The Mafia Contract Series

A strange sense of calm has descended over me, and it’s as if this is happening to someone else.

Meeting my mother was possibly the best experience of my life, but meeting Iris Young could prove to be one of the worst.

I’m still unsure how to play this because I’m not aware of how far into dementia she has fallen, but as we stand waiting, I am grateful that for once I’m not doing it alone.

Louisa’s hand in mine is comforting, thrilling and as if it was made to fit. It’s as if she was always meant to be standing beside me and that is what I’m most nervous about. What if I can’t have her?

That one sentence has become the most important one in my life because the more time I spend in her company, the deeper the ache grows. I want her so badly I’m thinking of nothing else and that alone has surprised me.Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

I’ve always craved a gentle soul, and she appears the gentlest I’ve met. Unlike the others, though, I want her for more than one night only and that’s what’s tearing me apart. What if I’m denied even one night? I’m not sure why it’s become so important to me for that at least. Possibly because of the emotions I’m experiencing with my newfound knowledge. Or is it just her? The one I’ve been searching for only to lose as soon as she is found.

Steeling myself for more disappointment, I nod to the woman who answers the door and regards us with suspicion.

“Um, can I help you?”

She looks nervous and I’m guessing that’s because of me, so I let Louisa do the talking as we agreed.

“Mr. and Mrs. Santiago.” Louisa beams, holding my hand tightly. “I think you are expecting us.”

“Of course.” The woman visibly relaxes under Louisa’s warm smile and steps aside to let us pass.

“Follow me. I understand you are here about a relative who may wish to make Cedar Heights her home.”

“Yes. We’ve been searching for the best possible place for her and have almost given up hope.”

The woman smiles, looking a lot more relaxed.

“Even though I’m biased, you won’t find a better place for your relative to live out her days.”

I drop back as Louisa charms the woman and cast my eyes over a palatial care home that only the wealthiest residents could ever afford. It’s clean, bright and has no trace of the smell these places usually have seeping from their walls. Not that I’ve been in many but had the misfortune to visit a few when the elderly relative of someone on our radar proves to be an invaluable tool of persuading their relative to give us what we want.

Louisa chats easily to the woman and after we fill in our contact form, making sure to use false information, I hear Louisa says in her gentle voice. “I would love to chat to one of the female residents about their time here. Would that be possible?”

“I don’t see why not.”

I quickly interrupt. “What was the name of the woman your aunt told you about? Wasn’t she her governess at some point?”

“You’re right.” Louisa turns to the woman and says casually, “I think her name was Mrs. Young.

Iris Young to be correct. Do you have a resident by that name living here?”

She looks surprised. “Yes, we do, but she’s an extremely private person.”

“Oh, that’s a shame because it would be so lovely to pass on the kind messages my aunt gave us.”

Louisa turns to me and says ruefully, “It would be so lovely for Aunt Ellen to meet a friend here. It would make all the difference.”

The woman obviously senses a deal breaker heading her way and I’m guessing wants nothing more than presenting her boss with another resident to inflate their bank balance and I watch with amusement as she seizes her chance and says quickly, “I’m sure it will be fine. If you follow me, Iris has one of our best rooms at the top of the building overlooking the fountain.”

We head upstairs and I hold my breath the entire time.

Louisa is acting so cool, and I am extremely impressed with how she conducts herself. I’m certain that’s why the woman is agreeing to this, and I’m also guessing her manager wouldn’t be quite so accommodating.

As we follow her down a carpeted hallway smelling of freshly cut flowers, I wonder what we will find.

We stop outside the last door in the corridor, and she smiles. “I’ll just check she’s ok with visitors. If you don’t mind waiting here for a second.”

“Of course not, we appreciate your help.” Louisa smiles at her warmly as she opens the door with a cheery, “It’s only me, Iris. Are you up for a couple of visitors?”

As the door slams behind her, I glance at Louisa and wink and she grins, the flush to her face telling me she’s loving every second of this.

We don’t speak in case we are overheard, and it’s not long before the door opens, and the woman pops her head out. “It’s fine. She seemed quite excited about it, poor love. She only usually has one visitor, so it will make a nice change.” She laughs gaily. “She even made me apply her lipstick and brush her hair before I came and got you.”

Laughing, she holds the door open wide and then stares at her phone as it vibrates in her hand.

“Sorry, duty calls. Will you be ok here for about ten minutes or so? I would stay, but this is an emergency.”

“It’s fine.” Louisa smiles warmly. “We won’t tire her out.”

“Thanks, we’re so short staffed it’s becoming impossible to…” She stops, looking mortified that her reckless words may have cost her a new resident and I say casually, “We understand and if anything, are more impressed that you provide such a welcoming home for your guests.”

She blushes a little and almost backs away from me, causing Louisa to raise her eyes and twist her lips to hide the grin.

As the woman walks quickly away, we waste no time and head inside a pleasant room, overlooking the garden with a fountain, resplendent in a sparkling lake outside.

However, the frail looking woman sitting upright in the chair by the window commands our attention because even as she nears the end of her days, Iris Young has an energy that demands respect.

“Come in and stop dawdling, children.”

Her curt voice makes us head inside quickly, and she says sharply, “Stand before me so I can look at you.”

Louisa is trying hard not to laugh as we stand like naughty kids before the principal, and she peers over her glasses and shakes her head.

“Stand up straight, girl, and stop slouching. Good posture is the best lesson you will ever learn.”

Her eyes swivel to me and she frowns and clicks her lips. “Goodness me, those rings must go and what on earth possessed you to scratch ink on your skin. Wear a long-sleeved shirt next time you visit with a tie; yes, a tie is always necessary when visiting.”

She points to a chair beside hers and says coolly to me, “You will have to stand.” I nod and watch as Louisa takes the spare seat and Iris Young regards us sharply.

“What do you want to know?”

For a moment I’m a little taken aback and Louisa says quickly, “We understand you are acquainted with a friend of ours.”

“Possibly. What’s their name?”

I’m beginning to wonder if Iris does suffer from dementia because she appears as sharp as my hunting knife and I hold my breath as Louisa says, “Massimo Delauren.”

I watch keenly for Iris’s reaction and am surprised to see a softening in her expression as she smiles, which relaxes her hard features almost immediately.

“My lovely boy. Yes, he is my son.”

Now I hear the dementia shouting at me loud and clear because I have researched their family and know that Massimo and Dimitri’s parents were two different people entirely.

Louisa looks confused and Iris leans back and beams with pride. “Yes, he’s such a good boy. He comes to see me once a week and I love hearing his beautiful voice. He always was a fine singer and loves it when I comb his hair as he sings me a lullaby, just like I used to do to him.”

What the freaking fuck. The image in my mind right now is making me nauseous and Louisa says kindly, “How lovely. You must be very proud.”

“Oh, I am my dear, he is such a good man.”

I almost laugh out loud and then she whispers, “Only to me, though. He isn’t so nice to anyone else.”

“Not even his son.” Louisa throws in a curve ball, and I feel as if my heart is about to give out on me.

Iris looks confused. “A son?”

Louisa nods. “I understand he had a son who must be in his early twenties now. At least that was what my aunt told me.”

“Your aunt?” Iris looks at her sharply and Louisa says without skipping a beat, “Yes, Vivian Clark.”

I watch the blood drain from Iris’s face as she hears a name she wasn’t expecting, and to my surprise, the tears well up in her eyes as her voice breaks. “You know Vivian?”

Louisa nods and smiles kindly. “Yes, she has a son, too.”

Iris looks up in shock. “I know.”

My mind is on red alert as I wait for the answer I need, and Louisa says in a breathless whisper, “Massimo’s son.”

Iris looks surprised and the confusion registers in her eyes.

“Massimo doesn’t have a son.”

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the relief is enormous, and I almost need to sit down. Then her next words shock me all over again. “You are mistaken, my dear. Vivian Clark had a son, that is true, but Massimo has a daughter.”