Kidnapped By The Italian Mafia

"What the f.u.c.k is this?"

My nails dug into a sealed packet of cocaine and ripped the tape, causing bits of the white brick to come back under my acrylics. The crystallised dust glittered under the dull warehouse lights.

"Sugar?" I sliced the plastic open with my nails again. "Seriously?!"

Henri coughed awkwardly behind me when I threw the brick at the person who had handed it to me, hitting him square in the face.

It was like I saw red, wherever I looked. I knew what had happened here, and I was bloody livid.

"Who THE F.U.C.K intercepted our shipment?" I squinted at the men scattered around the open plan of the warehouse, gauging each and every one of their reactions. "Well? SPEAK!"

"Uh I— Miss VanBurren, we received the shipment the way it was sent." The one beside the man who handed me the brick spoke up timidly. "I can't imagine how the sugar could possibly have gotten—"

"No you didn't. These aren't our bricks. Someone stole half our shit and one of you knows who did. I will ask again, who intercepted our shipment?"

"Miss, someone's here." Someone else came over to us and timidly pointed in the general direction of the office. My nostrils flared in annoyance.

"Who is it? I'm busy."

"I don't know, I've never seen them before, but they asked for you specifically."

"Are you referring to more than one person or using gender neutral terminology?" Who could be at the warehouse looking for me? Nobody knew of this location except me and the ones who worked here. Not even Marco knew because he had never been.

"Gender neutral."

Blowing out a puff of air, I turned to stomp off to the office, but stopped by Henri to whisper instructions first. "Find out who leaked."

"Madame, I strongly recommend accompanying you to the office. You don't know who could be in there." He whispered back, stone cold expression fixed on his face as always.

"Everyone in this building works for me, nothing's going to happen." For extra protection, I took the gun hiding in his blazer. "See, now I'm good."

Henri gave me a look like he was exasperated with me, but nodded nonetheless. "Very well, madame."

"If none of you squeak, heads are going to roll, am I understood?" I pointed at everyone in the room with the gun except for my butler. "Am I f.u.c.k.i.n.g understood?"

"Yes, Miss VanBurren!" Everyone replied in unison. Satisfied that my authority had been recognised and finally making my way to the office, I made mental note to ask Marco for more security and monitoring on the cargo by sea.

"The club I understand, but this warehouse is in the middle of nowhere." I rolled my eyes right as I pushed the door open. Claudette was sitting in the office, all leggy in her miniskirt and reapplying a red plum lipstick. "How'd you find this place?"

"I followed you, of course." She capped her lipstick tube and slid it smoothly back into her fanny pack. How a woman could wear a fanny pack and pull it off, I had no idea. I was beautiful, but Claudette was on another level. "Comment vas-tu, mon amie? Kiss kiss."

"Ça va pas bien. Roughly two tons of cocaine was stolen and replaced with mixed product of a much lower quality." I paused to complete the traditional greeting of air kisses. "And now I have to complete an investigation."

"Pourquoi? Two tons is hardly anything to lose your head over." Claudette followed my lead and sat down on one of the guest chairs. "I know you move more than twelve tons in one go."

"It's the principle. We've barely started and we're already being stolen from. I hate losing even a single drop of product."

"Maybe it's someone who knows Marco."

"Already thought of that, I think I know who it is." I smirked at her and drummed my fingernails on the table. "Why are you here?"

"I have news about your assassination." Claudette suddenly looked dead serious. "You are being watched."

"Of course I'm being watched, I'm Ka— oh. Right. What else?"

"I found this in your office." She placed a small black plastic disk on the desk. "And this in your apartment." She placed another black disk on the table, this one bigger than the first one.

Plucking one up from the table with my fingernails, I examined it under the table lamp, squinting at the little red plastic details that became visible under a brighter bulb. "Bugs."

"They're scanning devices. Modern, but the security isn't great. I can send them to The Agency and get them reviewed if you want."

"Just what exactly do they scan?" I narrowed my eyes at the device between my fingernails. The little wires protruding from the body made it look like a spider. It didn't look like a scanning device.

"One of these strategically placed can scan the layout of your entire house, making it easy to blueprint and find a point of entry. High profile burglars use them." Claudette pursed her lips. "We use them too."

"Your agency?" She nodded. "What do you do? As a secret agent?"

"I cannot disclose that information, mon amie."

"Fine, don't tell me." I rolled my eyes. "Party pooper."

"Do you want us to take a look at it?"

"Yes. Here." I dropped the thing into Claudette's awaiting hand and dusted my hands off on the skirt of the dress. "Find out what you can and let me know."

"Très bon." Claudette picked up the remaining piece on the table and placed it into her fanny pack.

"Is that all?" I leaned back in the chair and stared at her, knowing damn well she could've waited until I got back to the city to tell me this. "What else do you have?"

"The rat for your swapped shipment is working for the person trying to kill you. I don't know who is behind it yet but the rat is your import manager. I suggest you deal with this carefully, mon belle." Claudette poked at her cheek with her tongue for a moment. "Whoever is trying to kill you knows who you are."

"What th— how many people know who I am?! This disguise is fool proof!" I'd even gone as far as the faux fingerprints, dammit! "I'll see what I can find out from him."

"Be careful. I came here to kill him for you but saw something like a detonator in his hands. I searched the place and there aren't any explosives present but I'm still advising you don't shelf the idea that there's one here."

Knowing now that my life was in immediate danger without a third wall to intervene, I knew what I had to do urgently.

"Thank you for warning me." We both stood up and met halfway to exchange air kisses again. "Be careful on your way back."

"I'm not the one who needs to be careful." She gave me a look, and then she was gone. Immediately, I turned back to the desk and picked up my phone to dial my aunt.

"Katarina, what is it?"

"I know you're busy, but I need another favour." Without thinking, my thumbnail made its way between my teeth. "It's big."

"Bigger than manipulating elections in a country you don't even reside in?" Francesca sighed and I heart shifting from her end. She spoke softly to someone and then she was back on the line. "Que ha pasado?"

"Someone is trying to kill me." She sighed again. "I need your help trying to find them. How quickly can you get your hands on Marco's parents?"

"You're aiming for the parents now? What happened to the girl you wanted me to find for you?"

"It's been six months, she's either dead or in a cellar." I knew Lina wasn't dead, but I'd lay off for now and have someone else look for her while I sent Francesca on this other mission. "Keep the main goal but I need you to send a message to Vincente."

"I'm listening."

"Tell him if he knows what's good for his lineage, he'll convince his son to leave Katarina Montenegro alone." I'd noticed that Marco had withdrawn his search party from Portugal. This worried me. He wasn't searching for me at all anymore. "And sign it as Alfonso Quidiaro."

"Got it. I'll let you know when it's done."

A deep sigh left me as I hung up the phone, and something akin to exhaustion settled on my shoulders. If this plan didn't work, I didn't know what else to do. It had to work.

"Holy v.i.r.g.i.n, I don't pray to you often but I'm going to need you to put in a good word with your son." I crossed myself for extra luck and ran a hand through my hair. It would soon be time to return to France.