Kidnapped By The Italian Mafia

We reached the bar and I allowed them to place their drink orders before me, because that is what a polite host is supposed to do. All their orders were either completely non alcoholic of lightly so, whereas mine was definitely not.

"Sidecar, please."

It was completely not a good idea to drink something strong in the presence of my worst enemy but who could judge? I had a knot in my stomach the size of the Republic of Congo and a lump in my throat like a boulder. I needed liquid courage immediately.

"A little early for a side car, don't you think?" Marco asked me, looking all contrite and benevolent.

I wanted to stab the son of a bitch.

"Time is of irrelevance in my club." I smiled sweetly at him. "Until eight pm rolls around, that is."

"Is that when you open?" Lina wondered, quickly biting her tongue when Marco dug his fingers into her wrist a little too hard. I openly stared at the interaction, prompting him to let go of her hand.

Yeah that's right, you coward.

"Technically we're open all day long, but oui, that is when we begin to officiate business."

We sat in silence for a bit, me wondering what the hell Marco was going to ask me about… well… me. Should I ask? Did I even want to open the introduction to the conversation?

"Umm…" Marco cleared his throat, seemingly unsure of himself. I knew better than that though. The glint in his eye told me everything I needed to know about his coy act. He wanted to earn my trust. "What I am about to say may seem incredibly forward, but, I was a dear friend of Katarina and her death has left me dissatisfied."

"Really?" The bartender placed my drink on the wood top beside me, and I thanked him, taking the glass and almost knocking it all back in one gulp. I wanted to, but gods knew the effect that would produce so I resisted. "She did not mention you."

Marco blinked at me smoothly and smiled. "We had a more intimate friendship." He thanked the bartender for his beer. "With the history of our family rivalry we wanted to keep things quiet. I'm sure you understand."

No the f.u.c.k I do not.

"Oh, like Romeo and Juliet." I laughed daintily and sipped my drink again because that was the only thing that came to my mind to do in that moment. Just what the hell was going on? "I understand the trope of enemies slash secret lovers. I am française, after all. The only thing that is amiss here is that you are still alive!"

Marco choked on his beer and stared at me with wide eyes. "Excuse me?!"

"Oh you know. Enemies to lovers who die in each others arms." I giggled dreamily before drifting off into a heavy sigh. "Except she did not die in your arms, did she?"

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat, obviously not expecting this conversation to take such a turn so early on. "I would not say we were lovers."

"Oh? Enemies with benefits, then?" I raised a sharp eyebrow at him. "Oui, Katarina would go for such an unconventional method of relief."

Just what the hell was I saying about myself?!!!

Lina snickered when Marco choked on his beer yet again. I smirked at them both. "Your secret is safe with me."

"How much did you know about Katarina, Miss VanBurren?" He wanted to change the subject. Perfect, I succeeded in fl.u.s.tering him!

"Only as much as she revealed to me." Slipping into Isabella mode around him was starting to become easier. "She was a woman who treasured her secrets."

Marco squinted at me, suspicious. "Yes. Yes she was." He took a swig of beer. "Are you a woman who treasures secrets, miss VanBurren?"

"Every smart woman treasures her secrets." We smiled at each other. "For instance I would wager that the miss here knows more about you than you know about her."

"I know everything about her," Marco dispelled quickly, arrogantly. Lina sipped her drink to prevent herself from smirking.

"Just as I know everything about you, monsieur."

"We just met."

"That means nothing. I know much about your life just by the way you dress, although I do not need to see your style to gather that you have the tendency to be a pompous, misogynistic prick." I took a passive aggressive sip of my drink.

"That seems to be a very biased observation, Miss VanBurren," he looked me up from my hair, to my almond toe designer stilettos. "Are you sure Katarina has not mentioned me?"

"Would she have a reason to mention you in such low esteem?" I raised an eyebrow as much as my botoxed forehead allowed me to. Marco faltered for a second, and I took that mere hesitation to sneak in another question. "Monsieur DiBiancci, did you see mademoiselle Katarina before she died?"

"Why do you ask me that?"

"You are an unsatisfied lover looking for closure. What a magnifique turn of events!" I clapped my hands with a bright smile, choosing to change the subject abruptly. "I spoke to her quite recently, actually," He leaned forward. "She came to me in a dream." He leaned right back, dejected. Lina was biting her inner cheeks.

"Oh." He sighed and looked down at the ground.

"Aww." I placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "Fret not, you will have your closure. Ask me anything else, I will try to help you as much as I can."

"Did she mention anything of importance before she disappeared?" What the hell was that question even supposed to mean? "I mean did she mention any hideouts, retreats or anything of the like?"

"Hmm… I do not think so… although, she did mention something in Portugal…" I looked between the two of them, holding back a smile when Lina's eyes widened just a fraction. She stared into my face, puzzled, whereas Marco was looking at me with surprise. "Although I'm not sure where exactly."

"Portugal? Interesting." Marco nodded, like he thought I was a f.u.c.k.i.n.g idiot and couldn't catch on to what he was doing.

"Why are you trying to find her?"

We blinked at each other for a couple of moments and it was the most awkward interaction I have ever had in my entire life.

"Excuse me? I don't quite know wha—"

"These are questions someone asks when someone else goes missing. Mademoiselle Katarina is dead, not missing." He raised a suspicious eyebrow at me yet again. He seemed to be doing that a lot, almost like he was trying to communicate something with his eyes. "Unless she is not dead."

"What are you getting at, Miss VanBurren?"

"Do you know what happened to her?"

"No."

"Then why keep pushing it?" I took a delicate sip. "I have read many romance novels, monsieur, you can be certain that I know when lovers plan an illegal ruse."

"An illegal ru—" he sighed, as if trying to gather himself. "I simply wish to find answers."

"The authorities have already released details of their investigation. This case is cold and dead, just like mademoiselle Katarina, bless her soul." I crossed myself like a devout catholic, an act I only brought out when it convenienced me.

"There was hardly an investigation to begin with." He chuckled darkly, taking a swig of his beer.

"Then you should thank your lucky stars, Monsieur DiBiancci."

"Excuse me?"

"With the questions you are asking, any detective in their right mind would suspect what I am suspecting. I hear you were in prison recently. Would the situations correlate?" He blinked at me as I leaned forward, taking him in with interest. He was thinner than he was when I last saw him, but I just chucked it up to the stress that I had rightfully put him under. "You are tense. Anxious. Would you like me to order you another beer?" I signalled for the bartender.

Marco glared at me, clenching and releasing his fist under the top of thr bar. He probably thought I couldn't see, but I knew it from the way his arm muscle flexed. I looked at it then back at his face, letting him know that I was onto him.

Stupid of me, of course. Isabella wasn't that bright.

"Thank you for answering my questions. I'll be in touch." He put down his beer and stood up, grabbing Lina's hand and pulling her out of the club while I just sat there and sipped my sidecar slowly.

"Holy shit, that just happened. That. Just. Happened. Holy shit." I gulped down the last of my drink and placed the glass down on the coaster. "Two shots of tequila."

"Coming right up, boss."