Kidnapped By The Italian Mafia

"Henri, the damn spoon goes in this corner." I took the spoon from his hand and placed it at the corner of the box where the rest of the silverware was. "Everything here is in size! This is a tea spoon!"

"Madame, it goes here." He took the spoon from the corner and placed it in the middle of the box where another empty slot was. "In this order."

"Henri," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Everything else in here is from large to small, you are disrupting the natural order of size within this box right now."

"What are you two fighting about?" Moira sauntered into the room with her long legs on display, looking like a model, even when she wasn't trying to. Especially when she wasn't trying to.

"Henri wants to put the spoons in this order," I showed her where he had placed the spoon. "But this spoon obviously goes here." I moved it to the correct location.

"Actually, that doesn't really seem right. I liked it more the way he had it."

"Thank you," Henri sighed, earning a glare from me. "Forgive me for overstepping my boundaries madame, but I'm right."

"You're both colluding against me, is what you are. And you're both wrong." I placed my hands on my h.i.p.s and stared down at the tray of silverware. "It goes here." My pointer finger indicated the spot where I wanted the spoon to go.

"Why are we arguing about silverware?" Moira pulled out a chair to sit down on it, casually crossing her legs. "Aren't we supposed to be preparing for the arrival of our new 'guests'?"

"That's exactly what we're doing," Henri and I said in tandem. "We wish to give them a gift of good will. What better than expensive silverware?"

"Their freedom, I suppose." I crossed my arms, eyes darting towards the clock. "Speaking of, I won't be here to receive them, I have some managerial duties to take care of at the club and such with Connor. We're installing the Mockingbird Security today."

"And you're not going with?" Moira raised an eyebrow at my butler. Henri frowned, probably evaluating when in the world he let a woman twenty-something years his junior dictate his life, but I had been expressly clear.

"I am a butler, I do as my mistress says." He simply responded and returned to his butler duties of arranging the silverware. He absolutely took the little spoon from the corner and placed it where he wanted, but was going to be running late if I started arguing with him again.

"Okay, I have to go. Our guards?"

"Posted," My best friend confirmed. "And we will be watching them at all hours so you don't need to worry about a thing."

"Great, then I'll see you later." I grabbed my purse—something I never wore as Katarina— and bellowed out a goodbye to my mates. The house wasn't too far from the club, so I decided to walk there, mostly since walking also gave me the perfect excuse to stop by my favourite coffee shop as well.

The place was a little hole in the wall that I had been coming to since I first stepped foot in Manc.h.e.s.ter. The atmospheric saxophone music accompanied by the décor in warm browns and cream tones paired perfectly with the smell of coffee and freshly baked goods. It felt like I was stepping into heaven.

"Bonjour!" I greeted the barista brightly, as Isabella always did with her bubbly attitude. Sucky of me to choose an optimist as my disguise when I was obviously a pessimist. "Are you terribly busy?"

The barista smiled at me from behind the counter, all bright teeth and twinkling eyes. "Not at all, miss. Anything I can get for you?"

"Café blanc plat, medium flat white coffee, no sugar, with a cream cheese danish, s'il vous plaît." Now that I was here, maybe I should get something for Connor too. "Actually, I would like to add a large long black coffee, eight sugars, and two strawberry crème doughnuts to that order as well."

"Medium flat white, no sugar, large long black, eight sugars, a cream cheese danish and two strawberry cream doughnuts." He nodded as the order was punched in, and I started digging through my purse for my wallet. This is why Katarina hated purses. Isabella loves them, they are so convenient. "Your total is £18.47."

"Here you go," I handed him my black card. "I love your buttons!"

The barista was wearing buttons with the coffee shop's themes and slogans like 'a cup a day keeps the blues away' and 'just a pound keeps coffee ground' and 'coffee is my lifeline'.

"Thank you!" He smiled at me and handed over a white slip. "Your name will be called in a few minutes."

"Merci!" With the white slip in hand, I was free to take a seat and review my duties for the day. It was still pretty early in the morning, not even ten yet, so I had time to kill, basically. My phone was pretty inactive, no surprise there. Messages and notifications didn't usually start coming in until around midday, when people were more awake. There was, however, one notification about my shipment, the people.

They were arriving today, that wasn't news to me, so I ignored the notification and tried not to kill time by browsing on the internet, opting for checking my emails instead. Once again, nothing interesting or of weight, just regular notifications for life insurance, social media updates and so on.

I was debating texting Connor and letting him know at what time I'd be there, but frankly I didn't see the need for it so I didn't. It was highly possible that I'd be out of here in a few seconds anyway.

My device buzzed on the tabletop beside my hand and the screen lit up, showcasing a text from Moira.

> Are you at the club yet?

< No, why??

I tapped my finger nails on the glass backing of the phone and waited for the next text to come in. What could she possibly be texting me for? It had only been roughly fifteen minutes since I left the house.

> I wanted to check in with you because Henri insisted.

I rolled my eyes because of course he did. The man didn't want to let me out of his sight and whenever he did, he insisted I wasn't being safe enough, paranoid as he was.

Although technically I couldn't judge, that was what I hired him to do. Maybe I was being too hard on him.

< Tell him I'm fine and that he can text me himself.

< I'll send you an update every two hours.

> Make it an hour and I won't reply, madame.

< Deal.

"Isabella V!"

Excited that my order was finally ready, I stood up to go fetch it, thanking the barista profusely for making it for me.

My first sip of the coffee was like flying on the wings of a cherub. Everything seemed right with the world again, even if there was no sugar.

"Ah," I sighed with contentment. "Yummy."

The rest of the walk to the club went by in a breeze and before long I was pushing open the doors with my shoulder.

"Bonjour!" My chirpy voice bounced off the walls of the mostly empty club where dancers were rehearsing, a bartender was working on a new drink, and Connor was standing in a corner speaking on the phone.

"Good morning, Isabella." A few of the dancers greeted me in their own different ways before returning to their rehearsals.

"Hey," I whispered to him, holding out the tray with his coffee and treats. "I'm going to be upstairs."

He mouthed his thanks to me and took the tray to take a sip of the coffee. Connor liked his drinks ridiculously sweet, enough to form cavities on sight.

After taking my danish from him, I headed for the stairs towards the back of the club and made my way up, in the meantime trying not to step on any equipment that might have been strewn across the stairs.

"Good morning, monsieurs!" I greeted the construction workers that were making quick work if building the walls to the hallway.

"Good morning." The foreman stepped out from the crowd and came towards me, hard hat in hand. "We're almost ready for the program of the security system to be installed."

"Wonderful! Just let me know when you're ready and I will accompany you to where it is." Placing booby traps in the walls had been quicker than I thought. I was just lucky these guys worked for Salvador.

With my office in the back of the second floor, I had complete privacy to take a look at the economics charts and manage the workings of the club, so I sat and began to sort through the papers.

The only problem was that I had no idea what the f.u.c.k I was looking at.

"Great."