Page 24 of Rubies and Revenge

“What prompted you to expose your relationship yesterday?” he asks.

Zarina doesn’t shift her gaze away from Jimmy. “The Gallo-Accardi merger.”

Alonso’s clenched jaw finally unhinges. “Marriage! Marcus wants to marry you. This is not business!”

Zarina snorts, still not shifting her focus from Jimmy. “I’ve spent a sum total of twenty minutes alone with Marcus in my entire life. This is anythingbutromance.”

“You object to the marriage,” Jimmy cuts in before Alonso can sputter a retort.

She arches a brow. “For obvious reasons.”

Alonso shoves to his feet with a pointed finger, spittle flying from his lips. “Your lifestyle choices don’t exclude you from your duty to your family! We all make sacrifices.”

Marcus yanks his father back down into the pew as he settles his gaze on Zarina with outright lust. “Our marriage doesn’t have to mean you sacrifice your…proclivities.”

My hands ball into fists in my pockets, and my eye twitches,my mask of indifference fraying at the edges. David shifts, wood creaking under him, and looks away from Zarina. Riccardo stares at the crucifix like he’s the one hanging from the cross, nailed down and unable to change the direction of this meeting, of the decision forming among these silent men, powerful enough to stop this but not lifting a finger to do so. To them, Alonso has a point. And it seems that point is more important than the threat of combining the power of the South and West.

Jimmy leans back in his pew, watching us both like he’s waiting for our next move.

Zarina must come to the same realization as I do. She blinks and affects a somber expression belied by her tight grip on her purse. “I understand that,” she says. “Death before dishonor—these are the Gallo Family words. They mean we keep true to our deals, pay our debts, keep others beholden to theirs.” She fiddles with the zipper, glances down at my hand still gripping her waist, and straightens again. “And they’re the reason why I cannot accept Marcus’s proposal.”

Riccardo’s head snaps up, and he finallylooksat his daughter. She doesn’t look at him, her eyes steady on David Capone’s, the eldest Council member and their northern star.

“I cannot agree, because I already accepted another proposal.” She unzips her purse, fingers trembling. The Council might think she’s nervous, but the tension in her arms, her thighs and shoulders, speaks of her checked urge to lunge forward. I want to pull her tight against me, take the weight of her body so that she can rest. But I stand still. This is her show, her fate on the line, and I won’t ruin it.

She takes out the black velvet box I presented to her yesterday and fumbles the lid. On the satin bed inside rests a large, clear ruby surrounded by diamonds and set on a narrow, gold band. It’s simple, apparent wealth without being gaudy. Her mouth opens with a littleohas she studies the engagement ring, and I wonder if she didn’t look at it until now.

For the first time since this farce of a meeting started, I step in front of Zarina. I pluck the ring from its seat, and she watches, eyes wide, as I lower to one knee, her left hand in mine, and slip the ring onto her finger. It spans the length of her first knuckle, the edges scraping her neighboring fingers. I lean forward and press a kiss to the back of her hand. She releases another gasp and swallows hard.

Someone clears their throat.

Zarina’s gaze snaps up to the Council, like she forgot they were there. She squeezes my hand, still in hers, and pulls me to my feet. I thread my fingers through hers, her engagement ring knocking against my knuckles.

“I cannot marry Marcus Accardi”—Zarina speaks clearly, a hint of smugness in her voice as she meets Alonso’s churlish rage then Marcus’s irate indignation—“because I am already engaged. To Andrea Tamayo.”

ZARINA

All four dons focus on Tamayo.

As if the moment she slipped the ruby ring onto my finger, I became invisible. I am no longer Zarina Gallo, heiress to the Southern Districts and daughter of one of the most powerful families in Louredo. Now, I am only Andrea Tamayo’s fiancée, inheritor of her last name and mistress to a local gangster. Bitterness coats my tongue as Tamayo stands at my shoulder, neither ahead nor behind, and slips her hand out of my fingers and around my waist.

“This is ridiculous,” Alonso spits. I would like to agree, but for different reasons.

Jimmy holds up a hand for quiet. “When did this happen?” He’s studied us this whole time, smart enough to see through our sham but shrewd enough to let it play out. As don of the Eastern Districts, he can’t afford to cede more power. Not with the gentrification of the South and West moving half his high-rolling clientele across town.

“I asked her last month,” Tamayo answers for me. For us. My shoulders stiffen, and she drags her thumb across the bare skin of my back, teasing at the edge of my dress. “She said yes.”

“I would’ve known.” Father’s voice is low and strained. To anyone else, it might sound like he’s holding back anger, but I’m not just anyone. I’ve spent all twenty-six-years of my life deciphering the tones of his voice, learning when to avoid him and his bitter, verbal lashings. “I would know if my daughter was rolling around in the mud.”

I whip my head around and suck in a breath to fire back, but Tamayo physically pulls me against her side and squeezes my ribs in a grip that’s both staying and punishing.

“We were forced to hide it.” Tamayo stands steady, entirely unbothered by the insult heavy in Father’s words. I don’t know how. I could rake my nails down his face right now. She continues, “Seeing as you don’t approve.”

“Understandable.” Jimmy brushes off his thighs and stands, adjusting his suit jacket. “It seems this meeting was unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary?” Alonso sputters.

Marcus sits next to him with a darkening glower and clenched jaw, the opposite of the idiotic smirk he wore when we entered. I toss him the same smug wink he gave me then.

---