Captivated by the deadly mafia boss

Jakub

The kitchen is alive with activity as dishes are prepped and plated. Servers hurry in and out with requests then rush back out with dishes for tables.

The restaurant opening is a hit. Food critics are here and from what Nora reports, they are more than happy with their meals. Good news from the cigar bar upstairs repeats the success story of down here. It’s all going perfectly.

Exactly as Nicole wanted it to go.

And she’s not here to see it all.NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

“Here you are.” Nora finds me standing in the back of the kitchen.

“It’s busy as hell out there. I was just getting in the way.” After making the obligatory rounds with the customers, I ducked out. They don’t need me watching them over their shoulders while they taste the veal.

“The cigar room is booming. And next door is seeing an increase, too. They’re eating here then going next door to dance off the calories.” She beams with pride. And she should. Most of this is her doing. “You shouldn’t keep Nicole away, Jakub,” Nora says, reminding me of her mind-reading skills. “She deserves to see how well everything is going. And there’s been requests from several of the reporters to meet her. It looks weird that she’s not here.”

“What did you tell them?” Making her look unprofessional is the last thing I want for her. But Dominik made it clear the Kaczmareks could show up tonight. I can’t concentrate on her safety and the Kaczmareks at the same time. She’s safer at home.

Dominik enters the kitchen and heads straight for us.

“I’m sure she would have loved to be here, Nora. But she couldn’t.” I won’t go into details, and Nora is wise enough not to dive into them. She frowns but leaves me without any further comment.

“What’s going on?” I ask when Dominik approaches.

“Your phone’s not working back here?” he asks, concern pulling his brows together.

I grab my phone out of my pocket. It’s dead. “Fuck. I thought I had it charged.” The last time I used it was when I talked with Nicole. She’s angry, but she’ll get over it. We’ll talk when I get home and I’ll let her rage at me for a bit. She deserves to have her anger on this one, but in the end, she’ll forgive me. She’ll understand.

“What’s wrong?” I ask when his frown deepens. “What is it?”

“Nicole took off,” he says simply, as though he’s telling me the Bears won a game.

“What do you mean, took off?” My first instinct is to get out of this kitchen and get home.

“I mean, she left. Took the fire escape, got in a car, and left.”

I shake my head. “She wouldn’t do that.” Except she would. She meant what she said. It’s over.

“You have a tracker on her phone?” he asks me.

I laugh. “Why would I need that? She’s not Kasia or Lena. I didn’t force her into this. She wouldn’t run away from me.” It’s a stupid thought. Of course she would. She did before.

“Okay.” Dominik’s phone goes off and his brows knit together tighter as he answers it. His voice deepens as his lips pull into a thin line. “You fucking asshole-” Whoever he’s talking to cuts him off. His chest puffs out as his shoulders roll back. Whatever is happening, it’s pissing him off.

He squeezes his phone and closes his eyes. The call ends, but his face is white.

My blood runs cold.

“What is it, Dominik!” I demand.

“Nicole didn’t get in a cab. It was one of the Kaczmarek’s men.” His words hit me hard in the chest and I take a half step back. Air eludes me.

“They have her?”

Dominik nods. “Not just her.”

Nicole

There must be an icepick in my eye. What else could be causing this crippling pain in my head?

I grab my head with both my hands and try to open my eyes. There isn’t a part of me that doesn’t hurt.

In a flash, it all comes back to me. The driver. The car accident. The blinding pain.

“Fuck.” I roll to my side. Another pain shoots through my chest and when I suck in air it amplifies. I force myself to sit up. I’m on a concrete floor, it’s dirty and stinks of oil and old gasoline, but at least I’m still alive.

I push myself to my feet, pausing when the pain in my ribs steals my breath. First, I need to find out where I am, then I need to find a way out. The room I’m in has a single bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling. It seems to be on its last leg though, and flickers constantly.

A muted groan startles me and I freeze. My eyes finally adjust to the dim lighting and I see him in the corner of the room.

“Mr. Staszek!” Ignoring my own pain, I rush to my father-in-law huddled in the corner beneath dark blankets. I shove them away from him. They’re stained and reek of chemicals.

His hair is a tangled mess, and a dark purple bruise already takes up half his cheek.

“Are you okay?” I ask stupidly.

He nods, but when he looks at me, I see the glassy look. He’s high. Really high.

“Did they give you anything?” I ask, shoving away the last of the blankets. He’s been stripped down to his white undershirt and slacks, but I don’t care about that. I search his arms for needle marks.

“Neck,” he says in a faint voice that sounds like it’s taking all of his energy to use. “Something in my neck.”

I grab his head and tilt it to the side. A small bruise on his neck just below his earlobe. Who knows what they gave him, but more than likely it was just to knock him out.

“Are you okay otherwise?” I ask, trying to look him over for injury. He’s not a frail man and having me take care of him like this will probably bruise his ego, but it needs to be done.

“Yes, Nicole. Yes,” he says and starts coughing. He waves me away from him and I step back to give him air.

“What happened?” I ask him. There are no windows in the room, but there is a wooden door. We must be in some sort of storage room, maybe a shed?

“I was on my way to the party. We stopped for gas.” He wipes his brow. “I don’t remember anything else.”

“You don’t know who took you then?” I ask, moving to the door. It’s not thick wood. I try the handle just to be sure, but it’s locked. Maybe I can kick it down. It’s then I realize my shoes are gone and I’m barefoot.

They left me with my clothes on, but took my shoes? Maybe they think barefoot women can’t run? Idiots.

“I’m so tired,” Joseph says and his head rolls to the side, his eyes close again.

“No, stay awake.” I hurry back over to him and crouch down. I need him.

“He’s gonna be asleep for a while.” Henry’s voice wafts through the air from the door.

I spin up to my feet, nearly tripping myself in the process to find Henry standing in the doorway, a gun in his right hand and a cigarette burning in his left.

“Henry.” I have never felt so nauseated by the sight of anyone in my life. “What the hell is going on?”