The Mafia's Right-Hand (Wo)Man

“Thank you for your service,” another civilian commented with a bright smile as Rein pushed her way to the Ambrosia Pub. She tipped her cap to the person before heading straight to the bar.

“Finally,” she thought after seeing the bartender come into view. Choosing the furthest seat by the bar, she dumped her luggage on the floor and leaned on the brick wall. “Two pints of your best beer, and keep ‘em coming please.”

As much as Rein enjoyed seeing her hometown after years of being deployed to the most dangerous places, she never did like attracting any attention to her. She looked around the establishment and saw several other soldiers who also just arrived. Oh, how she wished she changed to a more casual fit first. “Any battle buddies to drink with?” The red-headed bartender approached, placing the tall glasses of lager on the lacquered wood.

“Yeah, seems like he’s running late,” Rein replied, then quickly chugged the whole drink down in seconds, amusing the bartender and making him laugh. That damned Damon, she knew for sure he would be late. After hearing his sappy tale of having to recover his lost love with an ex-girlfriend, she wondered why he agreed to have a drink with her in the first place.

“These love-sick men and their obsession with women.” Rein cringed at the thought. She has always wondered why people would subject themselves to commitments that would only hurt during the process and then end in heartbreak.

She looked back from her stool once more, hoping to see her military friend among the waves of patrons coming in. Giving up, “He ditched me, I think,” she informed the barkeep with disappointment. He was the one who insisted on getting plastered at a pub, instead of doing it in her house, which was more stacked with various types of alcohol compared to any pubs in the city. And they didn’t have to spend any dollars, despite how expensive those would be in the market. But no, the most morally upright Damon Mitchell should only be entering a mafia house if it was work-related.

“More drinks for ye then. First two’s on the house lass,” the bartender replied as a comfort. Well, at least someone was being considerate. From their sparse conversation, his name’s Lou and he owned the place. The old man understood she preferred less talking and let her enjoy her beer.

But speaking of old men, “Ugh, I forgot to call him.” Coincidentally, her phone vibrated with the words ‘Drama Queen’ spelled out on the bright screen.

“Hey uncle, I’ve been meaning to call you,” she greeted in a sweet sing-song way. “At least you answer calls from a lowlife like me, Eirene Evander.” The person on the other line let out an obviously fake chuckle and with a sinister tone continued, “And here I heard you’ve been drinking at the Ambrosia, alone.”

Well, that was quick. She’d only been there for less than an hour and someone was already reporting on her activities. The Evander spies are getting better. “It’s not that-”

“Here we go,” she thought.  “cue the waterworks.” And on the dot, she heard sniffles from her relative. Rein could only sigh. “Everyone’s excited to meet you but you blow them all off to drink cheap drinks alone? Do you have any idea-” Rein had to quickly cut him off. His theatrics usually lasted hours and she never had the patience for them, hence his contact name.

“Uncle Aidon, first of all, just cause beer’s cheap, doesn’t mean it tastes bad. Second, I’ll be home soon, alright? I just wanted to get around Erebus without anyone knowing and turning it into a circus.” Many soldiers were just coming home from deployment so no one would notice Rein mixed in with the crowd. Not that anyone recognized who she was anyway.

Aidon finally gave in and said, “Fine, but don’t have too much fun there,” Rein knew his next words were serious. “We still have a lot to discuss, especially your coming activities in the city.”

“Yes, sir.”

While facing the wall talking to Aidon, a creak from the chair beside signaled her of a newcomer. “We’ll talk again later, my friend’s here.” She swiftly dropped the call to chew out Damon for almost ditching her.

She flung her arm hard, hitting what should have been Damon’s shoulder. “Asshole! I’ve been waiti- shit.” Rein’s face quickly dropped at the sight. Not only was this person not her friend, but it had to be someone like him. She retracted her hand as fast as lightning and pulled her cap down to her nose.

“Well,” the guy cleared his throat from shock and straightened his jacket from Rein’s assault, “This asshole’s sorry for making you wait, Miss.” God, she’s so dead.

She motioned toward him and bowed her head. “No, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” She wanted to go on, “I didn’t know the Erinyes mafia heir, Delian Leofric, would be coming to a place like this,” but knew better than to say it.

The man towered over her, even as they were sitting. His serious demeanor was clearly that of a person you should never mess with. Anyone could see even from his thick clothes, that there was a fit and sturdy build hiding underneath. His clean-cut hair and chiseled face could sweep any person off their feet, at the same time strike fear in them.

She heard another creak coming from her side. “Sorry, I must have made you uncomfortable. I’ll just move further.” His voice sounded sincere but Rein knew better.

She remembered a story from her superior during their briefing. “Be careful now, a young boy who accidentally bumped into Mr. Leofric was found floating in the river the next day. They don’t call him the ‘Untamed Adonis’ for nothing.” “’Untamed Adonis’?” She inquired about the moniker. “It’s cause despite having good looks, he’s one scary man that you can't trifle with.” Whether that was true or not, she didn’t wish to be in his bad graces.

“No please, you didn’t. It’s fine.” Rein kept readjusting her uniform from being a bundle of nerves. Her palms started to get sweaty as she anticipated his reaction. “Alright then.” was all she heard. She didn’t know she was holding her breath until she had to burp it out.

Rein could feel eyes on her as she downed another glass. “Marines?”

She was not ready for this. Yes, it was her mission to get as close to the core of the mafia as possible. But she just got home, can’t she celebrate her arrival just for one night? Why did this Leofric guy have to show up right away?

“Remember stupid,” she scolded herself, “you were the one who volunteered yourself. Remember why you’re doing this.” Besides, it felt weird that she didn’t feel afraid as she should be, just nervous. “Like a first date,” suddenly came into mind but was quickly swept away by Rein before she would puke at the thought. After a few seconds of pause, she answered, “Yes, sir.”

His following questions were simple, and she did her best to respond as politely as she could. Though his slurred words let her know that this man was clearly quite drunk.

“Where’re you stationed?”

“Rison.”

“What’s, what’s your rank?”

“Sergeant.”

“Was it dangerous there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Anyone waiting for you at home?”

“Just relatives.”

Still finding it awkward to do anything else, Rein took out her phone and typed D-A-M-O-N. “Hey, sorry for not coming,” a gloomy voice whispered. She knew it, that ex of his was bad news. “I told you that Dear John letter was real. Do you need me to come over?” She made sure her present drinking buddy heard that question. Rein had been itching for an excuse to leave.

“No, I think I’ll just sleep. Sleep until I forget her,” Damon lamented as he kept sighing. Taking her duffle bag by the shoulder, Rein gestured to Delian that she had to go and mouthed thanks to Lou.

“What are you talking about? I’ll come over to your house.” Rein continued to head for the door but quickly stopped in her tracks. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

At the corner table near the pool tables, were two men with the blondest heads on them. They didn’t even bother to look normal as their table was void of food or drinks, and their eyes were focused solely on the back of the mafia underboss.

“You know what, why don’t you come here instead?” She slowly made her way back to the bar, making sure she wasn’t imagining it. “I’m in a cluster fuck, might need backup.”

Damon, knowing that the phrase meant serious trouble, said, “Stay alive in the next ten minutes. I’ll be there.”

“Just my luck.” First, the Leofric heir, now, the Nordic mob. The Stockholm mafia had always been the Erinyes’ biggest competition when it comes to smuggling liquor and contraband into Europe. But Stockholm wins when it comes to who’s more violent. Them being in the same vicinity as the second-highest person in the mafia meant someone will surely die.

“On second thought,” Rein called out, “I might just have one more beer or five shots of brandy. I don’t know.” She went back to her seat next to the puzzled Leofric and almost threw her luggage in frustration. His eyes actually lit up and seemed more alert this time. “Uh, great. Lou, more drinks this way.”

Rein went back on her phone to type a message to Aidon, “Uncle, there are Swedes here tailing Delian. I saw two but I’m not sure if there are more.” Ever her doting uncle, he replied, “You’re on a first-name basis with him now?” Rein wanted to throw her phone. She can never catch a break with this man. “Seriously uncle, can you not make a joke out of everything? This is Stockholm we’re talking about.”

The typing bubbles on her screen were making her anxious. “Eirene, you should know since you’re an Evander. If a Swede steps foot in Sielyum, we’d know. That also means whatever happens to them had been decided.” Her uncle continued, “I suppose if you want to see how Delian truly is, you could stay there for a while.”

Rein thought back at all the rumored reports and concluded that they were exaggerated. But when she looked up from her phone, both the Swedish duo and Delian were out of sight. Only his suit coat was neatly placed on top of the stool. Panicked, she inquired Lou where the drunk guy was.

“Better go home, lass. Ye cannae be seeing those kinds of thugs and what they do,” he advised while wiping a few shot glasses clean. “No use getting bothered for people like that.” His thick Scottish accent made the warning sound like a threat.

Grunts and metal clanging suddenly boomed from the back.

Running towards the metal door, Rein replied with, “Too late, Lou.”