In downtown Sacramento, off one of the popular club streets, sits a row of dive bars. Not a place you would find tourists or college kids looking to see and be seen.
No, this was a hole in the wall bar usually with a bike or two parked out front, a place where someone could drink and not be bothered, and maybe cut a deal or two. If you were lucky, maybe find an ally.
Tonight, there was a Gran Torino parked out front.
But for the Savage, the Prince of Sacramento and Boss of the local Mafia, this was her thing, this was where she did business and could be herself. Well, to a certain extent of course. Here, she had a table that was set aside for her, the bartender knew her drink of choice and he kept the glass full. She had full view of the door and could be seen.
Wearing a black tank top over dressy type pants, tattoos on display, the Savage took a sip from her glass, dark eyes roaming over the bar. So far, her night had been quiet, and she was enjoying that, no business, Domain or otherwise. But who knows, maybe someone will come in and catch her eye for a conversation. An inked hand absently picks up the newspaper as she lowers her eyes to read it.