Kidnapped By The Italian Mafia

"So this is Paris?" The train slowed down as we rolled into the polis of what was the city of love. "It's smaller than I expected."

"Everything in France is smaller than expected," Moira grumbled. "Except the mansions."

"The highborn mansions, you mean," I had seen the modern houses of the rich and they were small too. "I am excited to try the cafe's here."

"Forget that, there's a bakery here that can literally take all of my money." Moira was very passionate about baked goods the same way I was very passionate about caffeine. "Their macarons and Victoria sponge cake are to. Die. For."

"Victoria sponge cake, you say?" I perked up. In my opinion there was nothing more perfect than a nice, thick slice of Victoria sponge cake and piping hot coffee.

"My reaction exactly." Moira, as an Englishwoman with a sweet tooth, had spent countless hours in and out of bakeries trying to find the ones with the perfect treats. The fact that she found one with how picky her palette is was a wonder to me.

"Then that's where we're going first." Taking a train to a city in the northwestern region of France was probably not the fastest way to travel, but it was scenic and I had never taken a train anywhere before. There was also the matter that Henri assured me that train travel was more difficult to track.

"I see Connor," Moira mentioned before rushing to shove things back into her bag. I had warned her not to unpack her things but she didn't listen. "And Henri's with him."

The two of them had travelled together ahead of us to prepare things for our arrival. Or so they said. Henri took Nazareth with them to help him secure appropriate lodgings, according to him. Since Moira was Moira, Henri thought it would be safe to leave me alone with her. 'If things went south, she could protect me,' was what he said. Poppyc.o.c.k. Moira didn't need to protect me.

"I hope he has my new fingerprints," I looked down at my hands. "The last thing I need is to be hours away from Saint-Étienne without a proper ID situation."

"Yes, especially with your mission," Moira said conspicuously. "I'll help you as much as I can. Every step of the way."

"Thanks, M." I could always count on her when I needed. Even though I absolutely refused to put her in danger, she still insisted to stick by me. I had to figure out a move so I could send her back to the UK unharmed.

The train rolled to a stop and we exited our first class cubicles, making sure we didn't bump into anyone in the process of disembarking the contraption. I had never been a big fan of train travel, and this time was no different, but I had to admit that the view of the French mountains as we rolled through the countryside more than made up for it.

"Madame," Henri nodded at me once I was standing in front of him. "I trust you had a safe trip."

"If by safe you mean uneventful, yes, most certainly." I had to resist rolling my eyes at him and simply looked around waiting for my name to be called.

"We have rented a townhouse for the duration of our stay here. It is fully furnished and also for sale." Henri informed me dutifully, as butlers did. Goodness, I needed to stop being so bitchy.

"Thank you for your effort. Where is Nazareth?" She wasn't with them, which meant one of two things. She was either here and doing something else, or she was at the townhouse.

"At home preparing a meal." Connor was the one who answered me. I suspected that the two of them had something to do with each other now, but either way I didn't care.

"Good, I'm starving. Oh, but first, Moira mentioned a place with stunning Victoria sponge c—"

"Isabella VanBurren!"

"Oh!" I raised a hand and went forward to reclaim my enormous suitcase. "Merci boucoup."

"Bonne soirée, mademoiselle." The attendant tipped his hat as he wished me a good evening, and I smiled before turning back to my group, very much ready to go.

"So we're going to that establishment first and then we can go home." I continued my previous statement without missing a beat, then I realised how entitled I sounded. "Unless of course any of you wants something different? If there's a problem with that, don't hesitate to tell me."

"There is a problem with that."

"What is the problem, Henri?" I handed him my suitcase and allowed him to lead us out of the train station. My stomach rumbled.

"The bakery you speak of is closed today."

"What?" I turned to stare at him. "But it's only Tuesday!" What business in its right mind closed on a Tuesday?

"Yes madame, but this bakery is within walking distance of the townhouse so you may visit whenever you wish, as long as it's not on a Tuesday." He paused. "Or a Sunday."

I sighed and just followed along silently, accepting that I wouldn't be eating Victoria sponge cake today. It was a bummer, but I wouldn't be petulant about it. There were other bakeries around, I was sure. Maybe even within walking distance.

"I was able to get in contact with some of my people," Connor let me know as we settled into the car. "We're going to a black market auction on Thursday."

"That means we only have the rest of today and tomorrow to come up with a game plan." Henri was behind the wheel, but he still looked at me in the rearview mirror as he said this. Dear lord, watching this man drive was a feast to the eyes.

"Then we must have our bases covered," I decided. Henri and Connor would come with me to the first auction, and I would be like a silent surveyor. The last thing I wanted was for Isabella VanBurren to be caught up in the underworld because I had worked hard to have this safe disguise. I needed to play my cards right and reveal my true identity only to trustworthy people.

"I have some options we can discuss but I would prefer you see them in person at home," Henri let me know.

"That's great and all but I'm starving so food first, dear butler."