Kidnapped By The Italian Mafia

"So Katarina, what did you want to talk to me about?"

The sound of liquor sloshing in a rocks glass with ice was very welcome to me at the moment. Maybe it was the stress of being a boss or maybe it was the building s.e.x.u.a.l tension between me and the spy that Marco had following me around who I had to pretend didn't exist, but I felt the need to drink consistently bugging me.

"Italy." I held a hand out for the glass gratefully, taking in the sweet scent of Irish whiskey sticking to the back of my throat. "Flawless."

"Italy? What about Italy?" Francesca raised a pristine eyebrow while she sipped her whiskey. I could see her eyes scanning my face repeatedly, probably freaked out by the major changes in them.

"They have a good investment market. I think you should sponsor a business or two." A little smile went her way, which she responded to with a flat look. "You could even sponsor politicians."

"There it is, I knew you were up to something." She smirked at me. "What do you need?"

"A woman named Lina Bottiano went missing a while back. I need her to be found."

"Do you know where she is?"

"Here. In England." I took a dainty sip of the liquid in my glass and repressed a contented sigh. This was such good product, I would have to buy myself a bottle or two of Irish whiskey.

"What do you want me to search for, then? You can find her yourself if she's in the country."

"I can't do that, not this time. She's being held hostage by someone I know."

"And you don't want them to know of your involvement, right? You think Salvador could trace you like that?" I nodded. "What does this have to do with Italy, then?"

"There is a man in Italy. A politician. He works for me." She furrowed her eyebrows just slightly as she looked at me. "And he's going to help you find her."

"How do you know that? He might not."

"He will, just trust me. In exchange, he will expect a sponsorship when he runs for office. If you sponsor his campaign, I'll pay however much you want to get the job done as quickly as possible and with the utmost discretion."

"You mean, to make sure your father never finds out." Francesca stated plainly, taking another sip of her drink. "Do you want her to know you're behind it?"

"No. As far as she will know of her rescue, it's up to the Italian government. I have contacts there now, the politician knows them all. He'll allow you to get the job done uninterrupted."

"Who is this woman?" She inquired seriously. "Is she a lover of yours?"

"What makes you think she's a lover?" Did everyone just assume I was this promiscuous?

"Katarina, you seem to forget that I changed your diapers. I know you." she sighed deeply. "And I also know that you're going through a lot of trouble to get her back, especially if you're hiring me. You know I don't come cheap."

"Yes, I'm very much aware. Just find her as soon as you can." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and tell her to mind her own business. "She's special to me either way."

"Do you love her?"

"That's a ridiculous question, you know I don't believe in love." This time I really did roll my eyes at her and her ridiculousness.

"Fine." Francesca reached down for her purse and pulled out a folder. "Here. What you asked me for."

"Is all of it here?" I took the file from her and flipped through its contents, taking the time to read each and every headline with the utmost reverence.

"Everything I could find, and I was pretty thorough. Most of the information is about the DiBiancci patriarch, there's very little about the mother." Francesca kept a beat of silence before continuing. "They're the ones who kidnapped you, weren't they?"

"Who said I was kidnapped?" It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at her. "Maybe I ran away with my lover."

"My brother gave you everything. You would never run away." She deadpanned with little to no tact. "Tienes que decirle." She urged me to tell my father with a sincere look on her face.

"No tengo que decirle nada. Soy una mujer echa y derecha." With as much respect for my aunt as possible, I stood my ground and insisted that as a grown woman, I didn't have to tell my father anything.

"You owe him that, Katarina. He has been near death looking for you."

"As far as he knows, I am dead."

"He knows you are not dead."

"I told him not to come searching for me."

"Before you were supposedly dead." What? "He told me you called him. He asked me to look for you. When I couldn't find you, I lost hope but he didn't. Tell him."

"Francesca," I sighed deeply. "I'm going to make a comeback. Not as this, but as me. Myself. I'm going to come back as the queen of Europe. I cannot in my right mind become the queen of Europe with my dad handing me everything on a silver platter."

"And you need my help. I got it, I won't say anything." She sipped her liquor and looked at me again. I tried to ignore it as I kept going through the folder she gave me, but it was clear that she was looking at my face. "So Is it cosmetic surgery?"

"If you'd call it that." Moira had asked me that multiple times since we'd reunited. "Why, does it freak you out?"

"A little. Is it reversible?" Francesca looked like she wanted to stand up and poke at my face, and I would let her if it meant not having to answer any more questions.

"My face hasn't changed and yes, tia, this is reversible."