Raina stopped when the bouncer stopped. She stood waiting about fifteen feet away as he bent over to speak into a man's ear. The man appeared to be in his 50’s and was decently good-looking. Cassie, Raina’s best friend, would call him a silver fox. He wore a tailored suit, dark grey with a blood red tie and handkerchief in his pocket. His dark grey hair was slicked back and he wore rings on several of his fingers. He had that look about him; the one she was beginning to recognize from all the mobsters she had dealt with. A hard, cold, dead look. It sent a chill straight through her.
She lifted her chin. It didn't matter. She’d lived a lifetime in only twenty-one years. She was a fighter. She wasn't about to let one scary ass man stop her from forging ahead and taking care of herself, the way she'd always done.
The Italian’s head jerked up once the bouncer was finished speaking. He stared at her, at first in shock, and then with something closer to speculation. He was sizing her up, trying to figure out why she was there, in his town, alone. Without them saying a word to each other he would know that she was vulnerable. She was voluntarily walking into his lair knowing that he could easily have her killed. She was banking on her stepfather's name to keep Signore Savino from doing that.
Raina walked forward, adding some swagger to her step, trying to project an air of both confidence and femininity. She sensed he would respect both, and in this moment, she needed the man on her side.
"Signore Savino, thank you for seeing me."
He tilted his head toward her, acknowledging her words. Though they both knew that he had not agreed to see her, that she had pushed her way into his nightclub using the only weapon she had; her connection to Sotza.
"I have information about your son."
Raina slid into the booth. The Italian raised an eyebrow at her and then lifted his drink, some kind of amber liquid in a crystal glass, and took a long sip.
Instead of asking her about his son, he said, "What do you drink?"
Raina’s head was swimming from the pain in her back, from lack of food and from anxiety. She was not about to add alcohol to that mix. "Nothing for me, thank you."
He stiffened noticeably and flicked a finger at her. "In my bar, you drink. If you drink with me, I will listen. Otherwise you leave." He glanced to the side where his son was pacing outside the VIP area like an angry tiger.
Raina's heart pounded. If she left without the promise of his protection, Antonio would pick her up and finish her off. And if she somehow managed to slip past Antonio, she would have Mateo to contend with. She needed Savino on her side.
She licked her lips and thought for second. What should she order? Because of her kidney, she rarely drank. She really didn't even like alcohol. She thought about ordering a glass of red wine, which was slightly more tolerable than the hard stuff, but she suspected that Giovanni would respect her more if she had a real drink with him.
She nodded her head. "Vodka, straight up, with ice please."
There, now she sounded like a gangster. The Italian looked amused, as though he knew that she didn’t drink. He beckoned a nearby waitress over, a tall thin woman with sky-high heels and a skintight black dress. He gave her Raina’s order and then waved her away, turning his full focus on Raina.
"Now, you tell me what mio figlio has been up to." All of the amusement drained from his expression, leaving behind an utterly terrifying man.
Raina felt more than compelled to tell him the truth, she felt real bone deep fear. For the first time since entering the nightclub it occurred to her that she may not survive this conversation. Perhaps brazen wasn't the way to go with a man like this. He was the Italian Godfather for a reason.
"Your son hired me to create documents for him," she said honestly. There was no point beating around the bush. “A fake passport and driver’s license.”
"I have a forger in my employ; I would know if my son were looking for documents. You must have mistaken him for someone else," Savino said dismissively.
“Your son is Antonio Savino, though the false name he chose was Antony Ricci.” Savino’s eyes narrowed when she mentioned his son’s alias, as though he’d heard it before. Raina proceeded to give Savino every detail of her encounter with his son, up to and including the shooting.
Antonio had insisted on knowing who would be doing the forgery, he insisted on telling her why he needed the forgery and he'd used his reputation to try to intimidate her. Of course, given who her parents were, intimidation was the last thing she felt. Annoyance, disgust and amusement had been her top emotions. She didn’t like being bullied into work. Antonio’s arrogance had left a bad taste in her mouth, but his threat to make her life in Italy difficult, and the tidy stack of bills he placed in front of her, had convinced her to do the job despite her bad first impression.
When Raina stopped speaking, Savino looked convinced that it actually had been his son that’d asked for her services. He demanded to know everything Antonio had said to her.
"He thinks your policy on the Malta underground is weak. He believes you’re wrong not to pursue more territory and he’s decided that he’ll go in and do it himself."
Savino’s fist came down so hard that the table jumped, knocking over his drink. Raina sort of wished her drink had arrived first, but it arrived shortly after. The waitress set it down in front of her and, sensing the tension in the air, scurried away as fast as she could on five-inch heels.
"Why the fuck would my son defy me in such a way? He knows my plan for Malta. I will have him skinned alive.” When Savino turned to scan the club, Antonio was conspicuously absent.
A shiver went through Raina and she wondered if Savino was serious. Would he kill his own son over such an infraction? And more important, would he kill the messenger?
"If it helps, I believe he was doing it, in part, to please you. As though he wanted to lay a lucrative win at your feet," she hurried to tell him. "I think he thought if he took on such a feat and was successful, you might be willing to give him more responsibility. More power."
She wasn't lying to the older man to pacify him. His son had spoken to her a lot. She didn't know if he'd been driven by arrogance, or the need to unload something off his chest to a person that didn't know his family. Whatever it was though, he'd given her the ammunition she needed to speak to his father. And she didn't have a single qualm about throwing Antonio under the bus like this. When he had her shot, he declared war with the youngest Sotza.
"And why are you telling me all this?" Annoyance coloured his voice. He clearly didn't like having anything out of his control and Raina was placing a cluster fuck at his feet.
"I think your son realized that he said too much to me, gave me something I could use against him. If he knew my background, he probably would've realized I would never do that. I have too much to lose too. He sent three men after me, tried to have me killed."
"And yet you're not dead," the Italian remarked coldly.
He didn't sound as sorry as she rather thought he should, considering his asshole of a son tried to murder her. "I was shot in the back earlier today," she snapped. "A friend of mine came to my rescue and shot your son’s men."
Savino frowned. "And your friend is?"