The Suspicion (pt. 2)

I was peeking over the side of Marco's arm at the documents inside the Manila folder in his hands. It wasn't really clear what it was that I was looking at, but I was looking, and it was there. A bunch of posts, similar to a bank statement, was printed out and neatly arranged from newest to oldest, newest being on top, and oldest on the bottom.

The numbers I was seeing were large. Like, ridiculously large. An average payment to the DiBiancci's was two hundred thousand euros, and that was twice a month. Marco turned the page and I gasped.

"One and a half million euros? Oh wow," I looked at her and laughed. "You guys are getting scammed by the DiBiancci's," who the hell needed to pay one and a half million euros a month to whom and what the fuck for? Existing? Imagine getting scammed by the most idiotic people in the mob business? Could never be me. "Wow, you Italians are something else, truly. A million euros… Marco, that's abuse."

"That payment wasn't made to us," his jaw clenched and the way his eyes seemed to sharpen with concentration did something dirty to my imagination. Did I smoke too much opium? This attraction is just not ideal at all. I'm tired of overreacting like a schoolgirl in the presence of a sharp jawline. "It looks like it was, but the account number is completely different. It has the same wire address though."

He memorised his family's account numbers? What a freak, I thought, Nevertheless, my laughter ceased Immediately.

"Oh," This wasn't uncommon in the Mafia world. People were doing shady business under a pretense all the time, so it wasn't all that surprisingly to see a huge sum of money named under something go somewhere else. Maybe he just put it under the label there to avoid worrying his wife. "Investments? Was your husband investing?"

"No," Lina shook her head and sniffled. "He hates the thought of it. He says the only thing more unreliable than the stock market is a promise," oh for goodness sake, I was trying to help her but she wasn't even helping herself with all this honesty!

Maybe he invested without telling her so she wouldn't ask questions? Wait… "but didn't you guys technically invest when you opened this restaurant?" What a flawed logic this man has.

"He said it was a stable way to secure our future so I didn't question it."

I stared at her with a weird look, trying to make sense of what she'd said. It didn't make sense, but it wasn't my place to make sense of things, so I just let it go. "So he's laundering."

Once again, not surprising that it was happening. What was surprising was this man's balls to be able to actively go against Marco DiBianccj and his nuttiness. I wouldn't even dare steal a dime from this man, much less launder a million euros under the pretense that it went to him.

"Apparently. There's also months of bogus transactions to us in here," so he essentially stole the money from the DiBiancci clan and rerouted it so,de here else, and since the bank statements for the DiBiancci's was computerised—assuming— then it would display whatever number, even if it was spoofed. This was bad, and whoever was the doer was about to be well-done. "Who did this money go to, Lina?"

"I promise you that I don't know," she immediately started crying again, and it was then that I noticed how her eyeliner matched the garish purple color of her lipstick. What an eyesore. "He hasn't said anything and he doesn't let me see all of his business records, only ones that are relevant to the restaurant."

"You're lying," Marco clicked the safety of his gun and I felt the need to step in. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up actually killing her, and even though it wouldn't be a big deal because she wasn't actually pregnant, it would be a bitch of a job for the crew to clean.

"Hey," my hand came onto his arm and began to pull until the gun was no longer pointing at the woman. "She really doesn't know anything."

Marco closed the folder and turned, almost knocking me on my ass on the way. "I'm going to kill your husband, so I suggest ready to re-marry."

"Has he always been like this?" My thumb was pointed in his general direction, and Lina nodded frantically, cheeks completely soaked with an abundance of tears. "Bummer. Sorry for your future loss!" I waved at her and followed my guards back out to the main area of the restaurant. Marco was waiting for us by the door, and when he finally saw me, he scowled.

"Finally. What took you so long?" His face was bitter, like he'd bitten into a lime. That's exactly how I felt whenever I was around him.

"I was delayed for like ten seconds…"

"That's too long to make me wait. Let's go," he pushed the door open and stepped out onto the side of the street. Once again, I looked around once we were outside, and saw a group of girls staring at us. Did they look like the type to help me if I asked? No, they'd call the police, which would be counterproductive because they're completely useless.

"Where are we going?" The cycle had begun all over again where I was sandwiched between the two giants in the backseat. Thank goodness I was small enough to sit between them comfortably.

"Debt collecting."

"Gee, thanks for the info," my arms crossed and I leaned back into my seat to enjoy the rest of the ride, which took literally two minutes before we were stopping in front of a structure. From what I could see, it was the entrance to a University. What in the world were we doing at a college? Did a teacher owe him money?

We got out of the car, and I kept my mouth shut the entire time we were there. I kept my mouth shut when the director of the university literally wet himself when he saw us, I kept my mouth shut when he recognised me, I kept my mouth shut when Marco drew his gun again, and I even kept my mouth shut when the director of the university was successfully gaslighted into thinking he was seeing things.

As far as everyone except the implicit parties was concerned, Katarina Montenegro was missing and nobody had even caught wind of her. My gut told me that this man was going to talk though, so after we left the headmaster's office, I revealed my worries. "He's going to talk and say he saw me. If my father gets wind that I'm in Italy, he will for sure cross paths with you."

"Why are you helping me? What's in it for you?" Marco eyed me up and down, almost like he was looking at a puzzle. "You're still my hostage, you know."

"Yes, the very same hostage who left a hickey on your neck," I gave the area decorated with my bite mark a pointed look, and his hand went up to cover it. "I have my reasons for helping you, just mind your business. Do something about him before he ruins everything."

A moment of silence settled upon us before Marco nodded to one of his soldiers, who presumably left to 'take care of it'. The message I'd sent my father was sure to deter him, but that was only while I was still considered missing. The moment someone reported a sighting of me, he'd be ramming down the gates and borders of whatever country just to storm in and rescue me and Ali couldn't have that. First of all, I still hadn't figured out that keypad device thing, and second of all, my main focus was shifted.

There was a real opportunity to grab the seat of Italy, which would open doors to the Mediterranean. If I was allowed to continue where I was, the chance would come, and I'd take it. The moment all the DiBiancci heirs were dead, the empty seat would be mine for the taking, and I was determined to have my name carved into it.

Marco didn't have to know this though. All he needed to know was that I wanted something from him, but he could never catch wind of my ambitions. I suspected that he already knew that I wanted to kill him, but he probably didn't know that my full intention was to kill his entire family.

During my times in the kitchen and around the house interacting with members, I'd been studying their weaknesses, trying to find an open angle. The more I studied, the closer I came to a solution that worked, but for that, I had to stay put.

Destroying the Italian Mafia from the outside would be harder than destroying it from the inside. I needed him to think that I was on his side.

"You don't ask a lot of questions, do you?" We were walking side-by-side towards the car, and I was asking him about his interrogation methods. From what I'd seen, Marco was more of a 'shoot now, regret it later' type. The way I'd been brought up was ask questions first, torture it out of them later. Not saying Marco's tactic didn't work, but from what I'd seen of him torturing his captives, he didn't do it because he needed answers, he just did it for fun.

Watching Marco hurt was like watching Picasso paint. He did it so methodically and passion would burst in his eyes whenever his victim started to really use their voice. The louder the person got, the more painful he made sure to make the experience. I'd been watching him in his element for a while, and I still couldn't find a valuable weakness in him. Or maybe I just wasn't looking hard enough?

Something was seriously wrong with Marco, but something was also seriously wrong with me for not freaking out and trying to run away yet.

"I don't need to ask a lot of questions when I already have all the answers I need," he answered simply, as if it were the most simple thing in the world, "I'm not about to waste my time with useless chatter."

"But you'll waste your time hurting someone?"

"That's not a waste of time, that's skill refinement," he held open the car door for me and directed his next words towards the two guards that had come back with us. "We're going to find Andreas now. You know what to do."

Considering the way the guards pat themselves, I immediately knew something wasn't right and a rain of bullets would probably go down. I could only count on my ancestors to protect me.