Page 14 of Sin & Sapphire

Tonight, an American lawyer met with us on a large screen. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see that my grandfather embraced technologies to help him run his empire, but the screen still looked out of place among the Old-World ambiance.

On the screen was the lawyer, Angelo, and my father’s mistress. I bore Esmerelda no rancor. She’d never been cruel to me and had often distracted my father from the worst of his excess. Her presence meant he’d left her something.

Good.

With me were Nonno and Nonno’s consigliere—an attorney, advocate, and man-about-town—my grandfather’s right-hand man, but not his second-in-command.

Angelo wore a suit and he filled it out beautifully, his strong shoulders and thick biceps pushing at the fabric. The tattoos on his neck peeked out from the unbuttoned shirt he wore under it, and when he raised his hand to run it over his face, I watched the tattoos on his fingers with fascination.

All my life, I’d been surrounded by brutal, violent men, and none of them had ever given me the sense of safety Angelo had when he’d caged me in his arms.

The American lawyer cleared his throat. “Thank you all for coming today. This will is …” he trailed off. “It’s unusual in that it lists very few assets.”

My brain flew to attention. Papà had owned property all over Yorkfield and Italy, much of it hidden in a byzantine maze of shell corporations so it couldn’t be found and taken to pay off his extensive debt.

“He left a million dollars to Esmerelda Echeverria.”

Esmerelda’s eyes widened and her hands flew to her chest. She prayed softly in Spanish, thanking the lord. Good for Papà. Not that she’d be able to collect, not with the cash he’d tied up in the trafficking operation that I was certain the Russos were dismantling as we spoke, but at least he’d done right by her.

“He left some small family heirlooms for Angelo Costa,” the lawyer continued.

“To Ana, I leave my estate and business operations in trust for her future husband. The trust gives her nothing until she marries, and at that point, will transfer into the hands of her husband. Until that day, Angelo Costa will manage my businesses and care for my estate.”

I gasped, leaving behind a lifetime of training for a moment, as my father’s betrayal settled into my bones.

He’d left me nothing. Nowhere to live. No money. No home. Fucking nothing. My entire life, he’d forcibly stopped me from my independence, and now, he’d left me destitute.

Fuck him.

My eyes flicked to Angelo’s face on the screen. “I don’t want it,” he growled.

Nonno’s face gave away nothing, but he raised a hand, and Angelo fell silent. “Angelo is unsuitable to run an empire,” he told the lawyer. “How do we fight this?”

“Angelo can hire whomever he wants,” the lawyer declared. “There’s nothing in here that says he has to be involved in the day-to-day details of the empire. But he is the signatory for the trust.”

“How do we challenge it?” Nonno asked. “Giving away the entire American branch of the Costa empire to the Tchérnovs is unacceptable.”

Angelo and I stared at each other for a long moment, furious at the will, unable to do anything about it, as our minds whirled, churning through the various paths we could take toward the future.

“Ana’s in danger,” Angelo said finally. “The will doesn’t specify who her husband is, only that the empire goes to whomever marries her.”

Nonno nodded sharply. “Without Gio at the reins, marrying her off to the French bratva seems less useful than an American alliance.”

When I opened my mouth to speak, Nonno looked at me with annoyance. “Hush, child.”

Twenty-six-years old, a master’s degree, and I’d never be anything but a child to him. If I’d been born a man, my father would have made me his heir, and I’d never be in this situation. All the years I’d spent at my father’s side unaccounted for. Silent, pretty, ornamental, serving liquor to men who thought I was a stupid doll, listening to every fucking deal my father made. I was useless.

My grandfather’s consigliere shifted in his seat. “Can the will be challenged?”

“Only if you want the American courts digging deep into Gio Costa’s finances and businesses.”

Inside, I snickered. Externally, I remained calm and placid, my legs crossed at the ankle, not revealing a goddamned thing. My father was a bastard, the worst sort of man, but if nothing else, I’d learned to hide what I was thinking, lest he beat me for showing how much I hated him.

“No,” Nonno said, slashing his hand through the air as if to cut off that path of conversation. “Absolutely not.”

Did they know about my father’s debts? Did the American lawyer know? Were they salivating over his empire without knowing that Gio sold me to the Tchérnovs in exchange for paying off his debts? Nonno had to know.

“I’ll consolidate power in Yorkfield,” Angelo said finally.

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