Chapter 9
Marco
The police are all in the bar area. Each of them has their hands behind them in their own handcuffs—that’s Van’s little quirk. He thinks restraining them with their own equipment is hilarious. They don’t look as relaxed as Lorenzo’s family. Some of them are terrified, sat on their own, heads down and trying not to make eye contact with anyone, while others are huddled in groups, trying the play the heroes by quietly plotting their escape or takeover, thinking we don’t know what they are up to.
A few of my men enter the room with plates of food for the hostages. They lay them down on the tables.
“Eat. But if I see anyone eating like animals straight from the dish, I will lock you in a cage and treat you like an animal,” one of them instructs. The hostages look at each other in disbelief.
“Are you going to uncuff us, then?”
“No,” another of my men says as he lays a bunch of metre-long canes with plastic spoons attached to the ends next to the plates. “We know how many of these there are. If any are missing when we collect them, you will each lose that amount of fingers.”
My men then leave the room, laughing. I keep watching through the one-way glass window, interested to see how it unfolds. This technique is a good way of finding out who we need to keep our eye on and possibly split from the rest of the group as well as who will be mostly likely to crack under pressure and give us information we need. As expected, voices are raised and tempers grow, but eventually one clever dick realises that they can hold the cane at their back, spoon on some food and feed someone else. My men will be watching the cameras and assessing each hostage.
Once I have made sure everything is under control, I leave.
Knowing Mia’s location, I find her in a coffee shop in town.
“Make that two,” I demand over her shoulder as she orders her coffee.
Mia doesn’t turn around to greet me, but I see her reflection in the coffee machine in front of her. She rolls her eyes with pouty lips. We make our way to the end of the queue in silence. When I try and pay for both our drinks, she bats my hand away.
It’s not until I join her at a table that she speaks to me.
“Marco, what are you doing here?”
“I’m having a coffee. What are you doing here?”
“This is getting ridiculous. You’re acting like some kind of stalker. Haven’t you got something better to do?”
“Oh, there’s definitely something better I’d rather be doing.” I lean back in my chair and give her a wink.
Mia scowls at me, but I can see she’s fighting a smile.
“You will go to dinner with me tonight.”
“No, I won’t. I am busy tonight.”
“Who with?” I demand. She better not be seeing that weasel Ross again.
Leaning back in her chair and folding her arms, she replies, “That’s none of your business.”
Feeling myself harden, I move in my seat to get more comfortable. I need to pound that attitude right out of her.
Seeing my frustration, she sighs and continues. “I have my training session with Max tonight.”
“I don’t like Max. I will do your defence training from now on.”
“Don’t be absurd. Max is one of your men, and he’s the best fighter you have.”
My blood boils, but it’s true. Out of all my men, Max is the only one who would have a chance at taking me down. That being said, the thought of him putting his hands on Mia fills me with range.
“Mia, you will do as I say. I will train you from now on.”
Mia stands, placing her hands on the table as she leans down to me. “No. I have had enough now, Marco. Stay out of my way, stay out of my bed, and stay out of my life. I am done.” And she leaves the coffee shop.
Full of rage, I throw the table on its side. The whole of the room falls silent and looks at me.
“What are you all looking at?!” I boom.
On exiting, I see her tottering down the street. Knowing my guards are watching her, I go back to my car to calm down.