Page 142 of Sin & Sapphire

“Uncle, you wrong him,” she said as she exchanged air kisses with Accardi. “Enzo’s just hired muscle. He doesn’t know where the books are.”

“The fuck I don’t!” he exploded, drawing the attention of the mourners quietly making their way back to their vehicles. He stepped back from Ana, his posture tense and furious. “Don’t you fucking come over here and think you have the right to fucking anything! We built Gio’s empire, and we’re not going to let it fall into the hands of some foreign interlopers who’ve never worked a day in their lives.”

Ana cocked her head, still uncomfortably close to the asshole. “Foreign interlopers? Pretty sure you babysat me when I was a kid, Enzo.”

He sneered at her. “You’re a woman. A pretty face. A useless slut who’s already spreading her legs for these assholes in hopes of gaining a little bit of security. You’re nothing, Ana.”

Ana hummed softly. “It’s true. I’m just a woman, but?—”

Gunshots echoed over the cemetery. Angelo grabbed Ana, throwing her to the ground and covering her with his body. “Get the fuck down!”

The world slowed as my entire existence narrowed to the two bodies in the grass, exposed, unprotected. I drew my gun as I dropped into a crouch behind a gravestone and fired—once, twice—in the direction of the shooters’ vehicle, ignoring the screams of mourners as they panicked, keeping my eyes trained on Ana and Angelo. He rolled off her, and they stumbled to their feet, staying low as they sought cover behind the solid stone of the grave markers.

Our men—Costa men, including Enzo—spread out, guns drawn, firing at the SUV and protecting the two principles, but the shooters peeled off, the tires squealing against the pavement as they escaped.

Merde.

I dashed toward my lovers, only for Ana to angrily elbow Angelo in the ribs. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Get off of me!”

He rolled off of her, and she sat up before gasping. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s a scratch, angel.”

I offered her a hand, and she took it, graceful and composed, despite the grass on her black dress. She brushed herself off as Angelo stood with a wince.

“This is what comes of leaving the fate of the family in the hands of a woman,” Enzo spat. “It makes our enemies think we’re weak.”

“Weareweak!” Ana roared. “Our enemies burned down my family home! They attacked me in a bar the night you were supposed to meet us! We are weak becauseyouhave made us weak.”

As the funeralgoers picked themselves off the ground to the sound of women quietly weeping, Ana sneered. “You’re no better than your brother.”

Gio Costa may have funded the kidnapping of the Russos, but Sergio Accardi, Enzo’s brother, was the weapon in his hands—scum of the earth.

“Maybe not,” Enzo said, his back stiff with pride. “But you can’t rebuild this empire without me.”

Angelo held out his hand to shake, but Ana stepped in front of him, looking up at Enzo with fire in her eyes.

“I may be a useless slut and nothing but a pretty face, but if I say no, then you’ll be left with nothing. Boris Tchérnov is going to die. You’ll deal with me, or there won’t be a deal.”

Enzo looked her up and down, and I was pleased to see reluctant respect dawn in his eyes.

I loved this brave, confident version of Ana that I’d only seen glimpses of over the last few weeks.

He lifted his chin and nodded.

Ana waited.

He swore softly in muted Italian, then pounded his fist against his chest and bowed slightly. “First, we protect our own. And then, we take back what’s ours.”

Angelo stuck out his hand again, and this time, Enzo shook it. “Bene.”

52

ANGELO

The momentthe door shut to our apartment, Ana peeled off my jacket, inspecting the wound on my arm. She frowned, then reached up to loosen my tie before unbuttoning my shirt and sliding it down my shoulders.

“Sit,” she said imperiously, pointing to one of the barstools in the kitchen.

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