Page 3 of Sapphires and Snakes

Marcus’s hand squeezes harder with a forced chuckle. Zarina winces in pain, and my fingers twitch so violently, one of his men adjusts their gun like I reached for my own still holstered at my waist. The air from the wide-open exit door licks at their backs. We have to keep them here.

“All this manpower to transport one little girl,” Pat calls with a scoff. “Says a lot about your”—they look pointedly at Marcus’s crotch—“power.”

“We expected more trouble.” Marcus shrugs, performing nonchalance, but Zarina flinches again and belies his facade. “Not this puny gang.”

As if he summoned them, a handful of my soldiers swarm the back alley exit behind him. Half the guns whirl to meet the new threat, advancing to guard Marcus’s back. A small exhale of relief shakes through me, but it’s short-lived.

Marcus still has a chokehold on the queen in this chess match. My queen.

“You were saying?” Pat sneers.

“Attaccati a sto cazzo!” Dan the Snake yells. The man won’t even tell us to suck his dick in English. Coward.

“Mind your business,” Pat snaps. They don’t bother to spare the Snake a glance, eyes only for Marcus. “Since when does the big bad mafia prince hide behind boys and guns to steal himself a wife?” they taunt.

Marcus’s nails dig into Zarina’s neck, and I tighten my core to keep from lunging forward.

Pat shakes their head with derision. “Can’t wait to tell the Cardinal dons all about this. We’ll have a good laugh, I’m sure.”

Marcus yanks Zarina closer. Her back is pressed to his chest, his hand twisting to sit under her chin, making her crane her neck.

“Pat,” I whisper-growl in warning. Every word they utter hurts Zarina. What the fuck are they doing?

“I know what you’re doing,” Marcus growls.

Pat snorts, ignoring me and the cruel grip around Zarina’s throat. “Calling you out for the pathetic coward you are?”

Marcus grits his teeth and uses his second hand to grab hold of Zarina’s jaw so hard, her eyes water. “Baiting me.”

“Pat.” I want to snatch Pat’s elbow and shove my fist in their mouth, make them shut the fuck up. But if I move too suddenly, the ten men and their jumpy trigger fingers will react. They’ll shoot. And I can’t fail Zarina, not when she’s in danger of the one thing I promised to prevent.

“It’s not hard with someone as emotional as you,” Pat jeers.

Darius whispers so low beside me, I almost miss the words. “Her hands.”

Marcus’s whole face reddens with anger. It takes every ounce of self-control I possess to keep my gaze where it is, watching Marcus practically strangle Zarina, rather than darting down. I hold the fear and helplessness in my expression as I let my gaze slowly travel from Marcus’s hands to Zarina’s—one of which is slowly creeping toward Marcus’s gun at his hip.

Pat continues taunting, having caught on to the game far quicker than myself. “Poor little Marky, too many emotions for his body to handle?—”

Marcus snaps, “Wipe this gang off?—”

Before he can finish the order, Zarina snatches his gun out of its holster. She digs the muzzle into the soft skin under his chinand flicks off the safety. “Take your hands off me and walk me to Tamayo, or I pull the fucking trigger.”

Marcus’s men don’t know what to do. A few half-turn to meet the new threat, while the rest hold us back in front and behind. Marcus himself doesn’t move or speak for a full ten seconds, which I count in my head. Zarina holds steady, not a hint of shaky hesitation in her body or her face.

She’d kill him, even if it meant her own death.

“I could break your neck,” Marcus threatens. His fingers dig into her skin impossibly harder.

Zarina doesn’t even flinch. “Not before I pull the trigger.”

Dan the Snake steps toward them, and she digs the gun in deep enough to force Marcus’s head back.

“I will kill him,” she snarls.

Dan pauses. “Marky?”

“Back up, Danny.” Marcus says it like the words are being wrenched out of him.