I insisted, shutting the door in his face, and trapping us both inside.
"You're not going anywhere until you've answered all my questions."
He sighed, clearly taken aback by my sudden assertiveness, and took a seat on the bed, saying, "Ask away."
"How is he, really?" I pressed.
"Elena said he's stable, but he has amnesia. They're running tests to see if it's permanent," Aurelio disclosed.
A curse slipped from my lips as I sank down beside him, the weight of the news sinking in.
"He can't remember?! Does he remember me? Please, I must know," I pleaded, burying my face in my hands, overwhelmed by the pain. Tears flowed like waterfalls down my cheeks as my heart sobbed.
Aurelio shook his head, and my cries filled the room once more before I collapsed at his thighs, crying out my pain. His eyebrows furrowed with concern, and his eyes reflected worry.
Leaning against him, I whispered, "I miss him, Aurelio," my voice breaking.
Aurelio responded gently, his hand resting lightly on my hair.
"You really fell for him, didn't you?"