Page 53 of Rubies and Revenge

Her eyes darken, and her voice hardens. “Say it, princess.”

I scowl at her, but inside I’m reveling. This dynamic we have, the way she speaks and the way it lights me up, it’s like nothing I’ve experienced before. She promised it won’t affect our deal, and I’ll hold myself to the same standard. Because I want it. I want more.

I want to trace the scrollwork and floral tattoos winding out of her collar and up her neck. Better, I want to beinvitedto touch them, to touch her, for more than the performance of it. For me. For her. And I want everything she’s said to me, nasty and nice and in-between.

So I lean into it, like I haven’t truly allowed myself since I got on my knees before her in the Den of Inequity. I drop my voice low and fill it with the craving I feel. “I want you, Tamayo. Want you to fuck me pliant.”

She smiles, wide and wicked. “Good girl.”

I roll my eyes like that doesn’t do something to me. “Thanks, daddy.”

She laughs brightly, her eyes shimmering. “We can discuss eye rolls and titles later.”

“Wait, later?” I narrow my eyes at her. “What’re you doing now?”

“I have work to do.” She lands a kiss on my temple like I’m a patient person and not a spoiled brat who hates waiting. The way she dances backward too quick for me to grab her suggests she knows and she’s using it against me. “And you have work, too. Call your event planner friend for me, hm?”

My mouth hangs open. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, princess.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket, already fully distracted from me.Me. Half-dressed and fuckableand willing. Tamayo starts down the hall toward her office. “I’ll fuck you later, hm?”

“You missed the opportunity!” I shout after her. “The door to this pussy is closed! For good!”

“We’ll see,” she says barely loud enough to reach me.

TAMAYO

The television blares the ten o’clock news in the living room, Darius standing in front of it with the remote in hand. Logan Anderson speaks at a podium in front of a cluster of microphones with reporters and cameramen scattered through the room in front of him. He’s answering questions about the rising crime rate in Sallay neighborhood and the targeting of queer people. He doesn’t say hate crime, but he might as well spell it out.

“This is of highest priority to our office,” he says. “No one should be in danger for their indelible identities, whether that is religion, race, gender, or sexuality.”

Darius snorts. I sip my beer.

“What steps are being taken to prevent further crime in the neighborhood?” a reporter asks.

My ears perk up, waiting for the answer. Despite being the person Logan is supposedly helping, I have no idea how he and Jimmy plan to leverage this to muzzle the Accardis. Logan stands at his podium in his luxury suit and slicked-back hair and dimpled chin, and all I can see is a priest preaching aboutloving the sinner and hating the sin and damning both in one breath.

Which is exactly what he does.

“We’ll be increasing patrols,” he answers—the worst possible answer. “Working together with key community members to identify suspects, and utilizing the full scope of the law to bring them to justice.”

I gulp a third of my beer.Fucking idiot.Increased patrols won’t help anyone but him and his optics. God damn it.

“Have any arrests been made?” another reporter asks.

“We have two people in custody, who we believe are responsible for the hateful vandalism on a local LGBTQ+ club, Den of Inequity.” At least he didn’t fumble the acronym. And who the fuck is in custody? He continues, “We cannot release more details at this time.”

Another reporter asks, “The Den of Inequity has been the focus of protests and harassment the past week. What will your department do to keep the peace?”

“Police officers will be employed to keep patrons and protestors safe.” Logan says it like he’s doing a service for the community rather than endangering them.

“Jesus fuck.” I slam my beer on the table.

Darius throws his hands up. “How is this supposed to help?”

“Fucking law dog can’t be trusted.” I scrape my hands down my face andthink. Logan is using me as much as we’re using him. He wants to appeal to a wider base of voters while appearing like the law and order candidate. Plus, he doesn’t want to actually offend the Accardis lest they turn their targets on him.

We have two people in custody. I pull out my phone and shoot a message to Jimmy, asking for their names. If those people aren’t Accardi affiliated, then what’s the point of any of this?

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