The Maid: Mafia Romance (Series)

Reunion

My world collided as my past, present, and future all meshed into one. The past, the pain of being abandoned by my own sister, and Pa, leaving me behind with a grave debt mounting over my head. The present, living as Giovanni’s lover, the man who’d saved me from the brink of poverty. He, who had given me a new lease on life, and the love I never thought I could attain in this lifetime. And the future, the grave uncertainty of what it might hold, now that my sister was standing here in front of me. All these facets of my life charred into one, and I became a crumbling mess.

I looked into the face of my sister, my one support pillar since I was young. She was as beautiful as always, as impeccable as always, with her large amber eyes staring straight back at me, her cupid’s bow lips stretched into a full smile, and her long lustrous brunette locks swept to the side. She was the epitome of perfection. If I didn’t know better, I thought she had blossomed into an even more beautiful person after our four-month separation.

I struggled with the mirage of emotion, each one fighting to bubble up to the surface. Anger, pain, happiness, joy, but none of which was able to tamp down that overwhelming feeling of relief. It had to be relief because what else could I feel, now that I knew she was safe and well. Despite the distress I felt during the initial phase when abandoned, everything got swept away as soon as she gave me that bright smile again.

I ran straight into her open arms. She welcomed me with a full embrace. I cherished it, burying my head into her shoulder and bawling my eyes out. Yes, this was my sister. She wasn’t some illusion like I’d conjured back in Singapore. She was the real physical thing.

“Jen. I missed you,” she said, almost too quietly that I almost didn’t hear her speak. She comforted me like she always did when we were younger, threading her fingers through my hair while patting my head softly, using soft soothing words to cheer me up. But today it had the opposite effect. The overwhelming feeling of seeing my sister again only encouraged more tears to shed from my eyes.

“I missed you, too.” I sobbed into her shoulder. “Where did you go? Where did Pa go? Why did you both leave me? Did Pa abandon you, too? What happened on that day?”

The questions I kept brewed inside my head for the past four months came bursting to the surface, and I ended up spewing them all out at once.

Amelia didn’t answer me right away. She was so calm and collected, unlike me who was experiencing one hundred and one emotions. That was, until I felt wet tears on my shoulders, and I knew she was as affected by our sudden reunion.

We stood like this, sobbing into each other’s shoulders, until we could cry no more. When I managed to somehow gather myself again, she led me to the bed, sat me down, and held my hands, squeezing them so tight I knew something was up. This was her way of expressing her emotion.

When Giovanni said I wore my emotions on my sleeve, I literally wore them on my sleeve, showing to the world all facets of my emotions on my face. But my sister, she was so subtle. Most times, I had no idea what was going on in her head, until it was small actions or gestures like these that confirmed my suspicion that something was wrong.

I recalled a time in our childhood, after I came out of the coma that resulted from the car crash that Amelia said had killed our mother.

Back then, I couldn’t remember her face, nor that of Pa or Ma’s. Amelia was just this strange-face beauty who always sat at the edge of my bed. I remembered I was always feeling groggy, pumped up to the maximum with IV fluids. Her face weaved in and out of my consciousness, but the one thing that always stabilized me and made me feel safe was the feeling of that warm hand squeezing mine ever so gently, as if trying to reassure me that the world was right again.

When I finally woke up after that six long months in the coma, she was the face I saw first, sitting beside my bed, squeezing my hand. She had introduced herself as my sister. “Hi, Jen. How are you feeling? Do you remember me? I’m your sister.”

I had shaken my head.

She squeezed my hand again and reassured me. “How about Pa?”

She’d pointed to a man in the corner, who was watching me from a distance. When I shook my head in the negative, he started sobbing miserably and went out of the room.

Tears started pricking my eyes as I couldn’t understand what was going on. When I woke up from that coma, I lost all concept of time and place. Everything to me was foreign, but this beautiful girl who claimed to be my sister reassured me.

She squeezed my hand tight and told me, “We are family, Jen. There are only the three of us now. Pa, you, me. My name is Amelia. Pa’s name is Warren. Can you say my name?”

“Aaa…” I tried to enunciate, but it was so difficult to say her name. Fat teardrops dripped down my cheeks, and she wiped them clean, kissing me on the forehead.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Just call me Mel. You can call me Mel.”

“Mel…. Mel,” I said.

“Yes. Yes. I’m your sister. Mel.”

“Mel…me…. named Jen?” I asked her, slowly trying to force out my question.

“Your name. Your name is Jenny. But I call you Jen. This is your nickname. You are my little sister.”

“Jen…Jenny.”

“Yes, Jenny. You are Jenny. I am Mel. Pa is Warren.”

I cried again. “Can’t remember.”

“Don’t cry, Jen. It’s okay. Don’t force yourself to remember. If you can’t remember us, we’ll just make new memories together.” She threaded her fingers through my hair and comforted me. “From now on, I promise to be a good big sister. I’ll protect you and take care of you. I’ll hold your hand and walk you to school every day. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And she followed through with her promise, always holding my hand and walking me to school; even when we grew up and she entered varsity and I was still in high school, she would always check up on me with text messages or phone calls. Our sisterly bond was unbreakable, before the world got complicated and we became separated.

I’d missed her so dearly, a stifled sob escaped me again, and I lunged into her for a second time, burying my face into her lap. I was physically scared that she would disappear again.

I knew I said that if I did see her again, the first thing I’d do was berate her, yell at her, give her my two cents and demand for her to give me an explanation as to why she had abandoned me when she was the one who was always preaching about family.

I’d even thought of banishing her, swearing never to speak to her again if I saw her. But these were just plain lies, lame excuses I came up with, just to provide some small comfort to myself during those dark days.

In the beginning it was tough. I knew I was strong enough to live on my own, but their sudden disappearance was always looming in the back of my mind. In some ways, it felt like a betrayal by my own family. Even though inside I was a crumbling mess, I would always put up a strong front so that people couldn’t physically and emotionally hurt me. I dodged the bullet, giving the middle finger to whatever life threw at me. I told myself I could handle it. But there were times in those first few months when I was left confused by their actions, crying into the pillow at night.

Their actions had led me to this consequence, where I had to grow up fast. Although it was tough, I now realized that this was a blessing in disguise, because it had led me to Giovanni.

“There now, it’s okay. I’m here now. Don’t cry.” Amelia’s soothing voice lured me back to reality. I chuckled, a mixture of sadness and happiness all rolled into one. In some way, I resembled a drunken fool with my contradicting emotion. I couldn’t help myself, though. Amelia was only four years older than me, but she acted like our mother. In a way, she was like my mother, always there to pick up the pieces when I fell apart, if I could remember what she was like though. But Amelia had always told me that if Ma were here, she’d be very protective of me.

I picked myself off her lap, lips still wobbly from my outburst. Amelia gently wiped my tear-stained face and gave a soft reassuring smile.

“You have not changed one bit, Jen,” Amelia said.

That’s not true. I was not acting like a baby. I had grown up a lot. And all Amelia did was give me that soft smile again, and my eyes produced more saltwater.

Oh God! What if Giovanni saw me in this state? He’d think I was a baby, too. At least I was a baby to Amelia. Her baby sister.

No more crying, I told myself. We laughed and chuckled a bit there. Our sisterly bond was strong. Except for Pa, there was only the two of us in this world.

Thinking about Pa, I raised that question again. “So what happened to you? Where is Pa now?”

“Pa…Pa.” Her voice started shaking, and her strong front somehow broke. She shook, and a little sob escaped her.

“Amelia.” I hugged her, this time giving her the comfort she needed. “What happened? Where is Pa? Did something happen to him?”Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Pa. Pa is fine.”

Her words were final. I couldn’t understand what she was implying, so I waited for her to elaborate further. Instead, she changed the flow of our conversation, turning to me and asking, “What happened to you, Jen? What happened on that day?”

I pulled back, surprised she could piece the information together that quickly. I started from the beginning, telling her my whole story and how I had come to be here.

“There was a message on my phone saying Pa had an emergency and asked me to come home. When I arrived home, there was a note and a letter. He wanted me to deliver the letter to someone, and I did. Except I didn’t realize it was a trap. He sent me as collateral to his three-million-dollar debt.”

“Oh, Jen. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.” My sister’s tears came trailing down again. Her shoulders shook, and now it was my turn to comfort her.

“Amelia. It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m fine. I’m really okay.” I reassured her. If anything, that was the best thing that had ever happened in my life.

“Jen. Forgive me. I wasn’t there when this happened. I was…I was…”

Something bad must have happened to Amelia. I could sense it in my bones. Like a flash of lightning, the memory of the two big giants the size of Heath shoving me into their van flashed before my eyes, and I became aware of my surroundings again. Our surroundings to be exact, and how did Amelia had come to be here, too? That’s it. She must have been kidnapped by these people, too, whoever they were.

“Amelia, were you kidnapped too? Did these people-”

I never got to finish my sentence. The door opened at that instant, and a tall man entered. His presence in the room couldn’t be ignored. He held this charisma that demanded authority. He was handsome, almost comparable to Giovanni and Justin. Except he had blond hair, the strands so pale, it almost appeared white under the bedroom light.

He gazed at me, then his eyes ran past me and settled on my sister. His mouth twisted into a side smirk, and his look changed into one that was pure intense lust. “Happy now, Amelia? I brought you what you wanted.”

“Let her go.” My sister, who had always been so mild and sweet in her mannerisms, shouted to this man, her voice holding a sharp and dangerous edge. I was shaking just from watching their interaction. She was a bonfire. I had lived with her my entire life, and I’d never seen her raise her voice to anyone before. The man should be scared of her; instead, he ignored her and approached me. He walked with a predatory gait, stopping only when he stood a foot away from me.

“So, this is what your sister looks like,” he said, cocking his head to the side, eyeing me up and down, like I was an object he’d taken an interest in.

If I were a turtle, I’d shrivel myself back into my shell; his eyes were so fierce, I was physically scared for my wellbeing. Even Giovanni didn’t freak me out like this. He reached his hand out and was about to touch me when there was a loud slap in the air. His hand fell back to the side.

“Don’t touch her,” Amelia said sternly, pushing me to stand behind her.

Amelia stared him down, and he returned her sentiment with a glare of his own. His gaze was so intense, if I were the recipient, I’d be burned alive.

And then everything just sort of happened, as if we were characters in a television daytime soap opera and someone had taken the remote control and pressed the fast-forward button. The mysterious man swiftly grabbed Amelia by the hip, making her lose balance, staggering forward until she landed in his arms. He quickly wound his arms around the small of her back and tugged her into his embrace. Amelia froze. He took this opportunity to snug his head into her shoulder and kissed her in the mouth, senseless, for five long seconds. I was so shocked by this whole event, I didn’t even realize I was in a trance until he spoke my name.

“Hello, Jenny.” I snapped out of my trance, the mysterious man eyeing me over my sister’s shoulder with a sly smile, a sly one that made my stomach coil in dread. With soft words, he said, “My name is Lorenzo. Nikolas Lorenzo. Welcome to the family.”