The Mafia King's Thief

Detained For You

Elayne’s POV

I am doomed.

I do not need anybody to spell it out for me. Living this type of life has never paid, but hearing those words from other people’s mouths always fell on deaf ears. Now, look where I’ve landed. I know without a doubt that it will be extremely hard to get myself out of this one.

“Don’t let her go anywhere!” The woman yells again, and it isn’t as though I plan on going anywhere. It would be extremely foolish of me to try and run away. I’ll just end up getting killed. My life is literally over, so I might as well finalise it.

This isn't how it was supposed to go. The plan was to come to Italy, steal the ring, have a good time for a few days and then fly back to the United States. It would have been very smooth, but look at the ditch I've fallen into. I honestly do not know what to say or how to act because none of this was supposed to happen.

I don't even bother running because I know too well that these people are ready to chase me. Technically, it wasn't me who killed him, but when something like this happens in a country you're not from, one can only but hope and pray that things don't get that bad.

Raising my hand up in the air, I turn around. "Look, I'm not running." I say, and I do not know how the tears begin to fall from my eyes. Not to lie, I'm entirely shocked at this because I don't cry.

"Hold her." The woman yells again, and more people are running towards me. They must think that I'm using some sort of reverse psychology on them, but who am I? I can't be stuck in a situation like this, and people will actually think that of me. It's really crazy how it's hurting my feelings, as though these people know me so well.

A few calls are made, and it isn't hard to put two and two together to discover what is going on.

They are calling the police. Shortly, the ambulance arrives, but everyone is in such a pensive mood, and I hear a group of people talking about the young waiter who died. I really hate people. None of them was here when any of this s**t happened, but it’s always the ones who know nothing that be lying and acting as though they were there all along. This is so exhausting. I can’t deal, but sadly, I have to deal.

The police van pulls up in front of me, shortly after the body of the headless man has been taken away to be deposited in the morgue. The angry Italians and immigrants are quick to point accusing fingers at me. I look around, and I notice that the man who crushed the head of the now dead waiter has escaped. So much for justice prevailing. I wouldn’t bother trying to explain myself. I make the job of the police officers easy by just getting into the van. They seem shocked, but that look doesn’t last on their faces too long.

“Stop!” One of the officers barks at me,and I shiver, stilling in that position. He digs into his pocket and fishes out handcuffs. I’m cuffed and the driver zooms off.

On the way to the police station, my mind wanders, barely paying any attention to whatever it is that the policemen are saying because I don’t care. I wonder how Alessio must be doing now. I wonder if he’s recovered from whatever it is that was done to him.Wonder if he’ll ever remember me. Technically, we’re married, but I don’t even know if I’ll ever see the face of that man again.I think about Aida, about everything, and I break into tears.

I don’t know a lot of things about patients since I rarely visit the hospital myself, and

The police officers look at me like I’m crazy, but who are they to judge? I’m not uttering a single word about this case until I get to the police station. I would have said ‘until I get a lawyer’ , but f**k if I can afford a meal for myself.

I really can’t see where we’re headed to since we’re all seated at the back of the van. I must say, this police van has seen better days.

The van comes to a halt suddenly, and the police officers start barking certain phrases in Italian. I do not need anyone to tell me that we’ve gotten to the police station. I help myself out, and it isn’t until my feet land on the concrete floor that I yell.

“Oh my goodness, oh my goodness. Can you please stop!” I bark at them and pause, trying to find where I can at least take a seat to look at my leg because I know it is bad. I hope it’ll at least get cleaned because if it doesn’t , it might cause an infection. I know for a fact that I will not be getting the medical care that I need, but even if the surface is just wiped with some disinfectant, I think I’ll be good.

I say ‘f**k it’ to myself since I end up not finding where to sit down. I sit on the cement floor and take a look at the underside of my feet, and I shake my head. The nail really got in. This is most likely payback for every wrong thing that I did today.

I take one look at the feet, and I can barely see s**t since blood has covered the whole underside of the feet. I honestly don’t know what to say.

“Can I get water, please?” I ask, my teary eyes getting all the more teary. God, I’m so f*****g emotional today. What in the name of f**k? I better get a grip on myself and move on because with the way things are looking, nothing is getting better anytime soon.

“Chiudi quella cazzo, di donna" One of the officers barks at me. I do not know what he just said, but if I’m to guess, I’ll say maybe he insulted me or something.

Translation - Shut the f**k up, woman.

His voice makes me shut up, and while I’m trying to see what I can do to get this thing cleaned up, I get lifted off of the ground like a bag of possessions worth merely anything. I don’t have it in me to struggle because I know full well that I brought all of these upon myself.