#rinaolivetti

BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Rina Olivetti.  AGE: 35. PLACE OF BIRTH: Rome, Italy. AFFILIATION: The Sovrani. OCCUPATION: Giorgio Pecatti’s bodyguard. FACE CLAIM: Ísis Valverde. AVAILABILITY: OPEN.

BIOGRAPHY:

(Warning: Heavy mentions of drugs/addiction.)

"You know you’re a literal piece of shit, right?” 

“Elaborate.” 

The fact she was picking him up from the apartment he’d bought for his mistress, at two-thirty in the morning, apparently wasn’t obvious enough for him. 

“I don't know how Patrizia turns a blind eye knowing you’re doing this. I’d rip your throat out.” 

“And that’s precisely why I married her, and not you.” 

Grazie, Dio.  

They were dependent enough on each other that they might as well have been, though. From the moment he had plucked her off the rundown streets in Ostia, to the night she’d agreed to follow him to London in the same way she had everywhere since, they’d hardly been apart. It was ironic, really, that his wife seemed to have more of a problem with that than his actual girlfriends...

Whilst her turbulent start in life might’ve been a common thread between them, however, Giorgio had done her yet another kindness by keeping it quiet from the family he would eventually shape her up enough to be a part of. Back then, nearing the time when he would switch from fighting in the underground rings to becoming a fully-fledged member of the Sovrani, she had been a depressed teenager with an addiction to heroin, self-loathing, and dangerous men. The kind of men who thought they could earn some stripes with their Camorra overlords by putting competition like Pecatti in the ground.  

And yes, that had gone about as well for her boyfriend as one might've expected. 

Rina had been seventeen and terrified by what she’d witnessed. Though she was no stranger to a criminal lifestyle—she'd been running around with low-level gangsters since she was twelve, consistently forced out of her home by parents as fucked up as she was—something about him was different. When Giorgio had rounded on her, she’d attempted to fight him purely because she expected to end up right next to Francesco if she didn’t. Aching for another fix, depleted both mentally and physically, an absolute wreck of a woman; the fact she’d managed to get a hit in must’ve surprised him. 

Maybe if it hadn’t, she never would’ve stood out enough to be seen as anything other than a parasite. 

Giorgio offered to take her home after; a complicated ask, given that she usually just ended up staying with whoever was offering up more heroin for a good time. So, kindly not asking too many questions, he paid her way in one of Rome’s nicer hotels. Even bought her some fucking food. They’d hardly talked then, and she was glad for that—what the fuck would she have even said to somebody like him—but she had never been proud, and that wasn’t going to start when a generous psycho was offering her a free meal and a roof over her head. 

Eventually they parted ways. Rina wishes she’d stayed that night, but there was precisely one thing that hotel lacked, and it took priority over all others. 

Even though she had no idea he’d gone back to check on her the next day until later in their relationship, she figured it must’ve been fate they still ended up together. The Sovrani hated drugs, and that much was no secret; the Camorra were perpetually struggling to push their product in Rome under the massive weight of their presence. Rina had heard about the crews that went around beating up dealers, and shutting down drug dens. Still, the last thing she’d expected was to be face to face with him, again, less than a year later, watching as he and his friends beat the shit out of the drug dealers in the room. 

This time, however, there was a complication. 

Giorgio had made it clear he knew her. And Rina had been stupid enough to answer him back. Despite the fact she’d had nothing to do with him finding out where they were hiding their product—she hadn’t seen him since the hotel, for fuck’s sake—the men she’d been with had decided her guilt by default. How else would the Sovrani have known? Why would she be in contact with somebody like him at all? They turned on her in an instant. The only connections, the only means of survival, Rome had offered her. Paranoid, always. 

At the time she was sure he’d ruined her life. Looking back now, she realises it was instead the moment he saved it. 

That process was not an easy one, though. Especially on the days she fought it.  

Hard. 

In the beginning she’d blamed him so much she refused his help out of spite. Refused him because she had been living the way she had for almost a decade, and didn’t know how to be anything else except terrified of the change. Rina wasn’t sure when things between them got easier but they did. Maybe it was his persistence, or maybe it was because she’d never really felt like anybody had given a shit about her before, but as the months passed, she realised that even if she didn’t want to do it for herself just yet, a part of her wanted to do better for him. Rina didn’t know why he believed she could change. Should change. Some days she was angry about the burden it put on her. Eventually, though, it gave her the means to turn her life around. 

Recovery was not without its bumps in the road. But as soon as she realised that this constant need was going to last a lifetime, and that there would never be an end point where things suddenly felt better, it made her realise that if she was going to stick with her sobriety, she needed something else to focus her energy on. Giorgio had given her that by giving her himself. The Sovrani. Independence. Eventually, he would even share the one thing he was best at: fighting. It was a much healthier outlet than she’d been expecting, and true to form, as if he knew her better than she knew herself, she took to it with ease. 

Rina watched as Giorgio excelled as the years passed—both in his personal and professional life—and despite the fact many of her days still felt like she was merely surviving, it brought her some happiness to know he was doing okay. Maybe because she’d never really had family. Friends. Anybody or anything she truly cared about. It was a foreign feeling she didn’t want to lose. Eventually, when he deemed her past the riskiest parts of her recovery, he decided to help her capitalise on her talents by pushing for her as one of his bodyguards. Rina knew it was because he wanted to be able to keep her around without so many questions from the Sovrani, but it didn’t change how immensely grateful she was for the opportunity. And perhaps that was when she realised, even though her physical recovery had been immense over the years, so had her mental one.  

After that, they were rarely apart. 

They’d grown together, she supposed, because just as she wasn’t that same wreck he’d picked up off the streets, he had changed, too. Made plenty of mistakes, disappointed her, given her more reasons to love him. Enough so that eventually she would even leave Italy just so that she could remain at his side. Did she use him as a crutch some days? Sure. They both understood that. But it was always a favour returned when he needed it. And despite the impression he gave to others, those days happened. 

Rina had never imagined she would end up where she is today. Honestly, she hadn’t expected to make it past her early twenties. But now, she has friends, a purpose, things to be proud of. She survived run-ins with the French that made her question her willpower; even stayed with one, in spite of her better judgement. She’d made it through Launceston, made it through Porto Velho, and most importantly of all, on her growingly infrequent difficult days—and oh, she’s sure London will bring its fair share now she’s here—Rina still always has a reason in him to pick the right path instead of the easy one. 

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Paul-Henri Ishida (ex-boyfriend) FAMILY: None. CONNECTIONS:

Giordana Rossi: Good friend. Even though Rina wasn’t sure what to make of her when she first stepped foot in Launceston, she’s glad that she didn’t immediately write her off as a raging psychopath. Obviously, the years have taught her she is, but the older woman has learned that there is more to her than that. Probably the person she considers herself closest to after Giorgio, and she definitely appreciates their little foursome, Vincenzo included. It definitely keeps her sane when most Americans make her want to scream.

Paul-Henri Ishida: Ex-boyfriend/good friend. When she’d promised Giorgio she would stay away from the French (their taste for drugs common knowledge, and absolutely a temptation she didn’t need) she had meant it. Until she met Henri in Launceston. The only reason they’d ended their very secret relationship was because she’d moved to Porto Velho with Giorgio, but now that they’re both in London together, she’s wondering if it’s worth the risk to rekindle things with one of the few people she met in that city she truly grew to care about.