Page 68
Story: Rubies and Revenge
“It does.” I pocket the flash drive.
“Did he hurt them?” Zarina asks, worry lines on her forehead.
Angie shakes her head, eyes bright with mischief. “They fucked him.”
“Make sure they get aftercare and the week off if they want it—except testing day.” No one gets out of STI testing day.
“Already done,” Angie says.
I cock my head. “Who’s the other guest?”
She glances at Zarina again, but this time it’s more calculated and annoyed than cautious. “Marcus Accardi is outside, demanding to see Miss Gallo.”
Fucking idiot.He and Alonso have exercised every avenue they can to keep their names separate from mine, from the Den of Inequity, and all the underhanded bullshit they’re doing. And he shows up here anyway? Making a scene? Men and their tiny, indefensible egos.
“The line is mostly inside,” Angie continues. “Darius and Gemma are holding them at the door.”
Zarina wipes her hands free of crumbs and studies Angie then me with a shrewd look. “Has the DA left yet?”
“He’s recovering in his suite,” Angie says.
Zarina turns to me, nudging my leg with her foot. “Walk him out.”
“What?” Angie and I ask in unison.
Zarina sighs, exasperated. “Walk him out of the club as a courtesy. Make sure he had a good time, that he gets to his car safely, and that he passes right by Marcus. And then completely ignore the asshole.”
I consider it, pursing my lips. “That will only rile him up.”
“Exactly.” Zarina’s smirk is nothing short of malicious.
“I would prefer not to provoke him,” I say.
“Marcus is already provoked—you’ve got his weasel and his snake in custody. He didn’t show up here for me, not really. He came for you.” She tosses the chips on the table, bag half-gone, and licks her fingers clean. “Walk Logan out, shake his hand, and invite him back anytime. It’s double assurance—you have the footage, now make sure the Accardis know for certain that the district attorney is in your pocket and his actions are targeted.”
The scope of her proposal sinks in. “Remove Logan’s chance to double-cross.”
Her smirk widens into a full-tooth grin. “Exactly.”
I yank my phone out again to call Logan’s driver, hand never leaving Zarina’s feet. Until I hang up. She pulls her legs in, and I lean over to press one last kiss to her temple then her cheek. “Get dressed, princess.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Angie, can you walk her out the back while I deal with Marcus?” I rise, striding to one of the closets along the back wall and pulling out a new shirt.
“Tamayo,” Angie’s voice is full of disagreement.
“I’m not having her exit through the front, Angela,” I snap.
“I don’t like this,” she gripes.
I button up my shirt and tuck it into my trousers. “I know.”
“There’s a back exit?” Zarina asks, still bundled in her blanket on the couch.
“Sort of. Angie will show you the way. Pat, too.”
Angie huffs and grinds her teeth, the action more sinister with her black lipstick and heavy eyeliner.
“Did he hurt them?” Zarina asks, worry lines on her forehead.
Angie shakes her head, eyes bright with mischief. “They fucked him.”
“Make sure they get aftercare and the week off if they want it—except testing day.” No one gets out of STI testing day.
“Already done,” Angie says.
I cock my head. “Who’s the other guest?”
She glances at Zarina again, but this time it’s more calculated and annoyed than cautious. “Marcus Accardi is outside, demanding to see Miss Gallo.”
Fucking idiot.He and Alonso have exercised every avenue they can to keep their names separate from mine, from the Den of Inequity, and all the underhanded bullshit they’re doing. And he shows up here anyway? Making a scene? Men and their tiny, indefensible egos.
“The line is mostly inside,” Angie continues. “Darius and Gemma are holding them at the door.”
Zarina wipes her hands free of crumbs and studies Angie then me with a shrewd look. “Has the DA left yet?”
“He’s recovering in his suite,” Angie says.
Zarina turns to me, nudging my leg with her foot. “Walk him out.”
“What?” Angie and I ask in unison.
Zarina sighs, exasperated. “Walk him out of the club as a courtesy. Make sure he had a good time, that he gets to his car safely, and that he passes right by Marcus. And then completely ignore the asshole.”
I consider it, pursing my lips. “That will only rile him up.”
“Exactly.” Zarina’s smirk is nothing short of malicious.
“I would prefer not to provoke him,” I say.
“Marcus is already provoked—you’ve got his weasel and his snake in custody. He didn’t show up here for me, not really. He came for you.” She tosses the chips on the table, bag half-gone, and licks her fingers clean. “Walk Logan out, shake his hand, and invite him back anytime. It’s double assurance—you have the footage, now make sure the Accardis know for certain that the district attorney is in your pocket and his actions are targeted.”
The scope of her proposal sinks in. “Remove Logan’s chance to double-cross.”
Her smirk widens into a full-tooth grin. “Exactly.”
I yank my phone out again to call Logan’s driver, hand never leaving Zarina’s feet. Until I hang up. She pulls her legs in, and I lean over to press one last kiss to her temple then her cheek. “Get dressed, princess.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Angie, can you walk her out the back while I deal with Marcus?” I rise, striding to one of the closets along the back wall and pulling out a new shirt.
“Tamayo,” Angie’s voice is full of disagreement.
“I’m not having her exit through the front, Angela,” I snap.
“I don’t like this,” she gripes.
I button up my shirt and tuck it into my trousers. “I know.”
“There’s a back exit?” Zarina asks, still bundled in her blanket on the couch.
“Sort of. Angie will show you the way. Pat, too.”
Angie huffs and grinds her teeth, the action more sinister with her black lipstick and heavy eyeliner.
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