Inside, the club was dimly lit and covered in velvet furniture. It reminded Deena of the kind of brothel an amateur director would create.
She examined the place until her eyes landed on the bald man who wouldn't let her in. He was speaking to a group of men sitting around a table in the far center of the room. His back was to her.
Noticing the silence that fell in the room, baldy turned around to see what they were all staring at.
Spotting her, he pulled his gun out and screamed. "Get on the fucking ground. Didn't I tell you not to fucking go anywhere."
Deena smirked putting her hands up in surrender. She ignored fat man and looked at each of his friends in the group. There were five of them. None stood out as a potential Ferhat.
This most certainly surprised her. She was expecting this Ferhat guy to be an obnoxious shmuck who made sure to stand out amongst the crowd. The surprise amused her. Slowly, she made her way to the group.
Bald man started to say something in that incoherent panicked frenzy way he spoke. One of the men stopped him.
"Which one of you is Ferhat?" she asked circling the group. Deena trailed her hand over the men's shoulders one by one... smiling. All of them seemed to tense when she touched them. All except one.
Her discovery excited her. She found him. He was slightly taller than the rest. His hair was a soft mass that fell on his face. And his eyes looked like his mother's been lining them with kohl since the day he was born.
Deena didn't let her discovery slip onto her expression. She wanted to play a little.
"There's a story..." She began.
Noticing Ferhat was intrigued, she continued.
"You know the thing I like about stories is you never really know to differentiate fable from fact."
"And what about that do you like?" Ferhat spoke.
"Why, the suspense of course." Deena gushed- playing the part of the bimbo came naturally for her.
Deena and Ferhat locked eyes for a second.
"The story is about a prince" Deena continued "who was in a lot of trouble. You see the Prince foolishly trusted a man with all of his money with the very businesses that the prince used to show the townspeople where his wealth came from. The man he trusted had documents stashed someplace safe. Documents for a rainy day."
Ferhat's back straightened when the realization struck him.
"But luckily for the trusting prince there was a princess named Valentina Santiago that could offer some assistance."
"Everybody out." Ferhat growled.
When the room emptied Deena sat in one of the empty chairs across from Ferhat.
His face was still twisted in a frown. It was clear to Deena that he didn't take lightly to threats against his business even if it comes in the form of help.
"Valentina?"
"Ferhat."
"What's your real name? You don't look like a Valentina."
Deena concealed her surprise.. and fear.
"That's not what I'm here to talk about. I'm-"
"I know what you're hear to talk about." He points at the papers in her hands. "Are those the documents?"
Deena nods her head.
"What makes you think I can't just force those out of your hand and kick you out."
