Page 26 of She Found Me

“We are going to the police station,” Van informs me when he returns with his father.

“I’ll come with you,” I insist.

“No. It is next of kin and family only,” Mr. Alboni replies.

“I said I’ll come with you!” I swear on my life, one day I will kill this man. Nobody tells me what to do.

Chapter 15

Marco

At the police station, Mr. Alboni and Van go into a meeting room. I'm instructed to wait outside. I'm furious, but I need to keep calm. We have no jurisdiction in this country. However, I manage to speak to one of the officers who have been at the scene, and thankfully he is helpful. I find out where the cars have been taken, and I send one of my teams to go and gather some evidence of our own. I need to find out who was in those cars.

“I need DNA samples from both vehicles.” I end the call to my forensic team as Van returns.

Van speaks more quietly than I’ve ever heard him. “She’s gone, Marco.”

“I want to see her,” I insist.

“Unfortunately, that won’t be possible,” an officer calls from behind him.

“Come on.” Van puts his hand on my back and leads me outside towards the car. I cannot comprehend what I have just been told. Van continues, “My father’s staying to sign some forms. Mia’s body was unrecognisable when they extinguished the car. They’re taking some DNA to match what they found. Once they have a result, we will have Mia’s remains sent home.” Van doesn’t look at me when he talks. “I know you and Mia were close, Marco. But I need you to get it together and find the fuckers who did this.”

My body erupts into an almighty growl. I can’t control my emotions. I want to hammer my head into a wall until I forget. Van backs away from me while I take my frustration out on a nearby fence, kicking and punching the wooden panel until it resembles nothing but firewood. After releasing some anger, I turn to see Van, along with a few police officers, stood watching me. The police look relieved to see I’ve calmed down and there’s no need for them to intervene. When we get into our waiting car, neither I nor Van speak. I feel my heart harden more than it ever has been before. My eyes glaze. It’s like I’m wearing tinted glasses—everything I see is red. My whole future has been stolen from me. All I see now is death. My life now will consist of finding those responsible, inflicting horrendous pain, and slowly sending them to their deaths.

We spend a few days in London, watching video after video from surrounding surveillance cameras. But we come up with nothing. The first car comes at speed from much further down the road before the girls even make their way out of the bar. I have no doubt Mia was a target, but it does seem like that the car incident was the original plan. What was the original plan, however, we still have no idea. The guards are both deceased, and witnesses give no other explanation. One of the drivers from the second car got away. I have issued a million-euro reward to anyone who can bring him to me alive, so it’s only a matter of time.

When Mia’s father receives the DNA results from the car, it is confirmed as a positive match for Mia. The little hope I had for a miracle dies, so we return home.

During our time in England, Lorenzo’s forty-eight hours came to an end. Although he dropped all charges, he is still making things very difficult for us. After we released all the hostages unharmed, rumours started to spread amongst civilians that we had tortured the law enforcement. Organisations who have been allies for generations have cut ties with us, making deliveries and distribution of weapons more difficult. The Martelé, our archenemies, have also reared their ugly heads, starting to fight for our territories. Lorenzo has resigned and gone into hiding, but I will find him. I haven’t finished with that weasel yet.

As I sit at my desk, my thoughts are filled with Mia. The way she made me feel when I was around her—the way only she could make me feel: like I was human. A feeling I haven’t felt since she passed. My thoughts, as always, turn from happiness to immense anger and pain when I remember she has been taken away from me. I down the last of my scotch and throw my glass against the door, narrowly missing Van as he enters.

“Sober up. We have found the guy from the second car. He is being flown over as we speak.”

Finally. It’s been two weeks since Mia died. I am ready to inflict some pain.

Everything is set up in the basement when Van enters, dragging a terrified looking man along with him. Van throws him onto the floor in front of me. I don’t speak. I just watch as he takes in the room around him through his swollen, beaten eyes, whimpering as he sees the tools ready to inflict pain and end his life. His focus then lands on me and my bloodstained apron.

“Tie him to the chair.”

My men instantly do as I ask, fastening his arms and legs to the wooden chair.

“Two weeks ago, a Guerra woman, my woman, was murdered. You were in one of the cars responsible for her death.”

The man looks at the floor, not acknowledging me.

“Look at me!” My right fist connects with his jaw. His head jerks backwards cracking into the back of the chair. “Tell me your assignment for that night!”

The man is a little dazed from my attack but manages to mumble, “I… cant. They will kill me.”

A bark of a laugh rips through me. “And what do you think I’m going to do with you? Wrap you up in bandages and let you go? Let me explain what is going to happen. Today is the day that you will die. What time this happens and how painful your death is up to you.” I pace the room around him while I speak, noticing the gurgling sound from his chest as he breathes, a sign blood is filling his lungs, a result of the beats he’s received in transit. Unfortunately that means we don’t have as long as I’d hoped.

After selecting my first choice of torturing device, I stand over the man. He takes one look at what I am holding and pisses himself. I turn on the blowtorch and slowly move it towards his hand.

“Okay! Okay! Please. I’ll tell you all I know.”

I keep on holding the flame near his hand, and he continues quickly while trying to move from the heat.

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