Kidnapped By The Italian Mafia

The next morning I was up around six am doing yoga on the balcony of my room, overlooking the maze and rose garden in the centre of it. Since I had fallen asleep relatively early last night, my body felt invigorated enough to have me up just as the sky turned a muted blue, signifying dawn was breaking. My yoga sessions usually took an hour and a half, which, by my standards, was a pretty good workout routine. It kept me flexible and toned.

As the sun came up slowly over the horizon, I switched from my leisure stretches to sun salutations, making sure to take an extra deep stretch from my h.i.p.s. The whole being tortured thing and then the whole driving for twenty four hours thing had made me stiff, and the way my muscles ached when I did my poses confirmed the theory that being captive had put a cap on my nimbleness.

"Madame," Henri knocked on the doors of my room and I ignored him, taking in a deep breath and listening to the birds chirp in greeting of a new day. "Madame, I hope you're awake. I've come to tell you that the doctor will be arriving early due to an unforeseen situation he must attend to at ten. He will be here in an hour."

The clock beside my bed said seven forty. He would be here at nine. "That's fine, thank you, Henri."

I heard his shoes tap at the marble floor of the hall as he walked away. Another deep breath made its way into my lungs and I smiled in content. Disbelief at the fact that I was really here, in my home, enjoying my day.

When the last pose was finished, I stood up and gathered my yoga mat to head inside and shower. The hot water really did wonders for my skin. The leftover ache from my past trials and tribulations began to melt away almost immediately and a sigh of contentment overtook. Really I was beginning to think there would be no place on earth I loved more than this chateau. It was like my personal Versailles.

Considering I tended to have a long after shower routine, I finished up and stepped out, immediately grabbing my bottle of moisturiser and applying it to my soaking wet skin. I loved moisturising while wet because it made my skin feel more nourished than if I dried first. It wasn't something I did often, but when I did, my body thanked me.

After spending more time than I should have basically indulging my high maintenance, I skipped into the closet to choose what to wear. Considering the last few days had been full of constricting clothing, tight spaces and zero energy, I picked out something light and airy to get me through the doctor's visit. A bohemian batwing dress seemed like the perfect thing to get me going. Seeing as I had a salon appointment to get something done to my hair after the doctor left, I took this as an opportunity to eat something.

"Henri," the butler turned to me and bowed as I entered the dining room, taking a moment to scrutinise my outfit. I wasn't wearing anything except tiny u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r beneath the dress, which left me self conscious for a hot minute until I remembered that bearing my b.a.r.e b.r.e.a.s.ts to the world was literally my modus operandi. Bras were my enemy. Most of the time. How shameless of me. "Do you know of a place where I can dump that god awful van out front? I kind of stole it from Austrians and I don't want it to be tracked. I'm pretty sure it has a tracker. Oh lord, I'm an idiot, bringing that car here… jeez louise, Katarina, great going." My hand came up to smack my forehead.

"Madame," Henri was looking at me with a smile and my heart did a little flip. This crush I had on my butler was ridiculous. "I've already taken care of the vehicle and you can rest assured, there was no tracker anywhere."

"Oh…" he placed a plate of sliced pears on the table in front of me, mentioning for me to sit down. "Thank you."

"It's a privilege, madame," he bowed low and went on his way, leaving me to a simple breakfast of bread and fruit preserves with fresh fruit salad and some cheeses. The bread toppings on the table were expansive as well, fitting in with the basket of bagels that was served before me. I took a simple poppy seed ring and was pleasantly surprised to find it toasted and buttered, just how I liked it.

Jesus, that man really paid attention. I mentioned how I liked my morning bagels one time a few years prior and he still remembered it. "Note to self, give Henri a raise," I slathered cream cheese on my bagel and bit into it, catching sight of the gardner who waved happily at me before continuing his route towards the maze. His wheelbarrow was full of little buckets and soil sacks, which I could assume were to plant more flowers. "Give him a raise too."

The morning was pleasant and quiet, which was a blessing after the last month or so that I'd spent with Marco. There was always some type of noise in that house. Even in my room, the timely beep of the little wall keypad was beginning to drive me crazy. Speaking of which, I had to ask Henri if he knew about it.

I was finishing up my cup of juice when my butler entered again, bowing before informing me that the doctor had arrived. With a nod, I gulped down my juice and stood to follow him into the foyer where Dr. Laverne was waiting for me with his medical bag. Henri quickly bowed and dismissed himself. "Docteur Laverne, comment allez-vous?" My hand reached out to shake his, and the doctor smiled, returning my shake. My French pronunciation wasn't one hundred percent perfect, but I was still fluent enough to ask how he was doing.

"Mademoiselle VanBurren, je suis spectaculaire et tu es magnifique!" My cheeks blushed bashfully and I waved a dismissive hand at him. When a plastic surgeon said I looked beautiful, it was either fabulous or a lie. I preferred going with fabulous.

"Merci beaucoup. Suivez-moi dans la parloir," with an outstretched hand, I led the way into the living room which he followed me into as per my request. Explaining what I wanted was going to be difficult, but I trusted that Henri told him to bring enough filler to reconstruct my face. "J'ai un requête… c'est dur à expliquer."

The doctor's face contorted into one of rapt fascination as soon as I told him that my request was hard to explain. I knew he was aware of who I really was, as was everyone working in the house, but the fact that he only referred to me by the VanBurren name confirmed that I could trust him. I mean, I knew that already, but it confirmed even more.

"Je veux un nouveau visage." 'I want a whole new face.'

The doctor looked at me. And I mean really looked at me. He scrutinised my hairline, my forehead, my eyes and nose, my cheekbones, my mouth, my chin and my neck. I felt like he was looking through my layers of skin. "Avec des produits de remplissage?"

It did sound crazy that I wanted a whole new face with temporary fillers, but that was the best option for me. I wasn't planning on staying dead forever and I wasn't planning on looking like what Isabella VanBurren was supposed to look like forever. Also I needed to hide in plain sight, this was the only way. The safest way.

"Oui. Je veux que ce soit temporaire," he nodded once I told him that I wanted it to be temporary. I knew he wasn't going to ask questions, so it was safe to leave it at that. The less details, the better, and he knew that.

"Bien. Avez-vous un visuel?" He asked me for a visual reference and I quickly nodded, signaling for him to wait for a moment. Hurriedly, my feet led me to the library where I kept my safe hidden in the desk. My fingers quickly input the combination and the door clicked open, allowing me access to the land doc.u.ments, credit cards, ID's and French passport I'd applied for months prior. The only ones who knew of this safe other than myself was Henri and Philipe, his assistant. They must have placed my new doc.u.ments in here when they arrived.

I pulled out a large rolled up portrait that had been taken when I first arrived in France by myself for the purpose of purchasing this place, right after my French identity was confirmed by a friend in government. I had been wearing leftover prosthetic clay from my halloween costume that year, and thankfully it came in handy for what I wanted. Complete anonymity. As soon as I entered the country, I applied for anything that could completely merge my French identity with French life. That included license and passport. Thanks to my friend in government, I was approved quicker than expected. Seeing them now made me proud of my wit.

After grabbing the picture and closing the safe, I returned to where the doctor was, already placing the syringes in a neat row. "Voilà," my hands rolled out the picture and placed it on the coffee table beside his tools for him to see. Doctor Laverne took a good look at the picture before he nodded and motioned me to sit on the sofa. As I did, my heart began pounding in my c.h.e.s.t. This was it. My reflection in the mirror above the fireplace was the last I would see of my real face in a long time.

An entire hour later, I felt no pain, but my skin felt a little bit puffy. The countless needles doctor Laverne was using had stuck in and out of my face countless times and I was starting to feel like a lump of dough at the way he was kneading my face to get the filler to sit where it needed. With the amount of filler he used, I felt like a stuffed pita pocket.

"J'ai fini," he stepped back to admire his handiwork and smiled in satisfaction with himself. I caught sight of myself in the mirror above the fireplace and smiled, completely in awe at the way my lips naturally pulled upward without seeming stiff. It looked like this had always been my face. He even managed to make new smile lines for me.

Like magic, Henri came into the room and handed me a hand mirror, which I was profoundly thankful for. Now that I could inspect my face closer, my awe was even more apparent. His botox and filler work was on point. "Docteur Laverne, vous êtes un génie!" I smiled happily and took his hands, grateful that it was no longer necessary to remain confined at home, beautiful as it was. "J'irai vous rendre visite et pour vous montrer mes respects, je vous recommanderai à des amis dans l'avenir."

He smiled once I told him that I would recommend him to my friends. What friends? No idea yet, but I promised I would do it to show my appreciation, so I would. Anyone in the underworld needed to know of him, but not until my mission was complete. If anyone like my father or Marco—heavens forbid—caught wind that he did work for mafia heiresses, he would be dead before dawn.

"Merci beaucoup," he began to gather his tools and I turned to Henri who was still standing there. It was like he already knew I was going to want to talk to him. Butlers are wizards, plain and simple.

"How do I look? Does it look natural?" Doctor Laverne even managed to make my eyes wider, which was a miracle, in my opinion. Definitely worth more than his salt.

"You look stunning, madame," Henri reached a hand out to look at his watch. "It is almost eleven, do you wish to visit the salon still?"

"Yes, I think the sooner I do something about my hair, the better," I turned towards the doctor and led him back out to the foyer, thanking him profoundly once again and promising to visit once a touch up was needed. We bid each other goodbye and he took his leave. "Alright then," I turned to head back up the stairs. "Time to get to work."