THE MAFIA’S MISTAKEN BRIDE

Xavier’s POV

A loud shrill of fright leaves my mouth as I struggle in my sleep and finally flicker my eyes open to see I am in my room.

I am wet all over and my breathing is hard. Instinctively, I sit upright on the bed with my gaze forward as I think over the dream again.

I thought I had gotten over it. It’s been a while since I had that dream but now it is back. This dream has haunted me for years and now it is back.

Why?

A fresh toxic stab of guilt consumes me immediately and I drag a hand through my hair with my eyes closed and my teeth gritting each other.

Suddenly, a sharp pain hits me. I open my eyes as soon as I drop my hand from my hair wondering where the pain is coming from. Then my eyes fall on the bandage on my shoulder.

My right shoulder.

The memories come rushing too instantly.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

I was shot on my way back from the club. Did I pass out? Who is behind this? What is happening?

Hurriedly, I step down from the massive bed ignoring the weakness in my body and the pain shooting from my shoulder. I grab a hold of my phone from the bed stand to see several missed calls from Ethan, my second in command who is away in Swtizaland to catch a spy, Antonio and two other members of the group.

Without hesitation, I dial Antonik’s number. It rings for a while without a response, making me curse beneath my breath in impatience and anger.

Who is behind this? What is happening?

I can’t seem to fathom what is going on. But I believe one of them will have an answer to this. That club is the safest place ever. That is like a second home to us. What happened?

With an angry flush, I dial his number again and this time, he picks up.

“Boss”, he calls out quickly.

“What the hell is going on? The club is under attack. I was shot yesternight and I couldn’t even get the…”

“We have him, boss”, he cuts me short immediately and I raise a brow, wishing he can see me.

He doesn’t sound like this is a big deal. It is a big deal to me because nothing like this has ever happened in our own den. That club is our den. Who would have such guts to come attack the club?

“You have him?” I ask to be sure I heard him right.

“Yes, boss”, he replies.

With satisfaction, I disconnect the call. I drop the phone from my ear, standing still with many thoughts running through my mind.

For no reason, I have this unsettling feeling stirring within me. That horrible feeling you get when something bad is about to happen. The same feeling I got 20 years ago during that accident.

I should have taken the feeling seriously. I shouldn’t have ignored it like it didn’t matter. But ever since that day, it mattered. My instincts are always right. Only on a few occasions, do I get them wrong.

But now that I know they have whoever is behind this, I guess I should put that behind me for now and deal with the jerk.

On normal occasions, I would have instructed them to get rid of whoever it is but this is a special case. I need to see that bastard first to get my answers and I need to end him myself.

I am going to give him the slow death that he deserves.

I toss the phone to the bed and begin to walk to the bathroom to take a hot bath. A low growl of frustration leaves my mouth when a knock resounds on my door.

Realizing how dark the room is, I clap my hand to signal to the mini robot I have on the desk opposite my bed and the light comes on.

“Come in”, I say nonchalantly as I wait to see who it is.

The door opens and Mathew comes in. Someone follows behind and it turns out to be her.

Andre.

“Good morning, boss”, Mathew greets without a smile. He knows better than to do that. I find it annoying when my workers do that.

I nod in response, shifting my gaze to the woman behind me.

Instantly, it hits me.

Today is our wedding.

Shit!

How could I have forgotten such a thing? I really need to go see that bastard first and figure things out. I need to know what is going on so the wedding will have to wait till everything is resolved. I can’t get married amidst all this.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?” Her voice breaks into my thoughts and I peer down at her. She is smiling at me, making my jaws tighten.

Who the hell does she think she is to smile at me that way?

The Andre I know does not even smile unless it is fake. Honestly, it seems genuine but I want a reason to believe it is fake.

“Her parents are here, boss”, Mathew informs me. “The wedding”, he recalls.

I wave them away indifferently. “It has been postponed.”

Expecting a happy expression on her face, I study her but she doesn’t look displeased or pleased about the news. All I can see is the concern.

Mathew nods and turns to go out but she remains still in her silk nightwear, bringing out her shape and exposing a clear picture of her nipples.

“Do you feel better?” Her question makes Mathew stop. He turns around and our eyes meet.

“Why do you care? Get out!” I bark angrily before opening the bathroom door. I enter and close the door behind me when a knock resounds again, this time on the bathroom door.

Furiously, I throw it open to reveal Mathew. When I step out, Andre is already gone.

“Boss, do you remember anything from last night?” he demands, with furrowed brows making me curious.

“What do you mean?” The anger is still visible in my tone. I can’t say if it is because of Andre and her fake concern for my health or because of Don and the fact that this thing happening might really be bad news.

“About her”, he points to the exit where she was standing a few minutes ago. He hesitates before calling out her name. “Andre.”

“What about her?” I watch him intently, curiosity eating at me.

“She…she helped stop the bleeding and treated your wounds before the doctor arrived”, he announce to my hearing, making me confused.

Andre treated my wounds? How come I can’t remember when that happened?

“Andre?” I ask again to be sure and he nods.

A sardonic smile leaves my lips. The Andre I know is repulsive to blood. She is the true definition of a spoiled brat and she would never do something like that. She would rather take the pleasure of watching me bawl in pain and die so she can be free.

Andre would never touch me on her own free will. She can’t even administer first aid. She can’t stand the sight of blood. She isn’t caring enough to do all of that.

Has she changed? Is a few months of being away enough to change her? Did she learn to administer first aid when she was away?

Nah!

The answer is definitely no. I know Andre like the lines on my palm. And this is definitely not a quality she possesses.

Being caring and hardworking to the extent of offering to administer a first aid treatment to me is not something she would ever do.

“Yes, she did. I was surprised too but she insisted on stopping the blood or…”

I raise a hand to cut him short as the memories flood in. The moment when I was in extreme pain and she appeared, making me filled with extreme rage and anger towards the bastard who shot me and made me look like a weak man in front of her.

Then she came close and touched me. Andre touched me. She removed my wet shirt and helped stop the bleeding.

I can vividly remember everything now. Including her worried expression as she tended to me before I fell into a deep slumber.

Andre?!

My eyes fly to the door.

The expression. The worried look was still on her face a few minutes ago. Is this another trick to get me off track to believe that she is a different person?

“Boss, I think we got the wrong person really. I have a strong belief that this is not Andre. It can’t be her.”

I want to bark at him to shut up. Who is he to conclude whether she is Andre or not? I know Andre. I saw her. She is everything…

My heart skips a beat.

The hair. The white hair. It seems natural.

The eyes. It is different from the Andre I know.

The calm composure.

And now the repulsiveness to blood that I know of Andre is gone.

Is this really Andre or someone else?

I cover my mouth before a gasp can leave me then watch the door, wishing for an answer from somewhere to the big question in my head.

Who is Andre Moore and who is Jasmine Cooper?