Page 18 of Rubies and Revenge

“Return my daughter before I’m forced to wipe your little gang off the map,” she demands. If I wasn’t Andrea Tamayo, assured in myself and my people, I might be scared. But I’m not. Especially of a Gallo.

“Really, Mother, you’re so dramatic,” Zarina grumbles.

“Marcus is distraught, Zarina.” Her mother tries a new tactic, and it immediately makes my hackles rise. “He fears for your life.”

Zarina mock gags. “Sure, if my life is his perceived possession of my vagina.”

Any mention of Marcus Accardi and this sham of a marriage is too ludicrous to entertain. I snatch the phone out of Zarina’s grip. She grunts, affronted, and throws up her hands as if to say,fine, you deal with her.

Gladly.

I turn up the charm, hoping we don’t have to resort to threats and manipulation too quickly. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Mrs. Gallo. Zarina is safe, and she’s here by choice. I think you know your daughter can’t be easily forced.”

“Don’t speak to me as if I’m your equal,” she growls. “You exist by my grace. You make money, because I allow you to. You own property built on land I own. We are not equals, Andrea Tamayo.”

A muscle in my eye twitches with the force of the clench of my jaw. “Even so. Zarina is here by her own choice and will remain here as long as she pleases.”

“Then we declare belligerence.” She says it as if speaking to a throne room full of courtiers rather than a “lowly gangster” over the phone. “The Council will call upon you to answer for your misconduct.”

I chuckle. “I look forward to it.”

“You’re an idiot,” she snaps.

Zarina steals phone back before I can so much as breathe areply. “Hope you have the day you deserve, Mother!” She smashes the end call button and drops it on the counter.

I stare as Zarina sips her coffee again, one hand tucking her hair behind her ear, and lean my elbows on the counter. “Your mother seems really nice.”

Zarina guffaws, loud and amused, before she covers her mouth again. A grin bursts across my face.

She shakes her head. “I hate that I love her.”

I get that, the push and pull of wishing a parent could be as perfect as you imagined them to be when you were younger, when they weren’t fully fleshed-out adults with faults and ulterior motives. Of wishing they could love without conditions, like they said they would.

My hand stretches across the counter before I can stop it. I force it to grab my phone rather than Zarina’s hand. “We don’t choose our parents.”

“Yeah.” She straightens, thumbnail catching an imperfection on her mug.

I pull my phone over, tucking it in my pocket and clearing my throat. “Clothes, then. Give Darius your sizes, and we’ll have some pieces delivered for you.”

“The Council will convene soon.” She ignores me and sets her coffee on the counter, back straight and chin set. “My parents and the Accardis won’t let them wait very long.”

This is Business Zarina. In an overlarge tee and no pants. Maybe no underwear. I pluck up my own mug and take a drink lest I drool in front of her. “What story do you want to tell?”

“The lesbian tale as old as time.” She waggles her brows.

“And they were very good friends?”

She chuckles. “The other one—secrecy and shadows and pseudonyms.”

I hum affirmation. “A classic.”

“I need a couple things other than clothes for the meeting.”

“Like?” I have to forcefully suck in my lips before I make an entire list of inappropriate suggestions.

“Hair, makeup, jewelry, shoes, purses.” She rinses her mug in the sink and places it in the dishwasher, bending just enough to tease me into damn near cardiac arrest. I grip my own mug tighter, the ceramic creaking under my fingers. She continues on, as if she hasn’t already listed a casual six-figure wardrobe. “And if we don’t die at the Council meeting, a phone, laptop, car?—”

“I didn’t know having a fiancée would be so expensive,” I grumble.

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