Kidnapping Mafia Princesses for Dummies by BikeWriter

I don’t remember which of them first caught my eye. There were two brunette girls who parked their car and walked into a store. They looked enough alike in their faces and bodies to be twins and each had that smoldering sultry look that reminded me of someone familiar. It hit me. They could easily pass for daughters or relatives of Alyssa Milano. They even had that petulant look around their mouths she had shown in some of her teen pictures. They were beautiful, and I wanted them, both of them.
There were large linesmen pliers in my glove box and I pulled them out, then looked around before opening the door of my personal taxicab. I went prone on the asphalt and crawled under the truck that was between my cab and their sports car. It took only a moment for me to cut the hot wire to their starter.
When they walked out of the store I started my engine and backed down the row of the parking lot.
I could tell now one was an inch or two taller. She walked to the driver side of their car, opened the door and I allowed them a few seconds to find out the car wouldn’t start. I pulled up behind them, pulled some gloves on, and stepped out of my cab. I approached the driver’s side and asked in an authoritative voice. “What’s the matter, having car trouble? I’ll take a look if you want?” I did a quick scan of our surroundings and no one was near us.
I found out the driver wasn’t going to make this easy for me. She slapped the lock button on her door, then told me, “That’s okay, thank you, I’ll just call my dad.”
She reached for a cell phone lying on the seat and I pulled my pistol from its shoulder holster.
“Touch that phone and I’ll blow your sister’s head off! Neither of you will cause me trouble, or I’ll kill the other. Do you understand me? Open this door, now, and don’t even think of running. This is a 900 Magnum, the bullets are heat seeking devices and one will fly up your hot little pussy and explode before you take three steps!” Did that sound impressive? It must have to them.
They both responded, “Yes sir.”
The driver got out and I holstered my pistol, then grabbed her wrist. I told the younger, “Come to me or I’ll break your sister’s pretty neck.” I held her wrist too, when she got close enough. I immediately scanned the lot again, then led my new girl friends to the big cab. I shoved them into my front seat and instructed them, “Get down in the floorboard, keep your eyes shut tight, and concentrate on being a small target. Make problems for me and I’ll shoot your sister first.” I liked that tactic. It seemed to be working well.
Driving first to a slow part of the lot I pulled a bandana out and tied it around my neck, then pulled it up to shadow my face, and pulled my hat down over my eyes. I drove to a neighboring town, and circled through it several times to disorient the girls. I then drove to my hometown at the five miles under the speed limit I’d been maintaining. I didn’t expect to ever release these two, or have them escape, but then one never knows.
They’d spent the entire ride wrapped in a tight embrace in the floorboard. I hoped they’d enjoyed the togetherness, because it was about to come to an end. I’d already seen the older was smart, and I didn’t want the two of them plotting anything. They might prove themselves smarter than me.
I took them inside and secured them in their cells, the younger one was reluctant, but her sister helped when she asked her to do as I told her. Several years before my grandfather had died leaving me his millions I’d been in the construction business. I’d remodeled a police station in a small town and kept all the old jail cells. I’d installed some of them in this house, and they were about to become the girls permanent homes.
The kitchen was my next port of call. I figured I’d eat something and drink a couple of brews to get over the anxiety, then go check out the fresh meat. I opened a can of ravioli and heated it in the microwave. Parmesan cheese sounded like a good idea, so I sprinkled some on, and shoved it back in the microwave to warm, as I hit the remote on the television set. I watched two minutes of the news, then I went to the sink and puked up the remnants of everything I’d eaten for the last two days.
No wonder I’d thought the girls resembled Alyssa Milano. I had fucking kidnapped Rosa and Sophia Palisi, Francesco ‘Big Frank’ Palisi’s two youngest daughters! They were sixteen and fourteen years old. I drew my pistol and rocked back the hammer, and put the barrel into my mouth. I’d take the easy way out. It struck me then both girls were in jail cells and would starve to death slowly if I didn’t release them before biting the bullet.
I holstered my weapon, there was no reason to traumatize the girls any further. I went to my bathroom and brushed my teeth. I could go out with some dignity, at least. Taking my keys I went first to Sophias cell, then took her to Rosa. I handed her the keys.
I told them, “I’ll take you two anywhere you want to go, or bring you a phone, then I’m taking the coward’s way out.”
Rosa said, “You found out who our Dad is? That was a cool thing to do, letting us go before offing yourself.”
“I figured I’m a dead man walking, either way.” I shrugged and told her. “There’s no reason to put you beautiful girls through more than I already have, and I’ve just learned a new respect for life. I’ll go someplace else to end mine in dignity, rather than here in front of you.” The two girls looked more like their puppy had died, than just having heard their kidnapper was about to.
“Let me think about this before you do anything rash.” Rosa said. “Do you have anything to eat? That was going to be our next stop, and I’m starving.”
“I had warmed some canned ravioli.” I told her, “Its in the microwave, but I lost my appetite when I heard who you are.”
Rosa squinted her eyes at me, then patted my cheek. “You really eat that stuff? You poor thing, no wonder you were so desperate for company and you’re talking suicide! We’re two miles north-west of Crystal City, right? They have a Sicilian place with good take out there. We can’t go with you or order it, obviously, so I’ll write down what you should order over the phone.”
She wrote down an order of food large enough for all three of us, and three bottles of wine. I found the number in the phone book and made the call. She said, “I hope you have a vehicle other than that safety yellow cab. You know, the one with flashing signs on it saying ‘Stop me, I’m a kidnapper?’”
Sophia said, “Yeah, and try not to shoot yourself in your hot little pussy with your 900 Magnum with heat seeking bullets!” Rosa laughed and gave Sophia a high ten for her slam-dunk! I slunk away quietly to go get our dinner. I was ecstatic little Sophia or Rosa hadn’t shoved that big pistol up my ass.
When I got back to my house there were no squad cars, and no Mafia cars, only two hungry girls. They dug into the food while I poured the wine. Rosa said between bites, “I think I may have figured out a way to save your ass… Uh, what is your name anyway?”
“Michael Rossini. I told her.
“Oh, good!” Rosa squealed. “We’re partway there already! How much money are you worth, Michael? I’m talking every cent, if you want to get out of this alive, believe me, Dad will check!”
“I’ll have to check too, Rosa,” I told her, “but I’d say around ten million dollars.”
“We’ll begin by offering him two million, then negotiate. There’s a story “The Ransom of Red Chief.” Have you read it? It’s a story by O. Henry. Two men kidnap and ransom a wealthy man’s son; they end up having to pay the boy’s father to take him back. Dad laughed his fat ass off when he saw the play, and he’s sworn since that would happen if Sophia and I were ever kidnapped. If you prove him right he doesn’t have to whack you, and it saves his face with the other bosses, too!”
Sophia leaped up out of her chair, wrapped her arms around Rosa and kissed her. “When I grow up, I want to be smart just like you, Rosa. That’s the only thing that might save Michael.”
“Okay.” I told them, “Better poor again than dead. What do we do first?”
Rosa said, “We have to go someplace miles away and call Dad, and reassure him we’re okay, and not being threatened in any way. Dad won’t be co-operating with the police, but you can bet there are dozens of his people looking for us. If they find you before we’ve negotiated a deal, it won’t be pretty!” I had visions of wood chippers and cement mixers dancing in my head.
Rosa and Sophia used some makeup they found around the house to paint up their faces like they were going to a party. They pulled some of Granny’s clothing out of a cedar chest, too. They made a point of laughing and giggling and generally making happy noises. I was beginning to believe I might survive this stupid mistake of mine after all.
We drove to a city about thirty miles away, and Rosa found a pay phone and asked for change. I handed her some and she made the call. This is the girls side of the conversation. “Hello, Dad? Yes, this is Rosa and everything’s fine. The brat is peachy. Okay, here she is.” She handed the phone to Sophia.
“Hello, Daddy? I never knew this would be so much fun! Yes, Daddy, we’re being good girls and Rosa is taking care of me like Family is supposed to. Kiss kiss, Daddy! Love you, too. See you soon.”
Sophia handed the phone back to Rosa, and Rosa said. “Dad? We’re having some complaints we’re eating our host out of house and home. He mentioned he’d send us home with two big ones for your expenses if you would forgive and forget? Oh, that bad, huh? You’re five in the red already? Okay, Dad. I’ll see what I can do. We love you, Daddy. Yes, I’ll take care of the brat. Tell everyone we said hello. Smooch!” Rosa hung up the phone. She turned to me. “Get in that car and drive for your life, Michael! Dad’s people will be all over this place like white on rice within a few minutes! Sophia, fasten your seatbelt, Brat.”
Rosa was visibly trembling! “Michael, I’ve seen my dad angry. I’ve seen him kill a man, but I have never known him to be as angry as he is right now. If you value your life, have every cent you can lay a hand on sent here by courier as quickly as possible. I’ll do my best to intervene with him. I’ll tell him I’m in love with you, but please Michael, get that money here now!”
We made it back to the house without anyone stopping us. I made several calls to my various banks. Rosa came to my bedroom, where I keep my computer, and stripped. God, she was beautiful!
She told me, “I want you to write this story, Michael, in your own words, and tell Dad how I came to love you so quickly, and we made love. It may help him believe me when I tell him. She sat on the bed then and laid back. I went to her and worshipped her body with my hands, lips, tongue, and my teeth. How can one describe perfection? Rosa was perfect in every way.
“Oh, Michael,” she sighed. “Please be gentle with me!” I was gentle and slow as I entered her, and encountered her virginity. “Do it now, Michael, we don’t have much time!” Rosa was insistent, and the intensity of my breaking her hymen was so, so… I had a premature ejaculation.
She patted my face affectionately and told me, “You’ll do better next time, Michael. Are you convinced yet I’m trying to help save your life? Is there any other bank where you have funds?”
I admitted, “Well, there is my Credit Union…”
“Get the money now, Michael.” Rosa ordered. I called my Credit Union. I made several more sexual advances to her that evening, between calling bank officers to arrange for the cash pickups and deliveries. She wasn’t responsive, and I couldn’t blame her. She and Sophia slept together in a guest bedroom that night.
They woke me up the next morning. We ate leftovers from the Sicilian place, and I couldn’t believe it when they poured glasses of wine! Rosa saw my expression, and said, “Hey Michael. We’re Sicilian. This is vino, you know, fermented grape juice?”
They insisted we pick up our dinner there, too, while they covered their faces in the car. We’d made most of the pickups that morning, but one armored car came by that afternoon. I signed for it, then the girls expertly checked the money. “My count is nine million, eight hundred thousand and some chump change, Brat.” Rosa said, “Are you close?”
“Yes, me too, Rosa.”
“Okay, Michael.” Rosa said. “Hand me the ‘900 Magnum’ and the diary you’re writing, it’s time for the changing of the guard.”

This is me now, the brat’s older sister. All the names in ‘Michaels’ story were changed, but the facts were basically true. I reached for the nearest vino bottle. The one with the green radio transmitter replacing the lead pellet seal. Dad’s uncle owns the Sicilian place, and we eat the same order there at least three meals a week.
“Dad we’ll be coming out now, but I’ll be popping a cap first. Numb nuts, you were right about one thing, you were a dead man walking after you threatened my sister’s life!” I shot him in the crotch, then handed the pistol butt first to one of Dad’s cleanup crew as they came in the door. The brat and I stepped into Dad’s waiting arms to catch up on hugs and kisses.

---