Page 59 of Sapphires and Snakes
I almost laugh, but I realize that would color me crazy. Is Zarina? We made a deal, but it was never fulfilled. Not on my end. In fact, I failed so spectacularly that I practically pushed her into the villain’s arms. She owes me nothing. Not after I already took so much.
“There was this, too.” Logan slides an envelope across the small pile of contracts on my lap. It appears harmless and yet it trips dread in my chest. There’s a slight shimmer to the paper, an undertone of gold. Before I even touch it, I know what it will be.
I set my glass on the table and pick up the envelope. The fresh scabs on my knuckles throb, their pink-yellow especially vulgar in contrast to the fine stationery. Behind me, I can feel Darius lean forward on his toes to see. I wish I could elbow him in the gut for it, but I keep my face impassive, keep my arm where it rests on the chair, and slip my finger under the flap to rip it upward, pulling the cardstock out. It’s the same paper as the envelope with hand-lettered black calligraphy scrolling across the face.
Marcus Alonso Accardi and Zarina Giovanna Gallo invite you to join us in celebrating the joining of two families, one love, this Christmas Day at five p.m. at the Gallo Family estate.
The ink runs in my vision as if it’s freshly penned. Bile climbs up my throat. I flip the invitation over, unwilling to see its words any longer. Unwilling to imagine her in white, walking down the aisle toward the monster she tried so hard to escape. The one I pushed her toward.
And find a scrawled message:Option 3. You have until the wedding.
I stare at her note. Option three. I don’t have to struggle to recall our last conversation, not when I relive it every day, multiple times a day. Any moment of quiet and Zarina’s voice strikes my ear drums as if she’s right beside me, whispering, screaming, sobbing.The only other option I see is you selling Gallo territory back to me.Which I didn’t do.
But she did.
Each contract Logan’s brought is a deed transferring ownership of Gallo property over to me. Each one brings me a step closer to my end goal. And each one rips power away from Zarina Gallo, my mafia princess.
This should be enough.
Dear god, what has she done? And what will I do? It’s the last piece in the puzzle, but the cost is so high. I’ve already paid part of it, already lost Zarina and any chance at making things right. Part of me wants to refuse to sign, to find another way to get what I want, to get her out of this marriage. But I don’t see another path. I never have. And to ignore Zarina’s obvious wishes would be another slap in her face. I think I’ve insulted her enough for a lifetime.
So I’ll do what she’s asked of me. It’s all I can do. I hold my hand out to Logan. “Got a pen?”
ZARINA
Grandfather’s eyes keep following me. His portrait hangs above the mantel, his face set in an eternal scowl as he watches me pretend to read. My book lies open on my lap, but the page is a blur. I chew my bottom lip and fail to focus on the rise and fall of the Roman empire. Or is it the British?
Pat stands stiff beside the fireplace, back to the shelves and half-angled toward Danny, who sits near the door playing solitaire or one-man poker. Because god fucking forbid I enter, exit, or be allowed a fucking guest. Even Sally is barred entry unless it’s for a fitting.
I turn the page, just to make it appear as if I’m digesting a single word, and rest my chin on my knuckles. It’s been almost ten days since I shoved a stack of papers into Sally’s hands and begged for her help. I have no idea if she was able to deliver the contracts. I have no idea if the district attorney was able to finalize the transfer of ownership.
I have no idea if Tamayo signed.
And there’s no way to find out. Not without endangering myself or revealing my scheme. I can only wait, stuck in this house that used to feel so big I could get lost. Now it’s closing in, eyes on me every moment of every day. Even Grandfather’sdoing his best impression of a watchdog. Whose side is he on, anyway?
A knock rattles the door a moment before it opens. “Zarina?” Father steps inside.
I hum, as if engrossed in my book and not in my anxiety.
“Give us the room.” Father strides in, door left open.
In my peripheral, Danny purses his lips and studies Father then me then Father again. “I’d rather not.”
Father’s face hardens. “You are allowed to stay here by my grace, Daniel. I don’t care who you are, I will have you removed from my home.”
Danny snorts, understanding the threat for what it is—empty. “And you know what will happen if you do.”
“The Accardis do not rule here.” If Father had hackles, they’d be raised.
Danny’s face splits in a smirk, saying plenty without speaking a word—In due time.
“We must be allowed our privacy, Danny.” I speak as if already bored with the topic, with Father’s interruption. “The Gallos are still a Cardinal Family, are they not?”
“Fine.” Danny throws down his cards. “No one in or out. And she comes with me.”
I stiffen, knowing he means Pat and knowing he’s misgendered them on purpose. They don’t show a reaction to the disrespect, but I know it affects them. I know it’s not as simple as ignoring it. Not when Danny does this all day, every day.
“Fine.” I force my voice to remain unbothered.
