The Mafia Boss Stolen Heiress

BELLA'S POV Large gnarly shadows emerge from the ground, their dark eyes and hands reaching at me. With a gasp, I clutch my fast beating heart, paranoia and fear creep up on me. Slowly, I walk gingerly through the dark hallways. The light in the distance beckoning on me. Like a moth to a flame, curiosity gets the better of me and I continue my journey. A noise in the distance stops me dead in my tracks. What was that? One hand clutches my ginger teddy tightly in my hand. Worry clouds my judgment. All of my senses are alert as I feel my way out of the dark and towards the hushed voices and that flicker of light in the distance. If mother finds me roaming the hallways after she told Martha to tuck me in bed, she will yell and scream. Maybe I should go back to bed. I hate it when my mother screams, her face gets so red, and she points her fingers in my face. Just as I am about to turn back and head back the same way I came, I hear laughter. Intrigued, clutching Mr pebbles, I continue on. One step after the other brings me closer to the door of Father's office. Light shines from the tiny crack of space beneath the door. The clinking of glass and the familiar laughter of Father fills the air. I wonder who it is in there. Pressing my ear against the door I try to hear what they are talking about. I make out two voices, the husky voice of my father and the other, I have never heard his voice before. Deep and gruff, he says something and again father laughs. Father never laughs. I am shocked at how carefree he sounds. My eyes travel to the huge portrait mounted on the wall a couple of feet away. That straight grim line passed for a smile for father, all my life I have only ever heard him laugh thrice. Again, I press my ear against the door trying to make sense of the mumbling and murmuring. My feet rise to my tiptoes to get closer, my hand clutches the handle and accidently the knob turns softly. I freeze. It barely makes a noise, but I stand still for extra measure. Or so I think because the conversation stops, there is silence. I grab Mr pebbles and turn around to make a run for it. My back turned to the door and one leg out ready to bolt, the door is suddenly thrown open and I feel a hand on my shoulder yank me back. My eyes squint to adjust to the brightness. The room is so bright I rub my eyes and slowly refocus on the person holding me. My small hands clutch me pebbles to my chest. My eyes land on amused dark, stormy eyes. Mine widens in shock and fear, but what really scares me is the thin long white jagged scar from just under his eyebrow to the top of his lower lip. I scream. DANTE'S POV What the hell? This is not what I was expecting at all. Well, I guess things are finally looking up. I was bored some minutes ago. One second, Father and his Friend are sharing an old bottle of scotch and making business plans and the next father stands up, walks over to the door and yanks it open, to all our surprise there was someone standing there, a child. A screaming girl, Father is holding a screaming girl. Immediately, I am filled with annoyance. Why is she screaming at the top of her voice for crying out loud. My eyes follow hers to find the source of her fright is father. Now, this is funny, I imagine telling mother that Father scared the crap out of a child, now that would make everyone laugh at dinner. I smirk. I admit to myself, father is a very scary man. Just ask anybody, the men outside standing guard waiting for us or just ask anyone on the streets of New York. The mention of his name sends shiver down the spines of average men. Even now, the little girl cannot help but scream fighting to get away from the devil. The amusement in my eyes mirror the ones in his eyes. He looks at me and shrugs casually, clearly enjoying the attention. "Isabelle, what are you doing up?" Dad's friend exclaims, standing up abruptly. Isabelle. The little girl is Isabelle. what a girly name. The little girl eyes follow her father's voice and she runs into his arms. "Father!" she yells clutching his arms for dear life. "Why aren't you in bed Bella? I thought Martha put you down for the night?" his hands smoothen the riot of hair out of her face. From where I am seated all I see is the wide bundles of hair. I think to myself, How can one person have so much hair like that? For a little girl? Damn how does she keep it all in one place?! "I am sorry, Father." She whispers. Barely audible but I hear it loud and clear. That tiny whisper hits me like a brick in the chest. My head whips around, I stare at the back of her head waiting for her to speak again, to say anything at all. "Come morning, I will have a word with Martha. She knows the rules, she does not leave till you are asleep in bed." The grey haired man grunts angrily. The girl just shakes her head but does not speak again, clearly still shaken. I fight the urge to chuckle. Keeping my face clear of any emotion other than mild boredom. If my eyes were lasers by now they would have burned holes into the back of her head. I turn to look at my dad, Father is watching me with a curious smile and that amused look in his eyes. He winks at me and turns back to his friend. I don't know his name, father told me but I did not think he was important enough for me to remember his name. "Why, who is this little spy?" Father gracefully takes his seat again beside me. Picking up his cigar he lights it up with a flick of his wrist, blowing in the air, he sits back. "Roberto, forgive the intrusion, she must have wandered out of bed and gotten lost. I should call the housekeeper to come get her." He makes a move to grab his phone but father waves his apology away. "Don't sweat it old friend. Children have a mind of their own. The curious little creatures." Father laughs while his friend chuckles nervously, one hand pushing the tortoise shell rimmed wired glasses further up his nose. "Please, do introduce us to the little miss." He grins. “Oh. This is my last born, her mother’s pet, Isabella Doris Costello.” He pats her back, slowly turning her around to face us. I pause in my tracks. I feel something deep down. Scared blue eyes fly from my father to me, back and forth before finally landing on me and stopping. Curious, searching and afraid. What is she looking at? I feel a little uneasy. “Hi…” she waves shyly. “Hi Isabella, can I call you Bella? You look just like your mother.” Father says. “Really?” She lights up. One hand clutching that ratty teddy bear and the other pushing her hair out of her face. “Yes, you know the first time I met your mother she just won the miss intercontinental beauty pageant, one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, I see the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Praise to heavens you look nothing like this rascal.” He nods to her father. They both laugh together. I can’t take my eyes off Isabella. Her big blue eyes watch me right back. The fear is long gone from her eyes, just plain curiosity. Bitting her bottom lip nervously she looks at me with questioning eyes. Like to ask, what are you doing here? Yeah me too, I wonder why I agreed to come here with father. Not like I have much choice in the matter. Father gives an order and you better fall in line. He does what he wants and you also do what he wants. I wish I stayed home with Alessandro and Antonio, playing on that new PlayStation setup. Now, I’m sitting here as Isabella watches me. I quirk one eyebrow, her eyes widen as her mouth falls open in shock. Scurrying back she falls into her fathers open arms and he groans. “You should be in bed Bella, you know that.” He scolds. She just nods, hugging her teddy close. “Oh we should introduce the kids to each other. Dante, meet the youngest of the Costellos.” Father announces. He is clearly enjoying the show because the mirth in his eyes only gets bigger. I frown, clearly not in the mood for the old man’s mind games.