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Thank you. Bellona didn't say anything more than that. Logically, she knew it wasn't Laverna's fault. She was following up on a good bounty. She had mouths to feed and always did her best to care for the city's outcasts. Bellona would get over it, but not that night.
Bellona went to her wardrobe and put on a dark purple satin dress. She blew out her hair and applied some makeup. Finally, she cast a light glamor over herself to soften her muscular arms and sharp angles, and to hide her scars. It helped her look less threatening and fool humans into thinking she was exactly like them.
Bellona grabbed her phone and texted Medusa with the codes to her home network and the cameras she had installed. She wanted to be notified when or if Rafael woke up. She needed someone to keep an eye on him.
Bellona didn't leave until she received a thumbs-up and a snake emoji. She would have to find a way to repay Medusa for her help. She'd had doubts about socializing with other gods after so long, but it was nice to have people who knew what she was and whom she could reach out to. They were all old monsters in their ways, doing their best to step out of the stories and roles they had been written into.
Bellona couldn't help but think of Rafael's words to her earlier about retiring to paint pictures. Maybe you can create a new purpose.
Bellona painted her lips as red as his blood had been. She would think about a new purpose, but not until all his enemies were in the ground where they belonged. With a final check to ensure Rafael was still asleep, Bellona headed out into the night.
The Trevi Fountain gleamed like a white fantasy of stone under the lights around the square. The crowd around it was constant and relentless, and Bellona blended in with them. Her heeled boots clicked against the cobblestones as she closed in on her prey.
Lorenzo's was a restaurant famed for its BBQ grill flavors mixed with Michelin Star flare. Bellona was old enough to remember the spectacle the city made out of executions and thought naming a BBQ restaurant after the saint who was burned alive on a grill was darkly funny but incredibly gauche.
Bellona spotted the four men loitering outside, the telling bump in their jackets showing where their guns were. She smiled at them and kept walking.
Inside, it smelled of cooking meat and fresh flowers that were on every table.
"Excuse me, signora, do you have a reservation?" the maître d' asked.
Bellona looked down her nose at him. "I'm here to have dinner with my good friend, Rita Costa."
The man paled, a nervous smile stretching over his face. "My apologies. Signorina Costa is at her usual booth."
"Thank you," Bellona replied, following him through the table maze. The roof was frescoed with scenes of the saint's life, with his famous death in the center.
Bellona spotted at least five other heavyweights sitting around the restaurant near the windows and doors leading to the kitchen. If Bellona did decide to start something, she would have to fight her way out. The problem was that the rest of the restaurant was full of innocent families and couples having dinner as well. She might be good enough to avoid killing them, but she doubted the Costa goons would care who got in the way.
Rita Costa sat alone in her booth, wearing a pale pink dress, and at first glance, she seemed like an innocent rose amongst the thorns. She had to be in her early thirties and had a thick, glossy wave of dark curls and looked soft except when you looked into her eyes. There was a vicious coldness in there that Bellona recognized all too well. Rita spotted Bellona heading her way and gave her a long once-over, like someone eyeing up the competition.
If only you knew, princess.
Bellona pulled up the chair opposite her and sat down. "Good evening, Rita. Mind if I sit?"
"I do, actually. Who the fuck are you, and why are you interrupting my dinner?" Rita looked over at her guards, who were assessing the threat.
"Oh, don't bother them about little old me." Bellona fluttered her lashes. "I'm not going to cause a scene and try and kill you here, ragazza."
Rita took a sip of her dirty martini. "Again, who are you, and why should I care? I'm a busy woman, so please stop wasting my time."
"My name is Bellona, and I'm here with an offer for you. Listen up, little girl, because I'm not in the mood for any more bullshit." Bellona reached across, took the olive from Rita's martini, and bit it off the metal pick. Rita's eyes flared at the audacity. Good.
"I want you to take the hit off Rafael Asellio by dawn, or I'm going to destroy the Costa family so thoroughly, it will be like you never existed." Bellona put the metal pick back into Rita's martini glass with a sharp plink. "That's about as gracious as I have it in me to be right now."
Rita laughed softly and leaned back into the soft leather chair. "I heard Rafael had gotten himself a bodyguard. You seem to be misinformed, my dear. I don't want Rafael dead at all."
"Really? The three million you were willing to pay to have him taken and tortured suggest otherwise."
"That was…" Rita gave her hand an elegant wave. "Motivation. I need him to know how serious I am."
"About what? Taking over his company? Why not make him a monetary offer instead of trying to kill him?"
Rita smiled, and she was genuinely beautiful. "I don't just want the company. I want him by my side and in my bed."
Bellona forced her jaw to unclench. "And why is that? Why him?"
"My father tried to get Michele to become business partners for years. He abducted Rafael to try and put some pressure on him. It didn't work. So he tried a different approach. He wanted me to marry Rafael and make us all family. Michele was dying and knew that Rafael was going to need help to keep those vultures, Cino and Tirone, from trying to force his son out. Michele had the contract for our wedding already to go, and then the old bastard died before it could be signed."
