After showing her into his office, he went to his desk and picked up a pill bottle. He shook a couple pills out into his hand and gave them to her. She looked at his hand with narrowed eyes. It probably wasn't smart to take drugs from someone she didn't trust. And right now, Savino was on the far end of her spectrum of trust.
He caught on to her hesitation. "The doctor left these for you last night. I forgot to send them up to your room. I assure you they are simply a strong dose of ibuprofen, for your pain. He says he can bring more if you need them."
Raina shook off her skepticism, reminding herself he had plenty of other opportunities to drug or kill her. She took the pills and swallowed them dry, a skill she’d picked up in her early years of kidney failure when she had to swallow many pills and got impatient with waiting for water. "I don't think I'll need any more." She gave him a smirk. "I'm a tough little creature."
He flashed her a quick smile and then arranged his face back into business mode. "I will have some proper clothes sent to your room. I'd intended to do that before you got up, but you were out of bed earlier than expected. I’ll show you our pantry while we wait for the clothing to arrive. After, we will attend a meeting."
"With your son?" she asked hesitantly, trying to keep the worry from her voice.
Giovanni shook his head. "No, Mateo Gutierrez. We will meet with him and discuss your future."
For a few seconds it felt as though all of the air was sucked out of the room. Elation crashed into terror and sizzled right through her body making her hair stand on end. Mateo was coming for her, exactly as she knew he would. Once more her flight instinct kicked in and it was everything she could do not to run. She didn't think she would make it far with both Mateo and Giovanni hot on her heels. How the hell was she supposed to get out of this?
Chapter Eight
"Who are you?" Raina demanded, as an elderly woman dressed head to foot in black invaded her room without knocking.
The woman's hair was twisted into an intricate and severe knot on top of her head. It was steel grey, a colour that seemed to go with her sour expression. Though the woman hadn't said a word yet, Raina guessed that this was about the least fun person she was going to meet in Italy.
The woman dumped a pile of clothes on the bed and muttered, "Dress."
Though she'd only said one word, she had a thick accent. "English?" Raina asked curiously.
The woman shook her head and pointed at the pile in the bed. "Dress."
"Convenient," Raina muttered darkly.
Her host spoke perfect English with only a hint of an accent. As did his son and all of the men that Raina had met so far associated with either of the two mafiosos. It seemed strange that this old woman was affiliated but didn't speak English.
Raina picked at the pile of clothes on the bed, curious as to what might have been chosen for her. She held up a dress. It was pretty, flirty and short, nothing Raina would ever wear if she had a choice. The neckline appeared to be plunging, but she wouldn't know for sure until it was on and she saw how it fit. The fabric was soft and clingy. It would hug her body and likely give her curves that she didn't actually have.
Along with the dress was a pair of silk lace panties, garters, and silk stockings. There was also a pair of three-inch black stiletto heels with tiny straps around the ankles. She flipped them over to look at the brand. Valentino. Italian. She smirked.
Next, she picked up a short fluffy jacket. She wrinkled her nose as her fingers sank into the luxurious fur. She glanced over at the silently disapproving woman and asked, "Is this real?"
The woman stared at Raina without so much as a blink.
"You have a smudge of dirt on your nose," Raina said casually, pretending to turn away as she said it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the woman lift her hand to touch her nose, look at her fingers and then drop her arm. Raina turned around, her eyes narrowed. "I knew you knew English. Why do you want me to think we can’t communicate?"
The woman narrowed her eyes at Raina in return, but still refused to speak. Raina felt her temper rise, but held on to it, trying to rationalize. There could be any number of reasons why this woman refused to speak to her, but Raina despised being toyed with. She preferred people be plain with her, speak what they thought.
"Did Signore Savino tell you not to speak to me?" Raina demanded. Still the woman refused to speak. Raina picked up the furred jacket and tossed it aside. "I won't wear it as long as there’s a chance it might be real. I don't believe in the slaughter of animals for fashion."
The woman betrayed her feelings for Raina’s statement with a wrinkled nose and a slight role of her eyes. Oh, now it was on. Raina rounded on her. "What, you think animals should be destroyed for our pleasure?"
Still nothing, though the woman crossed her arms tightly in front of her and stared a hole in the wall opposite. Raina felt as though she badly had something to say but was afraid to speak her mind. "Well if you won't speak to me, then I'm going to have to guess your thoughts. You think since I eat meat that I'm a hypocrite. Well I'm not. I don't like meat either, I only eat it because I have to have a very well-balanced diet on account of my kidneys. I had kidney failure when I was a child and I had to have a kidney transplant. Since then, I've had to watch my diet extremely carefully, which includes a small amount of meat. But I won't have you thinking I'm a hypocrite – "
"It's not a real fur, idiota! It's a fake. Oi, young people speak too freely these days! The car will arrive for you in fifteen minutes." The woman turned on her heel and stomped away.
"Knew she could speak English," Raina muttered, picking up the fake fur jacket.
It was really amazing what design houses could come up with these days using synthetics. The jacket was as luxurious and soft as real fur, to the point that Raina hesitated to wear it anyway. She didn't want to be accused of animal murder, and who knew what PETA representatives she might run into while she was out and about in Venice.
Raina decided to skip a shower, since she didn’t want to get her bandage wet, choosing to have a quick bird bath instead. Then she pulled on the panties and the dress. She picked up the garter and stockings. Raina had never worn anything like it before and she didn't think the few minutes she had left were enough to try and figure it out. She dropped them and reached for the heels.
The shoes fit like they were made for her feet. Someone had paid attention, either to her feet, or her shoes while she was sleeping. The thought probably should've freaked her out, but she was getting use to Giovanni’s ways. He was a strange one, but she didn't think he meant her any real harm.
She checked herself in the floor length mirror next to the dresser. She looked good. Really good. Raina rarely wore dresses. She’d grown up as a farm girl and was happiest when she was wearing jeans, a T-shirt and running shoes, but since meeting her mother and seeing far more of the world, she'd come to gain an appreciation for fashion. Not necessarily high-fashion or brand labels, but more a desire to look good when she left the house. Raina smiled at the mirror. She thought maybe she looked a bit like a period dame, the side candy of a 1920’s gangster.