Kidnapped By The Italian Mafia

"Okay but technically, I should have a gun to protect me, right?"

"For the last time, no."

"Then let me use yours!"

"No!"

"Why the hell not?"

"Because then I would be without a gun!" Marco snapped and finally turned to me, eyes ablaze and hands curled into fists. I gave him a look, silently daring him to make the wrong move because not only would he have my father to deal with, But I'd turn him inside out. He took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his pockets, turning his back to me again to walk away. "You can stay in the car if you're scared."

"I'm not scared, I just want to protect myself!" How hard was that to understand? It wasn't rocket science!

"You don't need to protect yourself because that's what those two are for," he pointed towards the two guards who were stalking behind us. "Just stay out of the way."

"What does it take to get some favors around here?" My hands flew up in an exasperated motion. What was the matter with these people?

"What are you willing to do for a favor?" Marco lowered his sunglasses and stared into my eyes. My brain made quick work of emptying out my vocabulary and replacing it with bad things. His tongue sneaked out and licked the corner of his mouth. My insides felt like they were shivering. Killing such an attractive man would be a shame, but oh well!

"Don't be a pervert," I pushed past him and continued on my way through to the building we'd arrived at. It was big, almost like an office building, but it was far away from the city. Who did Marco think he was, seducing me like that? I was the only one allowed to make dirty comments here. That was my thing. Throwing my opponent off was my gimmick and here he was trying to copy me! Disgraceful. The Italians should be ashamed.

I stopped in front of the door of the building and just stood there, partly waiting for the rest of the group to catch up, but also because I had no idea what to do beyond this point.

"Stumped?" Marco's voice was directly in my ear, and by law of nature I should've jumped and punched him in the throat, but instead, I just stood there and shivered. Like I actually shivered. And not because I wasn't wearing a top, although that would've come in handy to help hide my protrusions.

"No, I was waiting for your slow self. What do we do from here?" Admittedly, I was kind of excited to see what would happen here, which was probably showcased by the way I was almost bouncing in place. Watching how the Italians handled things would be interesting. I'd always seem my father use the method of entrapment, because he said that he preferred to be 'diplomatic'. Liar. Marco seemed more primal, if that made sense.

"We knock," he reached out and did exactly that, knocking on the door and waiting for someone to show up and answer it, or at least buzz us in. I moved to stand behind him just in case someone opened the door with a gunshot. If that happened, it would be very convenient for me because then he'd be out of the way.

We were standing there for a while, but finally someone came down to open the door, and I peeked from the side of Marco's arm to see who had opened it, because the Italian brute was just that much taller than me. "Who are you?"

Oh f.u.c.k no..

I turned around and buried my face in one of the guard's c.h.e.s.t, pulling the sides of his jacket over my face. My desperation to keep my face away from this man was making me do some questionable things. Thankfully, the guard didn't questions my actions, but it's not like I could keep myself hidden for long.

"We're here to see someone about a purchase," Marco said casually, almost like he'd practiced it. Did he practise what he was going to say? "A personal purchase."

"Who?"

"Andreas Bottiano."

"Come in," the person said, and I quickly made like I was going to run away in order to get the guards to grab onto me and drag me into the building. My plan worked perfectly, and I'd learned two things. One, Marco could see right through me, two, these guards didn't underestimate the moment I'd try to run away. From the way they grabbed me as soon as I so much as flinched, they were ready for me to make a move.

The inside of the building was very sophisticated looking, and the marble floors were next to blinding. My eyes were immediately drawn to the painting in the lobby, which had a very similar vibe to the one in the restaurant. Once again, déjà vu set in, and my eyes frantically searched for any telling detail to fully recognise the painting. Maybe it was the vibes the painting was giving off, but there was something about it that I'd seen before. This was a mystery like the keypad in the rooms back at the house.

We were led through wooden doors into something like a ballroom, and the guards finally let go of my arms to let me stand upright. The room was brightly lit by chandeliers and… for some reason there were lit candles on the walls? Was this a secret society?

"Yep," I answered my own question when we arrived at a lounge areaーfor the second time today, might I addーand there were people walking around in masks with wine glasses and peculiar looking pins. Just how many surprises would I be viewing today? It's like at every turn, life looked at me and screamed 'SURPRISE!!!' just because it could. "What the hell…" was this a freemason lodge or something?

No, the pins didn't look like it. What was it then?

"Gentlemen," a man came out of nowhere, giving me a strange look once he took a look at my attire. "Welcome to the Garden of Bathsheba," he waved a hand around and there was a proud look in his eyes. Now that someone was up close, I could take a better look at his pin and I couldn't help the little laugh that escaped me in the form of a snicker. It was a drawing of virgo the v.i.r.g.i.n. Honestly, these people couldn't even try to keep it original? If they were called the Garden of Bathsheba, they could at least make their logo a halfn.a.k.e.d woman bathing in a river or something.

"We're looking for Andreas Bottiano," Marco cut right to the chase, and it was obvious that he didn't want to spend more time here than he had to. Did he not know of this place? "Can you direct us to him?"

"He's in the auction room. Follow me," the man turned ominously, almost like he did it for dramatic effect. Everything about him was pissing me off to unimaginable levels, and I rolled my eyes as we began to follow him.

"Un-be-lievable," Marco turned his head to take a look at me, which I caught through my peripheral vision, but I was too busy looking around at the people who were conversing like they weren't wearing masquerade masks and glasses of thick red liquid in glass cups. It was obviously wine, but these loons would probably say it was blood or something just as creepy just to make themselves feel better.

Weirdos.