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Kidnapped by the Italian Mafia

Do you ever wonder what your life will be like when you cross paths with your arch nemesis? Yes? Well buckle up, it’s a wild ride. Katarina Montenegro is what everyone would simply call spoiled. She was raised with a silver spoon in her mouth and a custom Tiffany’s diamond tiara on her head. She was referred to as The Spanish Princess by everyone who knew of her existence, and she revelled in the nickname. She was young, cunning, and powerful. There was nothing Katarina wanted that she didn’t have. On the other hand, Marco DiBiancci was known by everyone as The Emperor Lynx, due to his ability to see through deception as easily as he could breathe. Unlike Katarina, who lived a mainly pampered life, Marco was raised by a strict father who wanted him to be in the front lines of the job since he was fourteen years old. He had spent his years getting his hands dirty and washing them again. He was young, strong, and powerful. There was nothing Marco wanted that he didn’t take for himself. The common ground? They were both set to inherit their father’s thrones as King and Queen of their respective organised crime kingdoms. The problem? Marco wanted Katarina, or more importantly, he wanted what she was set to lay claim on. Even though the two had never met, Marco was determined to get his hands on her by all means necessary, and that’s how we’re here. This is how I, Katarina Montenegro, was kidnapped by the Italian mafia. [WARNING: highly foul language and mature themes]

SugaryWinter · 都市
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203 Chs

The Aftermath

The door to my cell burst open, and I looked up from my nails to see Marco standing there, face red with rage and hands clenched into fists. What had happened to make him this angry? I had a feeling I knew what this was about, but I had to make sure. "What's got you so sour?"

"Your father just caused the explosion of four of my warehouses because he has it in his mind that we took you," he threw a newspaper at my chest, which did a fantastic job of hitting me square in the chest. "You said you weren't giving him any clues!"

"I didn't! I don't know how he figured it out!" What the hell? When I told him I was in Europe, I didn't specify where because frankly I didn't know where the fuck I was anymore. How did he just assume that I would be in DiBiancci custody? "I swear I don't know how he figured it out. Maybe he's just bluffing to draw you out."

"EIGHT HUNDRED MILLION EUROS WORTH OF PRODUCT!" He screamed, causing me to cower back into my mattress. Hearing him so angry had my heart in my throat, and I was sure that he was going to hurt me this time. This mad really was a beast. There was no way I could fight him unless I played dirty. "YOU MADE ME LOSE A BILLION EUROS!"

Okay yeah, yikes.

"How is that my fault?! I had no idea! You've got me locked up in here for a week, it's not like I can contact anybody!" I motioned around the room wildly. "You didn't even give me any FUCKING WINDOWS!"

Honestly, the nerve of him to come in here accusing me of something that I completely and single handedly provoked but denied ever doing! He needed to learn to take my word for things! If I said I didn't do it, I didn't do it! Doesn't matter if I actually did or not!

"You— I knew giving you freedom was a bad idea!" He began to walk out, but then turned around with his eyes narrowed at me and an accusing finger pointing at my nose. "Mark my words, Katarina Montenegro. If this doesn't clear up, you will never see the light of day for the rest of your LIFE!"

The cell door slid closed behind him and I was left in the demeaning silence, breathing hard and anxiety through the roof. It was almost as if he had never been here in the first place. The recent events felt like a bad daydream.

"Well, at least my plan is working," I shrugged and settled back into bed, feeling emboldened now that he was gone. Marco was really a scary man when he was angry, and I never wanted to see or hear him yelling at me ever again. It felt like he was going to kill me!

___________

(Marco's POV)

The only things that had been left of the warehouses was ash and parts of the structures. I wasn't allowed to go see the remains in person because the police were still tightly securing the area and restlessly looking through it for any evidence that could link the contents of them to anyone in the country. I wasn't allowed to go there, but I still kept up with the events online because the news and other media could not stop talking about lt.

My father was furious when he heard what had happened, and he suggested doing the same thing to the Montenegro divisions as payback. In that case, my mother's intellect came in handy, and she convinced us not to do it. For sure the Montenegro's were expecting some kind of retaliation, and any move or break of silence from us threatened to expose the secrets of our trade. It was safe to say that nobody wanted that, so we all agreed to just stay put and let time work for itself. That much was easier said than done.

Every influential family in Italy had their name thrown out into the open for speculation, and pretty soon people began to point the finger at us. Even though it was all rhetorical and the police had no reason to search us, it still felt very intimidating, and it pissed me off. Nobody intimidated me, and they were not going to be the ones to start. My energy was spent in trying to secure the other warehouses so that the same wouldn't happen to them, but trusting my guards was becoming harder and harder.

The whole pretending to mind our business thing didn't last long, though, because pretty soon, the police explained that they had found some very compelling evidence, and that they would be conducting some more research to positively identify the source. 'Research' translated into 'we are going to conduct senseless raids until we are satisfied.'

Damn it, Katarina!