Giovanni Mattei didn't mind public transport. Not one bit. It's not that he preferred it to being chauffeured through the city, but he simply didn't care. That alone confused people who didn't know him personally, but only on a professional level.
He was visiting his wife now and looking forward to it. It wasn't that often that he got to do that... well, at least he told himself that. He looked for any chance to spend time with her, not willing to let anything else get between them. He used to have more on his plate, and leading an organisation or group as he did usually took a lot of time. But he had his wife and son for that now. Well, mostly his son. And what a son he was.
Reina had just returned from a month-long business trip overseas. Italy, China, Switzerland, and, of course, Japan. She was visiting her family and the estates there, making sure everything was going as intended and looking for further areas to expand and improve. She was thorough like that. But when one was the CEO and founder of Kurogane Meridian Group, that was to be expected.
Now, she was back, and Giovanni knew where she would be in the next hour.
Reina preferred to work and conduct all her business where the others were, so she didn't have to move around too much. Manhattan, for a business lunch. Or something like that. So many people wanted something from her that it was hard to keep track. Thankfully, they had a solution for that: Adriano. His mind was like a black hole, sucking in everything that got into his line of vision. Once it was in his mind, there was no leaving it. Ever.
Giovanni stayed behind just long enough for the rain to start. By the time he reached the bus stop, it was coming down hard, the kind of heavy raindrops that soaked you through if you weren't wearing a jacket. He stood at the station, which no longer had a roof. He had his umbrella open, a simple coat, and shoes which were no longer pristine but clean. He didn't look like the ruthless businessman he was known for, right now. And he certainly didn't look like he had ridiculous amounts of money.
No driver, no entourage to accompany him, he was just another regular man waiting for the bus.
That was when he noticed a girl. She stood a bit to his side, maybe thirteen years old, with a school uniform that had been drenched by rain. Her backpack clutched to her chest, and she raised one hand uselessly above her head, trying to stop a few drops from hitting her head. There were other people, plenty of them actually, but no one moved or did anything. All were focused on their phones or themselves.
Giovanni motioned with his head, angling the umbrella slightly.
"Come under here," he said gently.
The girl startled, immediately backed away, shaking her head. Her eyes were wary, bright. She knew where she was and what she should not do, no matter what. Giovanni didn't take it to heart and nodded, accepting the boundary she set and agreeing with her.
"Then take this."
He took the umbrella and extended it toward her instead.
"It's alright," she said quickly. "Really."
He paused for a moment, and then he understood. Without another word, Giovanni stepped forward and calmly moved two people aside, not overly aggressive, just enough to make sure they wouldn't say anything. He placed the umbrella against the shelter frame so that she could take it, then stepped back to where he had been standing.
Now he was the one in the rain.
The girl stared at him, confused as to why someone would do that. Slowly, she took the umbrella while watching him and then stepped back.
"Thank you. But… what about you?"
"Study hard," was all he said, a small smile on his lips.
Giovanni loved kids, and while it was no longer allowed to say that in public, it was who he was. Deep down, beat a passionate heart. And it was that heart that made him successful in the first place. His heart and indomitable will. He never gave up, no matter what.
"Boss."
A man walked up to Giovanni. Marco Bellini was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his early thirties. He was dressed sharply, unlike his boss. Together with his Roman face and sharp eyes, he was the wet dream of many a lady, and he knew it. He looked at Giovanni confusedly and held out his umbrella for him.
"You lost your umbrella?" Marco asked.
"No. Gave it away."
Marco frowned and looked at the girl.
"You shouldn't give random shit to girls. That doesn't look good. You need to take care of your image. What would the others think?"
"What do you care? None of these shits gave her one, so what?" Giovanni said.
The bus arrived moments later. The girl wanted to give back the umbrella, but Giovanni shook his head. So she grabbed the umbrella, hesitated, then bowed ever so slightly before boarding. Giovanni watched the bus pull away. Then he turned to Marco, seeing his look.
"What?"
"I'll get you another."
"No," Giovanni replied calmly. "The bus is here."
"What will the miss say when you arrive drenched?!" Marco argued, but Giovanni had already boarded their bus.
.
Manhattan changed gradually as the bus crossed neighbourhoods. People boarded and left the bus; voices were both loud and soft; the buildings grew larger, with big, impressive signs on them. Giovanni and Marco got off near Park Avenue. The rain had stopped by that point, and the clouds were moving out of the Sun's way.
The restaurant was expensive and the go-to place when Reina had to hold a business lunch. It was one of her favourites. Kurohana (黒花 meaning "Black Flower") was a restaurant that made the rich and powerful of New York lower their voices. It was exquisite, yet still not quite the type of cuisine that served the smallest portions. You could get your fill there, and the menu ranged from simple sushi to almost anything else on the Japanese menu.
Giovanni walked in with Marco following right behind him. At the host stand, a young woman in a perfectly pressed black uniform stood with her hair neatly pinned back. Her tablet rested lightly in her hands, where she went over the reservations. They were full today, as they were every day. She looked up as Giovanni approached, and contrary to her training, the slightest frown could be seen for a fraction of a second.
"I'm here to see someone," Giovanni said calmly, about to walk in, when she stopped him.
The receptionist smiled politely, the professional kind, not the welcoming one. Giovanni knew that one, but was surprised to see it on her.
"Do you have a reservation, sir?" she asked.
He looked at her in thought and then answered.
"No."
"I'm afraid we're fully booked," she replied smoothly, already shifting her attention to her tablet again.
Marco Bellini stepped half a pace forward to have a word with the woman, who didn't seem to realise what kind of shit she just stepped on.
"He's meeting someone," Marco said evenly. "Are you new, perhaps?"
The receptionist looked up again, her eyes moving over Giovanni once more. He wore plain shoes and a simple jacket. She didn't see a watch, since it was hidden underneath the coat, but had already made a judgment for herself. Marco did look smart, with his suit and all, but she couldn't let Giovanni in.
"I understand," she said. "But this restaurant is reserved for guests and private meetings. We can recommend--"
"I know where I am," Giovanni interrupted gently. "I made it."
Her smile tightened.
"With respect, sir," she said, lowering her voice just enough to sound considerate, "this isn't the kind of place one simply walks into."
Marco's jaw tightened slightly. He didn't like such situations, and his boss had to wait longer than he should have. This was his failing, but he knew that Giovanni would never hold it against him. But if he was made to wait to see his wife any longer, he might explode. And no one wanted that.
"May we speak to your supervisor, please? I'm sure everything will sort itself out."
She looked at Marco now, properly this time.
"And you are?"
"Someone telling you that you're making a mistake."
That earned him a firmer smile. To her credit, she didn't show her displeasure openly and remained respectful throughout. That was something both men could at least respect, but it was getting tedious.
"I don't think so."
"It's fine," Giovanni said to Marco. "She's doing her job."
He turned back to the receptionist and smiled lazily, showing clearly where Adriano got that from.
"My wife is inside," he started.
The receptionist didn't laugh; she only nodded.
"I believe you, sir," she said, tone polite but final. "If she's a guest, she can come meet you here."
Giovanni nodded.
"I don't like to do that at any time, and usually, I would wait for you to do what you have to, but do you really not know who I am? If possible, I would like to speak to your supervisor."
"I will contact him. Please wait a moment."
Behind the host stand, a door slid open, and a middle-aged man stepped out. He wore a crisp suit. He looked like his entire livelihood depended on knowing exactly what anyone needed in any given room and reacting appropriately. Giovanni knew him, of course; he had hired him together with his son years ago.
When his gaze landed on the entrance, the man froze. A happy smile appeared on his face as he walked forward speedily.
"Sir," he said. "I wasn't aware you were coming. I would have reserved another table for you and Miss Mattei."
The receptionist turned, startled. The supervisor moved quickly and even bowed deeply, far deeper than any protocol required. But Giovanni waved his hand.
"Don't worry, Kuro. She doesn't know I would come either. It's a surprise."
"This is Mr Mattei," the man said carefully. "The owner."
"Oh," she whispered and was about to apologise, when Kuro interrupted.
He stepped aside immediately, gesturing toward the private dining corridor.
"Please," he said. "May I accompany you?"
Giovanni paused for a second and looked back at the receptionist. She was very pale now, but didn't let anything else show on her face. She was a true professional, and he truly respected that.
"You did nothing wrong," he said gently. "Next time, just don't judge someone solely by the clothes they wear. And make sure you know who you work for."
.
Reina was looking at the man in front of her. He had been the one talking for almost half an hour, and she was just about to have enough. Her professionalism could only handle so much. She sat perfectly straight, her dark hair immaculate with a composed expression. Across from her sat Edward Halvorsen. He was mid-sentence when Giovanni walked in.
"So I think we should--"
He had given his coat to Kuro. A bright smile appeared on his face when she spotted Reina and didn't hesitate. He took the chair, which Kuro had brought out for him and sat down as if he'd always been invited.
"Reina," he said warmly. "You said lunch, not trial proceedings."
Her eyes snapped to him, sharp and warning, telling him he would hear about this. However, they softened just enough to betray her true feelings.
"Gio," she said through her teeth. "I'm in a meeting."
He glanced at Halvorsen, then at the salmon nigiri on her plate.
"You haven't touched the salmon yet," Giovanni observed. "That means you don't trust him yet."
Halvorsen laughed.
"I'm sorry, and you are…?"
"Her husband. She's already taken. Sorry about that. You can't have her."
There was silence. The banker clenched his jaw, but tried to smile.
"Edward," Reina said, standing, "we'll continue this another time."
Halvorsen hesitated, surprised at the change of tone. Then he nodded, already sensing that saying anything wouldn't help his case.
"Of course. Thank you for your time."
Reina looked at Giovanni, arms crossed.
"You walked in soaking wet, on a weekday. Into a negotiation. Are you proud of yourself?"
"Very. You looked bored. I fixed it."
She held his gaze for a long moment.
"…You embarrassed me."
"You smiled."
She turned away so he wouldn't see it.
"Come on. Let's get out of here," Giovanni said and pulled her along.
They left the expensive restaurant, bought some food from a stand, and later sat on a bench in Central Park. They both enjoyed simply talking and spending time together.
"Did you talk to Adri yet?" Giovanni asked.
"No. He was at court earlier, so I called Aiko. Told her to make sure he doesn't cancel on us tomorrow."
"Hm, how was the trial?"
"As usual, of course. He kicked ass. And this time, his opponent was Harvey Specter."
"Who's that?" Giovanni asked.
"He's a high-stakes corporate litigator. He represents powerful institutions and elite individuals, not ordinary clients. I am surprised that you haven't heard about him yet," Reina said between bites.
"Well, you know that Adri does all my legal stuff. The less I hear about lawyers and their fancy suits, the better."
"Of course. I would agree with you, oh wait... our son is also a lawyer."
"Eh, you know he's less a lawyer and more on the search for something that keeps his mind busy. I taught him how to cook, that's all I care about."
"Urgh, you two."
A black sedan stopped on the street in front of them, and two people approached, badges already visible.
"Mr Giovanni Mattei?"
"Yes."
"NYPD. We want to ask you a few questions. About a homicide."
Reina stiffened when she heard that, so did Giovanni, but not out of fear or shame. They stood up.
"A schoolgirl," the agent added. "Earlier today."
Giovanni raised a hand, not toward the agents, but behind him, signalling Marco, who had appeared to leave it. He nodded his head.
"I'll come," he said.
Reina wanted to accompany him, but was stopped by the officers.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Only him."
Instead of arguing, Reina had her phone in hand and was speed-dialling #1.
"Adriano, something's happened."