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DISCLAIMER: The following FICTIONAL story is intended only for open-minded Adults aged 18 years or older (21 in some jurisdictions), and may contain instances of underage characters depicted performing sexual acts, as well as other content which might be considered objectionable. The author(s) of this work do not advocate or condone any of the acts depicted in the writings present. None of these stories are based on real events in any way, and the author's find it reprehensible to even think of committing the acts in reality. The stories are works of fantasy only and should be considered as such. If you do not wish to view such content, please navigate from the page immediately.

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The Cops' New Toys

A Police Corruption and Mafia story by:

Marciana Abbatelli (Marci) & Ra'Arsenio Basilio (Arsen)

Part 2: The Dinner

Electricity jolted up her arm from her paw where his rested on it. Her eyes lifted to his and slowly, her tongue slid out to slide over her lips. “Dinner and wine sounds wonderful. May I order the meal, or would you prefer to order for us?" She waved off the guards that were nearby with her free paw, letting them know that the light hold he had on her paw was nothing for them to worry about. At least, she didn't think it was.

Arsen withdrew his paw when she accepted his invitation so that he didn't cause offence. He knew what the reward was to be and he had waited long enough to claim it that waiting a bit longer would be no problem at all. Besides he might as well flirt and romance her as much as he could now to make any sort of transitions easier in the long run. Licking his lips he smiled and bowed his head. “Please, this is your establishment, I will defer to your knowledge of the cook's abilities. Only something with fish, if possible, for me," he smiled.

She smiled and nodded, lifting her head again, their waiter hurrying over to their table. “We'll start with the Insalata Caprese, followed by the Conghilie with Clams and Mussels. The main course will be Swordfish with Puttanesca Sauce with Pappa Al Pomodoro and Fagiolini In Umido. And for dessert, we'll have the Biscotti Di Prato with Cappuccino. And with dinner, the wine shall be a Sauvignon Vert from the vineyards here in Bari. And do not let the chef know I am here, or he'll be too busy trying to kiss ass to make dinner. Grazie."

As the otter headed to put in the order for them, she smiled across the table at Arsen. “I hire only the best, but oftentimes, the best need reassurance. And if the best happen to be temperamental, then they need ego stroking with the reassurance. The chef here is one of the temperamental best, and the waiters, for the most part, know not to let him know I am here until after I have eaten. I'll praise him and stroke his ego after I've eaten, or I'd end up starving."

The serval nodded to her selections of food for the pair of them. It all sounded right up his alley and he smiled over at her, “I think I should have you order my dinners more often. Your selections sounded perfect." he slid his chair slightly to the side and crossed one leg over the other, staring out over the railing and at the ocean of water that rolled away from the coast, nearly never-ending. He watched it for a while and then chuckled and looked back at her, “Did you hire him yourself and learn that the hard way?" he inquired of her, in reference to the chef.

“So tell me, is your Father's condition stable? I would hate to lose such a man before his time."

Rising to her paws, she took her jacket off, leaving her in the white shirt and black leather pants, her jacket being handed to one of her guards who had risen at the same time. Resuming her seat, she chuckled. “I stole him from another restaurant. I'd seen his performance in action before I hired him. The owner there thought I was doing them a favor, but in actuality, I knew from how needy he was just how good he was. But I will tell you, it was nearly three hours before I got to eat that night. I handled his need better than his boss at the time. So while I offered less than they were paying him, he knew he didn't have to worry about a mortgage or anything else, since he was getting free room and board here. He has two days off a week, but even then, you'll find him in the kitchen, working out new dishes or planning new menus for special occasions we have here, such as weddings, family reunions or anniversaries. We've even hosted a couple movie productions and modeling shoots. They come back for the food and the scenery."

She smiled as she watched him look over towards the railing and towards the ocean. Her demeanor changed slightly, going from gregarious and vivacious about her resort to respectful and loving as the conversation turned towards her father's health. “Mio padre is rather stable, though mia madre (my mother) thinks he's not lucid often. But I have not found him to be loopy, despite the morfina (morphine - Portuguese) the doctors' have him on to help ease the pain. I consult with him about the decisions I've made and things that are coming up, but he knows I have the utmost respect for the business, other than my resort, and refuse to let it fall apart enquanto ele se recupera (while he recovers - Portuguese)."

“At least the doctors then do not believe this will be a permanent detriment to his health." Arsen said, and he did feel relief. He had been anticipating this moment, meeting her, and his deal with her father for quite some time. If for some reason her Padre died before the deal was complete, some long periods of work would go down the drain, along with his hopes of owning this gorgeous creature.

“I am glad to hear that he trusts you as well. I'm sure that he is an excellent teacher." He said this while looking out still toward the ocean. His white-furred head turned to glance back toward her and take in her countenance once again, “I have plans for the future that i hope my partnership with your father will bring to fruition. There are...other things than wine and power which I believe could be very successful here and abroad." He extended a claw and gently ran it in circles on the table, “Importing assets can be a lucrative business…"

She leaned forward on the table, her voice dropping so the guards didn't hear her. “You do know my father did some background checking on you. You know that he and I know you're with the polícia (police - Portuguese). But you got our shipment through to France, and I'm certain you know what the shipment was. Now, this means one of two things. Either you're corrupt and valuable to us, or you're setting us up for a takedown." Her grey eyes remained locked on his as she leaned back in her chair again. “With talk of importing assets, I assume the former rather than the latter."

She paused as their otter waiter arrived, setting down the Insalata Caprese, and a smile formed on her lips. “Buona. (Good - Italian) Tell him his whimsy has brought a smile to the guests." After the otter left them to have their salads, she looked to him again. “You do know that we'll need to see mio padre before we continue any talks of continuing the relationship between you and the family."

“I know that tuo padre is no stolto (fool)" He answered softly, in the same low tones that she used, leaning across toward her as well. His orange eyes met her grey irises with a steady gaze, showing no fear nor intimidation. What did he have to be fearful of? This was going to be mutually beneficial. He knew going in that her father would have checked on him, and of course revealed his findings. What Marciana was telling him here though, was that her innocent facade was nothing but just that. She was under no delusions about what her father did and the family's connections and 'business'.

He inclined his head once the otter had left, “I know, but I thought you would like to be informed as well as to what my further business dealings might be. However we shall dispense with the talk of business and concentrate on lighter matters. I can definitely see the appeal of this place for movie producers and photographers. The whole thing has a feel that one might see in a James Bond film."

She gave a single nod of acknowledgement of his reasoning and shelved the 'shop talk' for the time being. “Very much so, but we get more weddings here than anything else. We have very special honeymoon suites. Instead of the happy couple sleeping up in a penthouse suite or something like that, we have more exotic rooms for them. Tell me, have you ever dreamt of sleeping with the fishes and sharks? And I don't mean in the stupid way Hollywood portrays it." She picked up her fork and picked up a tomato and some mozzarella cheese, then lifted it to her muzzle and delicately took it off the fork.

Ra'Arsenio inclined his head toward her as he looked around and drew his own plate closer. This location was so exotic that it did feel romantic in its own way and he could most certainly have seen himself spending his honeymoon here. Perhaps they would? A smile played over his predatory feline features for a moment and then he shook his head, “I have not. At least not as you are describing it. Do you have an underwater suite?" he asked, as he took took a portion of his food and placed it in his maw.

She smiled and nodded. “Actually, we don't have one. We have four. We separated them out so that the couples would have some semblance of privacy on their honeymoon. And we put them at different levels so that the aquatic life around them is different. There's a small coral reef near one, and fish swim near another. The third has stingrays gliding through the water, while the last has the most sharks swimming around it. My personal favorite is the coral reef room."

The lithe feline's eyebrows raised and his ears twitched with interest when she spoke of the four honeymoon suites that they offered underwater and built to showcase various parts of the local sea flora and fauna. “I confess that I never considered such an idea, but I find it fascinating," he paused and chuckled. “I suppose you might find that odd, considering my species." Gesturing to himself with one paw, he illustrated, “But my ancestors lived in the heart of central Africa, and in fact we have quite the affinity for water, and fish…" He licked his fangs and then sliced off another portion of the tomato and cheese and placed it into his mouth.

She smiled at his words and chuckled softly to herself. “I guess I'll just have to show you them so you can see which one you like best for that special day… unless you're already married…" It sounded like she was fishing for information, which she was. She knew from what her father had told her, Arsen wasn't married, but she wanted him to confirm the information she had. But also, she wanted to know because she had felt that spark between them as he'd rested his paw on hers, keeping her at the table for an impromptu date with him. “Tell me about yourself, Signore Basilio."

“I would like that." he replied to her with a warm smile of his own, his eyes alighting on her canine features and examining them while they ate and enjoyed themselves. For two high-profile individuals, the pair of them were not acting far different from any normal date night. The only difference was the unspoken dueling for information and the fact that both of them knew that the other was involved in thing of a far deeper nature. He had seen several photos of her when he was investigating her family. She was known to be Giancarlo Abbatelli's daughter and that put her in a position of some danger, and much power. She was on the watch list.

“There is no Signora Basilio in my life," he said with a smile over at her, confirming her suspicions. “At least, not...yet," he said the last word with a deep purr as his eyes stared into hers for several long moments. “There is not a great deal to tell," he said, ears twitching and his long tail curling around absently behind him. “I am a man with fairly simple tastes. I like luxury, but I'm used to some hardship. I enjoy my job and take enjoyment from it.I get to travel the world and see exotic locations, meet new people and have dealings with the high and the low. It is not a bad life."

Marciana loved her life, but never took the opportunity to travel outside Italy, though her parents had once traveled. After all, her mother was Brazilian while her father was Italian. The actual details of how they met was something they kept between them. “Sounds like it might be fun, all that traveling. But doesn't it get tiresome after a while? I mean, where do you call home? A hotel? That's not a home. A home is a place that you look forward to going to every night, where someone who loves you is waiting for your safe return. A hot, home-cooked meal. The laughter of children. You might get a hot meal at a hotel, but it's not homemade. And I bet after a long day, you do look forward to getting to your room, but there is so much missing from that picture," she said with a slight shake of her head. “But if there's no Signora Basilio, I guess there's no home. Yet. I take it no one's caught your eye.."

Her paw flashed briefly and one of the guards at the other table rose to his paws and headed out of the restaurant. He headed to the front desk, pausing to speak to whoever was on duty, then went down a short hallway to Marciana's office. He was only gone for about fifteen minutes, and was holding a leash with three leads attached in his paws as three feral dogs pranced at his side as they headed back to the front desk. He took what the attendant handed him, then he headed back into the restaurant, the dogs going on point before breaking from his side to run to Marciana.

“Abbattere (Down - Italian)," she commanded, and the three dogs sat obediently, their eyes turned up to her. “Signore Basilio, meet Tiziano, Giacoma and Amore, i miei cani (my dogs - Italian). Tizi and Amore are male, while Gia is female." The pictures of her that he'd seen showed Gia with her the most, so it had been assumed that she only had one dog, but the other two were, apparently, just as attached to her as Gia, but Gia's size made it easier for her to be taken with Marciana and appear in the surveillance pictures he had.

Arsen inclined his head toward her when she concluded that if he had no wife, there was no where he truly called home, “I was born in South Africa, but when I was a child my family moved to Europe for my Father's work. He was a factory inspector for an international firm. I was raised in London, but I traveled a lot with him. Perhaps I am simply used to it. However it does become lonely and tiresome." His paws waved to illustrate their surroundings and perhaps all of Italy in its scope, “I do not think that I will ever remain permanently in one location, my work moves me from assignment to assignment. But it would be nice to call somewhere home. Italy has always intrigued me. My Mother was Italian."

The serval noted her gestures and waited patiently, finishing the first course of his meal while the guard was gone. When he returned bringing with him three feral canines, one eyebrow raised. The smallest of the dogs, the one she referenced as 'Giacoma' was the one she had been seen with most often. The other two were unknowns. “They are fine animals. And it seems that they are obedient."

She gave a small nod as a thank you, then looked at her companions. “Amore, diga olá (say hello - Portuguese)," she said and the wolf looking dog moved towards the serval. “Amore is a Cane Lupino del Gigante, a herding dog that has for years interbred with wolves in the region they're from. He's still rather young, but he listens well." The dog stopped in front of the serval and sat down, then lowered his head, as if bowing formally. “Tiziano is a Segugio Maremmano, which are Tuscan boar hunting dogs. He's also young, though not as young as Amore. Both were gifts from the boys on my last birthday. And Gia…. my sweet Giacoma is a Cirneco dell'Etna, another type of hunting dog, though the breed is also known for their endurance over harsh terrain, or working for hours with little food or water. Not that I would do that to my pups. I've had her for just over a year, and she was a gift from mio padre."

Arsen turned slightly in his seat as the wolf-dog moved over to sit down beside him and bow his head. “May I?" he asked, holding out one paw to pet the dog on top of the head, “As I said, these are fine animals. Rare breeds as well, if I am not mistaken." He looked over toward the feral's mistress with interest. So she also enjoyed animals. These three dogs were clearly another of her joys, something she took great pride in. It was nice to know she was passionate about things. “Alas, I have not had the pleasure of owning my own feral. As you can imagine, my line of work does not make it easy to travel and keep one with me."

He leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, one over the other, “You take Gia with you often though, do you not?"

She nodded in response to his question. “Amore and Tiziano act like protection dogs without being too menacing. Gia… Well, she's my sweetheart. But you're not threatening me, so they're not in that mode. They're from breeds that most of the world has yet to recognize, though the Cirneco dell'Etna has been recognized by different registries, such as UKC and AKC, as well as the FCI." She looked down towards Amore and a frown crossed her muzzle. “Unfortunately, the Cane Lupino del Gigante, Amore's breed, has yet to be recognized anywhere. Tiziano's breed, the Segugio Maremmano, has only been recognized by the ENCI. But that breed is rather interesting compared to most of the breeds out in the world. They have over sixty-six hundred founders of the breed. That gives them a lot of diversity in coat color and texture, body shape, musculature. But it also lessens the issues that most purebred dogs face - genetic medical issues."

A wry chuckle escaped her as she faced the pale serval as the otter came up with their Conghilie with Clams and Mussels. He traded their salad plates for the appetizer and two smaller plates, then retreated. Once the young otter was gone again, she met the serval's eyes. “If you keep that up, I'll end up talking your ears off about not just my pups, but their breeds and ferals in general. And then you'd be bored within fifteen minutes."

The white serval reached his paw out further and brushed it over Amore's head, touching around the furry ears and along the top and back of his head. He turned to listen to her recount the status of all three breeds, and what registries they were recognized by, and their breeding. Clearly she had done extensive research on her dogs and wanted only the best. He couldn't blame her. They were fine looking and extremely well behaved animals. Most people wouldn't dare think of bringing one, let alone three, full sized ferals into a restaurant. But she was the owner, and these belonged to her as much as the restaurant did.

He chuckled softly, turning back to the meal and opening the shells to scoop out the delectable innards, “Your voice is sweet enough to listen to for hours." he smiled, “I find it interesting, even if it is knowledge that I may retain only in passing." He bowed his head toward her, “It is strange. You see, much of my interaction with luxury has come from necessity. I must be familiar with it in order to move in the circles which I must occupy. But since I don't have a large home to stock with beautiful things, or which to make my base of operations, yet...I am not afforded the ability to live in such luxury."

She chuckled and shook her head. “You know, with what we both do or are involved in, it is hard not to talk shop. But skirting around the shop talk is rather fun. So since you have to be able to move in luxury for work, but you don't have the wherewithal to live in said luxury all the time. But what would happen if you had that place to live and suddenly had to move in the underbelly of the cities you travel through? Would you then have to find a way to live in the sewers or streets? Or…"

“At the least it improves conversation skills. But it is fun." he admitted with a purr-chuckle of his own. His tail flicked in amusement and his ears flip-flopped at the feeling of the sea breeze blowing around them. “I believe that I could easily get used to living in luxury. But I don't think I can shake my nature. A place to call home would be wonderful, but I would want to be active, out doing things, rather than just lounging all day. If for some reason I had to move out of the luxury, lost everything...well, I've lived and worked in some bad places. I've dealt with some bad things. I would have to survive. That is the way of things."

She chuckled at the explanation. “Not everyone who lives in the lap of luxury does nothing but lounge around all day. While there are some who spend their days doing nothing but spend money on clothes and shoes, there are MANY others who are out there, increasing their wealth and the luxury they live in. Take my family, for instance. We've always had wealth, since way back in the 1700s or so. Luxury was synonymous with our name. But we didn't just sit back and do nothing. Each generation has done something to increase the family's wealth. The most recent being the resort here. When we got it, it was just the hotel above the cliffs. No restaurant within the cliff. No undersea honeymoon suites. None of that was here when I started the renovations. This resort has been my project since I was ten. And before you ask, I'm eighteen now. So, yes, I have a head for business as well as design."

“I just mean that there are some of the upper class that seem to feel their luxury entitles them to do nothing but party, drive fancy cars, and things of that nature. I personally would want to be active, not unlike yourself. To live off the fruits of my labor. Perhaps I am not explaining it well." He said with a smile, “Your family is both industrious and wealthy. You enjoy what you have accomplished, but I would call neither your father, nor yourself, lazy." He inclined his head toward her, then waved one hand about, “This is a unique concept, as are the underwater suites. They show an imagination that is not restricted by what others tell them the rules are. I think that, in some way, we are alike, you and I. We do not like being told 'no'."

She chuckled at his assessment of her core being. “Honestly, I don't mind, so long as the person telling me no is one I respect or has knowledge of something that I don't. The architects that worked on this changed my plans enough to make this their crowning jewel of design. Some of my ideas were shot down completely while others were tweaked to actually be efficient and beautiful at the same time."

The waiter came to remove the plates from their hor d'oeuvres, then brought their main course - the swordfish and sides. As he set the plates in front of them, he looked at Mariana a little nervously. She sighed softly. “Might as well let him come out now. But make sure he doesn't stay too long. He still has to make sure the guests eat his delicious creations."

The otter let out a sigh, and nodded. “Si, Signorina. No one told him, but he knew you were out here." He hurried off as she gave Arsenio a rueful smile. “Looks like you'll get to meet the chef earlier than I planned."

Arsen nodded, “A wise person is not always the most intelligent person in the room. A wise person is the one that surrounds himself with intelligent people to give him advice. Even an intellectual idiot may become powerful if he surrounds himself with those that give good advice." He said, finishing the hor d'oeuvres just before the waiter returned with their main course. He thanked the otter and was about to begin eating, but looked up at her. “Well the food has been delicious so far. I'll indulge him, but I will not be interrupted too long," he chuckled.

“Hence the comment about him still needing to feed the rest of the guests. Besides, we do have an appointment afterwards, and we cannot allow him to hold us up from that appointment," she replied. The fish was cooked to perfection, the fork just tearing a bite off without the need for a knife. She took a bite and savored the flavors on her tongue, her eyes closing briefly. A look of pure bliss crossed her face as she slowly opened her eyes again. She turned to watch Arsen's reaction to the taste of the swordfish, catching sight of the plump ram that ran the kitchen. Holding up her paw to stop the ram from speaking, the diamonds and emeralds in her bracelet sparkling in the light of the restaurant, she focused her attention fully on the serval, which drew the ram's attention to him as well.

As Arsen placed the bite of swordfish into his mouth he hummed with satisfaction. The flavor was buttery and it fell apart in his mouth, perfectly cooked and prepared, and seasoned. Yes, she was right, the cook was an absolute expert. He was good, so it was no wonder that he liked to have his ego stroked a little bit. Arsen swallowed the bite and smiled over at her with a look that told her how good the food was. “This is delicious. Yes, I want to congratulate him on this as well. By far the best dinner I've had in a long time."

She waved the ram over and smirked at Arsen. “Signore Arsen, meet Signore Lotario Cisternino, the Grotta's head chef. Signore Lotario, this is an esteemed friend of mio padre's, Signore Ra'Arsenio Basilio. Lotario, while we don't have a lot of time to praise your fantastica, meravigliosa, il cibo deliziosamente esotici (fantastic, wonderful, deliciously exotic food - Italian), we did want to tell you just how maravilhoso (wonderful - Portuguese) we found our meal to be so far. The creation of ladybugs for the salad was an artistic accomplishment no one else could have equaled, let alone surpassed," she started the praise, and gave enough hints, with how elaborate and verbose she was being, to Arsen to show him how to handle the hor d'oeuvre and main course with the ram, if he wanted to join in on the praise.

Arsen gave the Ram a deep bow, or as deep as he could from his place at the table, “Signore Lotario, sei un creatore magistrale dell'arte, signore! Non ho mai assaggiato deliziosi, ottimi frutti di mare. Se solo tutti i prodotti alimentari in Italia potrebbe paragonare a questo ... " (you are a masterful creator of art, sir! I have never tasted such delicious, excellent seafood. If only all food in Italy could compare to this… - Italian). He made a humming purr from deep in his throat and murmured, “Fantastico," again, before taking yet another bite.

The canine smiled at the ram, “You know mio padre and I only have business meetings here. We have to flaunt your expertise with food to the world. You have been the best decision I've made for the resort, Signore Lotario. But, again, we have an important meeting with Signore Giancarlo, but we cannot leave until we have had your maravilhoso biscotti and cappuccino. Would you make that for us? And some extra biscotti to take to mio padre?" She batted her eyes at the ram who bowed and rubbed his paws together.

“But of course, Signorina Marciana. Grazie, grazie," he bowed as he backed away, not wanting to keep them from their meeting with her father. And he knew just how much both her parents loved his biscotti, so he set up a large batch to go with them to her parents.

Ra'Arsenio left her to explain to the chef about their need to finish the meal and meet with her father. Meanwhile he continued to savor the flavor of the swordfish in front of him. Which he had to say, when mixed with the flavor of the wine, was indeed as 'fantastico' as he had said.

As the ram departed, Arsen shook his head and laughed softly, “At least you can say that he is eccellente at what he does, so the gratuitous praises are no lie." He sipped from the wine and then took a few more bites, relishing the flavor, “Does your mother attend to your father, then?" came the next inquiry, “I have never met her, but I am sure she must be a beautiful woman to have attracted your father's attentions, and to have borne such a lovely daughter."

She chuckled and nodded. “And now you know why I make him wait until after the meal. Otherwise, he'd be out after each course. I don't pay him as much as his previous job did, but he had free room and board in the resort, and an issue he was having trouble with has been resolved to his satisfaction. He also has the freedom to create his own masterpiece meals and not just the ones that are well known. He does love to experiment with flavors and dishes."

She followed the change of topic with ease, murring softly. “Minha mãe ama meu pai completamente e se recusa a deixar que qualquer pessoa que não seja eu o ajude com qualquer coisa (My mother loves my father completely and refuses to let anyone other than me help him with anything - Portuguese). Compared to the stocky build my father has, my mother is lean and very exotic. He is a Bracco Italiano, a canine breed that in feral form is a gun dog. My mother, on the other hand, is a Brazilian maned wolf. So I guess I'd be a wolfdog, though I tend to claim that I'm just a canine. My fur coloration is more like my father's than my mother's."

Arsen smiled at her. It was plain to see that she loved her parents deeply, judging by the way that her vocal tone changed when she talked about her mother caring for her father. “My Mother, as I said before, is Italian. My father is South African. They met when she was on vacation and he was there for some work that he was doing. One whirlwind romance later, they are married and I'm born. The rest, they say, is history." He smiled a little, and gave a little shrug, not wanting to say more at the present date. After all, he was speaking to the daughter of an Italian mafia boss.

She nodded. “I know how that is. Only with mine, my father had gone to Columbia and got lost at the edge of the Amazon rainforest. My mother had been in the interior of the rainforest and brought him back to Rio. They fell in love on the trek through the rainforest and married in Rio. They came back to Italy and raised me here, though I have been to the rainforest with them a couple times to see where they met and got married and all."

The otter came from the kitchen with their biscotti and cappuccinos, set them before them, then retreated to give them privacy to finish their talk before they went to meet with her father. She lifted a paw and one of her guards came to her side. She kept her voice down as she spoke to him, “Voglio sapere che cosa il nome del cameriere lontra è, e voglio che generosamente punta. (I want to know what the otter waiter's name is, and I want him generously tipped. - Italian)"

She looked back to Arsen and smiled. “I believe in rewarding good service, and that young otter is very good at both professionalism and discretion. I do believe he shall get a raise soon."

The serval chuckled at the news that her father had gotten lost in the rainforest, which led to his meeting her mother and their eventual marriage. He finished his swordfish and then sat back when the otter returned with their final dish. He sipped his wine and nodded, sitting forward once more to enjoy the biscotti.

“Rewards should be given out where they are due." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a leather wallet, extracting two 100 euro bills. He slid them across the table. “A tip from me," he said, “To add to your own. One bill each for the chef and the waiter." He took a bite of the delicious dessert and purred, flicking his tail. The meeting would be over soon enough and they would be travelling to meet her father, for the conclusion of their business.

“Si, Signore e Signorina (yes, sir and miss - Italian)," the guard replied before going to find the otter and get his name for her and give him the tip from both of them. He also stopped in the kitchen to hand the chef his tip as well. After a few minutes he returned and went back to her side, leaning down to say, “Antonio Crocetti, Signorina." His message delivered, he straightened back up and returned to the table with the other guard.

Arsen finished off his biscotti while they waited for the guard to return with the name of the otter, after having taken the tips to the two people that served them that evening. With the last of the meal gone, he sipped his wine, and then finished off the last of it as well. Smacking his lips and purring contentedly, he nodded, “That was a wonderful dinner, and excellent wine." Looking around, out at the ocean, then back to her he said, “Well, shall we go? I think it is time we spoke with your father."