After Amnesia, I Thought My Mafia Ex-Husband Was My Boss Chapter 01
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the sharp smell of disinfectant.
A man in a black suit sat beside my bed.
He had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and eyes as cold as a snowy night.
A silver family crest shone on his cuff.
Two silent guards stood behind him.
I looked at him and spoke politely, my voice tight with nerves.
“Sir, am I supposed to be interviewing for the live-in nanny-housekeeper position?”
The man’s face went pale.
“What did you say?”
I gripped the blanket and grew even more nervous.
“I’m sorry. I was in a car accident, and I don’t remember much. I only remember being on my way to take a job with a wealthy family as their live-in nanny-housekeeper. I was supposed to cook, clean, and help take care of their child.”
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect my employer to come all the way here for the interview…”
He suddenly grabbed my hand.
I pulled away on instinct.
“Sir, please don’t touch me like that.”
His hand froze in the air.
Pain flickered in his eyes, as if my words had cut him.
…
Later, I learned that his name was Damian Moretti.
He was the Don of one of New York’s most powerful mafia families.
And I was Eliana Randall, his ex-wife.
But at that time, I remembered nothing.
Damian took me back to the Moretti estate.
It was a private estate by the Hudson River.
Dark vines crawled over the outer walls.
The main house was divided into the East Wing and the West Wing.
Underground, there was a family council room, an armory, and a private clinic.
When the car stopped at the entrance, every servant lowered their head and called me “Madam.”
I jumped and quickly waved my hands.
“You’ve got the wrong person. I’m just the new live-in nanny-housekeeper.”
Everyone’s expressions turned strange.
I threw myself into the work. Every morning, I got up at five to make breakfast. I addressed Damian as “Mr. Moretti” with careful distance, and I called the woman who often came from the East Wing “Ms. Winter.”
The way she looked at me slowly changed. At first, she looked pleased with herself. Then she started to look uneasy.
A little boy rushed over in tears and threw his arms around me.
I pushed him away awkwardly.
“Young Master Luca, I’m only the live-in nanny-housekeeper. It wouldn’t be proper for me to hug my employer’s child.”
He cried even harder.
Damian often stood by the stairs and stared at me.
I thought he was unhappy with my work, so I cleaned even harder. I even polished the silver candlesticks in the West Wing hall until they shone like mirrors.
That night, I carried a midnight snack to the study.
I heard him making a phone call inside.
“Doctor, when will she recover her memory?”
His voice was low and hoarse.
It sounded like he was holding back pain that could break loose at any second.
“I’ve had enough.”
“She used to love me so much. Now she treats me like a stranger.”
I stood outside the door, the tray trembling in my hands.
