Taken By The Mafia Lord

Marcel finally stepped out of the car and walked up to the diner restaurant in front. His people had already reserved the place to have this negotiation.

One of the soldiers guarding the entrance bowed at him and opened the door to let him in. Vintage movie posters, lunch boxes, and other tchotchkes adorned the walls, while hearty made-from-scratch dishes adorn the menu. The small town’s extra-friendly vibe and the smell of mouth-watering foods made Marcel relax a bit, assuring himself that there wouldn’t be a bloodbath tonight.

However, the peace was shattered when a sharp cry pierced the air and he looked ahead to see Adele failing miserably to calm the girl. She probably didn’t have enough experience with children knowing that she was treated like an outcast throughout her life by her own family. Moreover, all she was interested in was working hard and getting promoted.

Marcel somehow understood why she wanted to succeed badly, so she wouldn’t be looked down upon by the others. Once she had power, she would be respected. However, having power doesn’t guarantee happiness. Look at him, even in his position of power, his family was still plotting to have him removed. Hopefully, she learns to love herself first.

“What is going on here?” Marcel said and Adele turned around immediately, bowing her head.

“You’re here, boss,”

Marcel looked at the young girl. She had blonde hair with blue eyes and tears were still slipping down her cheeks as she glared at them. Marcel suspected she had somehow perceived that they weren’t good people.

Adele noticed him staring and explained to him, “She’s insisting she wants to go home to her grandmother.”

.....

As if on cue, the young girl cried out, “I don’t want to wait for her anymore, I want my grandmother. Send me to my grandmother. I want to be with grandma,”

Thankfully Adele had the situation in control else the owners of the diner would have called the police on them already for their suspicious activity.

“You should stop crying, your grandmother isn’t coming,” Marcel told the girl who peered up at him through wet lashes.

Her brows drew together as it dawned on her, “My g-grandmother isn’t coming?”

“Yes,” Marcel nodded.

And just like that, as if Marcel made the whole thing worse, the girl wailed in a louder voice and Adele looked at the both of them in concern and apprehension.

“It’s not working,” She said to him.

But Marcel gestured to her to move out of the booth and he took her place, sitting directly in front of the girl.

He faced her, “Your grandmother is not coming because your father would be here to take you.”

At once, the girl’s eyes widened and she looked at him doubtfully, “Daddy would be here?!”

“Yes,” Marcel answered her.

She frowned at him, “You’re lying. Daddy is a busy man! Don’t lie to me!” She shouted at the top of her voice, throwing a tantrum.

But Marcel was not annoyed and said to her instead in a calm and gentle tone, “Of course, your Daddy is a busy man, which is why he sent me to keep you company until he arrives.”

At that explanation, the girl stared at him suspiciously before she eventually relaxed into her seat, the tension leaving her body. She lowered her head, playing with her fingers before looking up to ask him, “When would he arrive?”

Marcel checked his watch for appearance’s sake and replied to her, “Not long now. I’m hungry, what do you want to eat?” He gave her the chance to make her choice.

And just as he thought, the girl’s eyes lit up, “You would let me choose anything I want?”

He nodded.

She squealed loudly, forgetting all about meeting her grandmother, and a smile curved Marcel’s lips yet he was heartbroken at the same time. He should be having this kind of fun with his sister, Chloe. Marcel clenched his fist, he would do everything to get her back.

They ended up ordering a lot; a homemade corned beef hash, house-roasted turkey sandwich, steak and cheese omelet, and eggs benedict with coffee Oreo milkshakes. Just like that, Marcel bought the girl’s trust with the meal.

“Do you work for my father?” She asked in the middle of the meal.

“No.”

“How do you know daddy then?”

“Acquaintances.”

“Acquaintance, how?”

“We just know each other.”

“Then you both must be friends.”

“No.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does.”

“How.”

“You can know someone without being friends.” Marcel was tired of her questions at this point. He had forgotten how inquisitive children could be.

“You shouldn’t talk while eating as well else you’d choke.” He cautioned her, hoping she would stop with the questions. But he was completely wrong.

“I don’t choke. I can talk well while eating. Grandma says that’s my superpower.” She said proudly.

“Just focus on the food please, not everyone has your superpower.” He prayed and It was answered for like two, three seconds before she began again.

“You don’t seem to like talking?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Marcel sighed, leaning back into his seat, and looked at her. He was tired of her unending questions. The girl looked back at him with her innocent doe eyes and the thought of gagging her mouth with a tape vanished immediately.

“Great men don’t talk much,” He said whatever came into his head, and gulped down the milkshake.

“You must be great then. In that case, what do you do for a living?”

And that question made Marcel’s brows raise as his countenance changed at once. However, the girl quickly added, “Do you own a company like my daddy?”

“Yes, I do.” Marcel didn’t exactly lie, he had a legitimate business but all of those were just a front to hide what he really does for a living.

“A lot of women must like you then,” The girl said, stabbing at her food idly, “I once heard my mother say she married my father because he owned a company. But then grandmother says one shouldn’t marry for money but love,” She lifted her face, looking him straight in the eyes, “So mister, be careful so you don’t marry a woman that loves only your company.”

Marcel’s throat constricted at the girl’s words and he grabbed his spoon tight. Just like him, the girl deserved a better parent. So he replied kindly, saying, “Thank you, little one. Mister would listen to your advice.”

She smiled at him and resumed eating.

But almost immediately, Marcel’s phone lit up with a message. The girl’s father was here.