11. Predictability of Youth
I watched Rosie as she headed off to the rest room. Wondering if I was right. I was pretty sure she was going to run, especially after what happened earlier. She needed to get the idea of running out of her system. The only way to do that was to let her run, then discover the consequences after she was picked up.
I poured my self another glass of wine, savouring the taste. I would make sure to give Luigi a generous tip, even though he would insist that the meal was on the house. I made sure that I looked after those that were loyal, and Luigi was.
It had been about ten minutes when my cellphone buzzed. I looked down to see and incoming call from Christian.
I immediately accepted the call.
“She’s on the move,” Christian’s voice came through the phone.
I chuckled, that little necklace was worth its weight in gold, and she had no idea.
“You owe me a drink then.”
I could visualise Christian rolling his eyes.
“I thought she might be a bit more sensible than that,” he scoffed.
“The predictability of youth, Christian,” I countered.
I took another sip of the wine. It was really good.
“What are you going to do?” Christian asked.
I laughed, “I’m going to finish this rather lovely bottle of wine, you on the other hand need to keep your eyes on my prize.”
I heard him sigh.
“Ok, what do you want me to do?” he groaned.
“Follow her, but keep your distance. She can’t get far she has no money. Let her think she’s escaped me, then pick her up just before it gets dark.”
“And then what?” Christian asked.
“Take her back to the villa and lock her in one of the cells in the basement. Let her sweat a little before I come and get her,” I hesitated, “oh and Christian, no one is to harm a hair on her head, you understand?”
“Understood, Vincent,” Christian replied.
I ended the call.
It had been almost twenty minutes since Rosie and gone to the restroom. The bottle of wine was almost gone. I glanced across the restaurant to see Luigi heading in my direction. He looked more than a little flustered.
“Signor Marchesi, your companion hasn’t returned from the rest room, should I check to see if she is alright?”
I stood up and chucked several notes on the table. More than enough to cover our meal.
“Don’t worry Luigi, I believe if you check the restroom you will find she has already departed. As must I. It has, as per usual, been a pleasure.”
Luigi smiled. He’d already glanced at the money on the table.
“The pleasure was ours, Signor Marchesi.”
I chuckled inwardly as I headed towards the door. I wondered if his pleasure would have been so intense if he hadn’t received such a substantial tip.
I climbed into the Ferrari, and manoeuvred it out of the narrow streets. Ten minutes later I was back on the open road. I floored the accelerator. I needed to get back to the Villa before my kitten was brought back, just in case there were any complications. I also needed to get in contact with Moretti, the lawyer. I needed him to do another little job, just to make sure my little kitten didn’t try and run again.
As I approached the gates to the villa, I slowed a little. It wouldn’t have been the first time I had almost crashed through the gates when I hadn’t allowed the sensor time to react.
Once the gates were open, I accelerated. Slamming on the brakes when I reached the front of the villa.
I chucked the keys to one of my men.
“I won’t need it anymore today, Gio,” I smirked.
He caught the keys in one hand, and nodded.
The only chance he would get to drive a car like that was when he drove it back to the garage. I could tell by the look on his face it made his day.
I received a few glances in my direction when I walked through the door alone.
I’d left with a pretty young hostage, and returned alone. I knew exactly what they were thinking. Let them think it. It didn’t do my bad mafia boss image any harm. Not that they needed reminding who I was.
I headed straight to my office. One of these nights, I would go to bed with my arms wrapped around my little kitten, but tonight was not that night.
As soon as I was in my office I picked up the phone and dialled Philip Moretti’s number.
After two rings, he picked up.
“I hope I didn’t wake you, Mr Moretti?” I asked.
“No, No, not at all. How can I help Don Marchesi?”
I chuckled to myself, even though I was thousands of miles away the shrewish little man was scared stiff. The hand of the Italian mafia had a long reach.
“I need you to pay another visit to Mr Ryan. Then I need you to pay a visit to Judge Mason.
I need you to arrange for Rosie Ryan to become my ward. I will be her legal guardian until she reaches the age of twenty one.”
I heard Moretti cough at the other end of the line.
“The judge shouldn’t be a problem, but Mr Ryan...” Moretti blurted.
I rolled my eyes, “Mr Ryan will do as he is told, Mr Moretti. Remind him who has his daughter!”
I put the phone down. I wasn’t in the mood for problems, just solutions.
I walked over to the mini bar and poured my self a large glass of scotch.
Now it was just a waiting game. I felt a distinct lack of control, which I hated. Getting my kitten back was now in Christian’s hands. He just better not fuck it up.