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.
Reluctantly she picked up the fake fur jacket and tugged it on. It was pure white, a beautiful contrast to the royal blue of the dress. Okay, she was willing to admit, the jacket made the outfit.
She descended the stairs quickly, aware that she was two minutes past the allotted fifteen minutes. When she arrived by the front door, Giovanni was waiting for her, glancing at the watch that he pulled out of his pocket. A smile tugged at her lips. It suited him; the pocket watch attached to a gold chain. She rather thought he'd be dashing with a monocle as well, but she wasn't going to tell him that. She didn't think that their relationship had progressed to that point yet.
"Ah, there you are, bella," he said, a chiding note in his voice as he tucked his watch away. Then he looked her over with admiration, all chiding aside. "You are stunning. Shall we, Ms. Sotza?" He gave her his arm.
She didn't bother to correct him on the Sotza. Her name was Raina Duncan, after her adoptive parents. Her last name mattered to her, because the Duncans had raised her. They had been good to her. Not only did she feel she owed them her allegiance, but using their last name was also a sign of respect.
Raina loved her birth mother and she adored her stepfather, but she would not erase her past by taking on Sotza's name. However, she wasn't going to argue with the Italian Godfather. The name of Sotza was what was keeping her safe at the moment.
She grinned at Giovanni and took the arm that he offered her. "Thank you, signore.”
He led her out the door toward an idling limousine with tinted windows. He opened the door and helped her slide onto the seat. He closed the door carefully and strode around to the other side.
Giovanni was smooth and she appreciated it. He was a gentleman, much like her stepfather. She had no doubt Giovanni could be as brutal as Sotza, but he managed to keep a veneer of civilization at the same time. She hoped he was living on this side of sociopathic, the side where he could actually appreciate her plight, rather than treat her like another piece on his chessboard.
They chatted easily as they drove. Raina wasn't surprised, Giovanni was an easy person for her to get along with. She asked him about life in Italy, what he loved best about the country and what he thought she should see as a tourist. He was happy to answer her questions, even sometimes becoming animated as he spoke. He was passionate about Italy; a man who clearly loved his birth country.
They arrived at a parking lot where they left the vehicle and stepped into a waiting boat. The wind slapped her in the face as they made their way through the canals. Normally the sights and smells of Venice would capture her completely, but she was preoccupied with her upcoming meeting with Mateo. Her stomach was filled with butterf
lies.
Before long they were at the club, Banditos. Giovanni stepped out onto the dock and held his hand out to her, helping her until she was standing next to him smoothing her dress over her thighs. She released a long breath as she looked at the door of the club with apprehension. In the light of day, it looked like a regular building. Not nearly as exciting, or sophisticated, as it had the night before. She supposed it was probably this way with all nightclubs. They would never look as awesome in the cold light of day as they did at night.
"You have nothing to be nervous about, I will make sure that you’re protected at all times and that you are not harmed by this man."
“It’s not me I’m worried about.”
Giovanni gave her an unconcerned smile. “I will also be fine, bella.”
Raina let out a short laugh. "Clearly, you have never seen Mateo angry before.”
Giovanni squeezed her hand again and led her toward the door, which a bouncer opened for them. "Clearly you have never seen Mateo Gutierrez angry before or you would not be standing here talking to me." Giovanni threw her own words back at her, but in a much more sinister way. A shiver slid down her spine as she stepped into the darkness of the club.
Chapter Nine
A good night's sleep put Mateo in a better mood. At least a less-likely-to-murder-on-sight mood. His first thought was Raina; the deep and abiding gnawing feeling of concern that wouldn’t go away until he set eyes on her, had her back in his care.
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, placing his feet on the floor. He ran a hand over his hair and face and then stretched his back and neck, cracking his shoulders.
He glanced at the cheap clock. He'd slept for nearly eight hours. Mateo was usually a strict six hours per night guy.
He snatched up his phone which was plugged into the charger next to the clock. A message blinked at him. It was from Angela.
Meeting with Savino. Banditos. 11 AM.
It was now 10:15 AM. The message had come in late the night before. Angela had done good, arranging a meeting so quickly.
He pushed himself off the bed and opened the blinds, allowing weak sunlight to filter through the dirty window. He took a quick shower, washing his hair and running soap over his body. He dried off and looked through his bag for some clothes.
He hadn't brought much with him in the way of nicer clothes. He rarely wore a suit, preferring outfits that allowed for easier movement. But a meeting with a man of Savino’s standing called for one. He hadn't anticipated needing a suit here, believing that he would grab Raina and get out of Italy. He should’ve known his future bride would throw a wrench into his plans.
Mateo growled his frustration and tossed aside the pair of jeans he’d been holding. If he had taken a room in a more upscale hotel, he could have called the concierge to get someone to shop for him. But with barely half an hour left before the meeting, he was on his own and running out of time. He was about to jerk the towel off his hips and dress in his worn jeans and a T-shirt when a knock sounded at the door.
He picked his gun up off the nightstand, checked to make sure that it was loaded and walked carefully toward the door. Standing to the side he said loudly, "Who is it?"
A female voice filtered through. He couldn't tell what she said, but she sounded like Angela. In one swift move he unlocked the door and jerked it open reaching out for her.
"Hey!" she yelled in annoyance as he dragged her inside. She tripped over her combat boots and let go of the garment bag she was holding, reaching out to grip the doorknob so she wouldn't fall over.
Mateo didn't give her time to right herself, he shoved her to the side, looked both ways down the hall and then slammed the door shut. He locked it and gave her a narrow look. "What are you doing here?"
She huffed out a breath and strode further into the room. "I figured since your ass was getting some beauty sleep this morning, I better get you some appropriate attire for your meeting with Savino. He surrounds himself with smartly dressed people, which tells me he isn't one to enjoy the presence of a roughneck."
Mateo grunted and walked away from her, leaving her to pick up the garment bag and toss it on the bed. He was being ungrateful, but he didn't care. He never cared. This was him. He didn’t observe social niceties. They were a waste of time and likely to get a person killed.
"You spoke to him." Not a question. He wouldn't have a meeting with the man if Angela hadn't met with him first.
She nodded. "A strange man, but I don’t think he’ll have us all killed or anything. As long as you don't say the wrong thing."
They looked at each other, both knowing what the other was thinking. Of course Mateo was going to say the wrong thing. He was an enforcer, a second-in-command. He was rough, he was brutal, he was in no way diplomatic. The boss made the negotiations. Mateo’s job was to keep the boss safe and make sure everyone abided by Sotza’s rules.
Miami was going to be a test of Mateo’s ability to change. If and when he finally got his hands on the city.
Neither of them said anything as Mateo unzipped the garment bag and examined the suit inside. He raised an eyebrow at it. "How much did you spend on this?"
It was easily one of the most expensive suits he would ever wear. Sotza, his employer, was always impeccably dressed in these things, but Mateo had never seen the point. He could work and fight much more easily wearing his own clothes.
"You don't want to know."
No, he didn't. Though Mateo was paid very well, with more money than he could possibly spend in a lifetime, he put most of it away. He sent half of it to his family in Caracas. The rest he squirreled away. For what, he didn't know. But he was the type of guy that figured eventually a path would open up to him and he would know what to do.
He dropped his towel, uncaring of Angela's presence, and began dressing. She rolled her eyes, made a clucking sound and turned to face the wall. He smirked at her back. For such a bad ass, she sure got all uppity about seeing a naked man. There was nothing between them or he wouldn't have dropped the towel in front of her. Angela was like a sister. They had each other's backs. She was his employee. Sometimes they acted like friends. But no more than that.
As he dressed in the fancy suit, he said, "Tell me about Savino."
"He's extremely wealthy. He has enough influence in Italy to sway elections. To choose candidates that’ll enable his business empire and then ensure their victories. Those that cross him have a tendency to disappear and the judicial system here doesn’t seem to get involved. Obviously, he's bought the police, which I suspect is how the son was able to track Raina."
Mateo had been afraid of that when she'd run from him at the clinic. Afraid that in her panic she would rush to leave the country and end up in the hands of a man who wanted her dead. Though her presence in the home of the father did not bode well, at least she'd had the sense to pull weight on her stepfather's name. That alone would keep her safe. For now.
"Turn around," Mateo growled. Angela obeyed and when she was facing him, he handed her the tie.
She stepped up to him and dragged it around his neck using her fingertips to press it up under the collar. With quick efficient motions she tied it for him, keeping her face from betraying what he knew she was thinking. A badass murderous motherfucker like Mateo needed help with his tie. He'd never been able to tie the fuckers, not even as a boy. Probably had something to do with his father passing away before he was five and then being raised by his mother and two sisters.
Mateo debated packing his things and preparing to check out of the hotel but decided to leave it for now. He didn't trust Raina not to throw another wrench into his plans. He wanted to leave Italy immediately, which likely meant that his contrary fiancé would want to stay for a while. Perhaps vacation in the home of one of the most dangerous men on the face of the planet. It would almost be amusing if it wasn't so terrifying.
Chapter Ten
Raina’s leg jiggled under the table as she swept the club with nervou
s glances. She tapped her phone again and looked at the time. 10:58 AM. He would be here in a few minutes.
That thought alone sent her heart rate soaring and a ripple of apprehension through her muscles. She had to force herself to sit still and not flee the building. This was for two reasons. She was honest enough to admit that she was deeply and hopelessly attracted to Mateo. She tried to keep it on the down low, tried to bury it so that she didn't have to think about it. She feared what Mateo would do if he knew. He was already relentless and determined. How much scarier would he be if he knew she returned his feelings?
The second reason she was nervous was more obvious. Mateo was one of the most terrifying men in the world. He had such an air of unleashed violence about him that anyone standing in his vicinity would immediately sense the danger.
And for good reason. He moved fast, like lightning. Or a big cat stalking its prey. Mateo was also patient and intelligent. He thought through everything he did before executing his plans. But when he executed, it was with speed and precision. Probably one of the reasons he was still alive. Raina had no doubt that Mateo had made enemies in his days.
Giovanni, who had been off to the side speaking in low tones to one of his men, joined her at the table and sat. "I took the liberty of ordering you a drink."
A frosted glass of orange juice was placed in front of her. Raina smirked. "Nonalcoholic?"
"I have had the opportunity to learn some things about you. Among those things is the terrible disease and surgery that you had to go through as a child. I now regret forcing alcohol on you last night, knowing now why you choose not to drink."
Raina shrugged. "It won't kill me to have a drink once in a while, I just have to be careful. I was lucky enough to get a second chance at life and it would be a stupid thing to risk that."
Giovanni nodded thoughtfully, internalizing her statement. It was good, she wanted him to realize how much life and freedom meant to her. He seemed determined that they should be allies. Now if he would stop pushing his murderous son on her, she would be much more comfortable in his presence.
Born a Queen (The Queens Book 3) Page 5
