Bia contemplated the woman, catching her meaning. "Right. Right, yeah, I know how that goes. That fuckin' blows, man." There were limits to the law. Human, divine, didn't matter; if you were powerful enough and you had the right connections, there were loopholes that would open up for you. She didn't blame the woman for staying tight-lipped.
Shit, 'rich rapey big-wig' described half of Olympus. For all Bia knew, they could be talking about the Boss right now. It was a distinct and uncomfortable possibility.
In other words, this was the kind of problem Bia hated most of all: one she couldn't beat the shit out of.