Page 101 of Lies like Rubies, Part Two (Savage Jewels)

I growled. The Costas were behind this, and we all fucking knew it.

“Sergio Accardi is missing,” Liam continued. “There’s video of him driving off in the confusion, but no trace of where he went after that. Lorenzo, what’s the status of the O’Conner house?”

The man I loved, my sweet and kind lover, had reverted back to the hard man who’d run security and enforcement for the Russos for the last four years. “Destroyed. It will have to be condemned.”

For half a second, my father shrank down into himself, then straightened his back, ignoring the stitches the doctor sewed into him. “What news of mywife?”

Declan grinned, shoving his blond hair out of his eyes. “We found some low level Costa soldiers. They’re at the club.”

“My club?” Liam asked, with his eyebrows raised. I hadn’t realized Liam still owned the club—I thought he’d divested himself of it, and his illegal Friday Night Fights, when he went straight for Ginevra.

“Whose club?” Declan asked before smiling mischievously.

“Mine,” Liam snarled. “Why the fuck are you bringing criminals to it?”

Declan laughed, his genuine amusement incongruous with the seriousness of the evening. “Your club that you haven’t stepped foot in since you married Ginevra? Sure, Liam. They’re in your basement.”

Liam nodded. “You think they’ll know anything?”

“No,” I said, surprising everyone when I interrupted. “But they’ll know where to find men who will.” When I shoved back my chair, all of the men at the table stood. Briefly, I debated telling them to sit and continue. No, fuck that. “Let’s go,” I ordered.

“Not you,” Liam snapped when Ginevra rose from her seat among the couches. He looked at Lorenzo, his eyes agonized. Ginevra’s husbands had promised her they’d go straight, entirely legitimate, and here I was, fucking that up. Again.

“Nor you,” I told Liam. “Or you,” I told my father. “Papà, you need to stay here where you can command the troops.”

My father looked at me, rage glinting in his eye. “Don’t manage me, daughter.”

Ginevra stood and laid her hand on Papà’s good shoulder. “Stay with us here at the compound, please. You should be here to greet Mamma when they find her.”

Papà laughed bitterly. “Get Luca,” he snapped.

Ginevra brought my brother from the office where he’d been with Cormac, combing through video feeds, legal and illegal.

“How many dead?” Papà asked my brother. “How many good men died today defending my granddaughter?”

“Over a dozen,” Luca answered, “and that doesn’t include those who died at the gala itself.”

Ginevra looked me up and down, in my sports bra, tanktop, and leggings, then dashed upstairs. She returned with a hair tie and a makeup bag. “Put yourself together in the car.”

I dragged her into a hug.

“We’re going to get them back,” she said, fierce, practically vibrating with her rage. “I promise you.”

No matter what. Time and time again, I had to prove I’d do anything for my daughter, and I couldn’t escape the creeping feeling that tonight would be no different.

Rian tossed Dante a set of keys. “Take mine. It’s the most likely to be clean.”

Declan shared a long look with Liam, then sighed. “I’ll supervise.”

“Supervise?” Dante said, a salt and pepper eyebrow cocked.

“Oh, did you suddenly grow up in Yorkfield, you European asshole?” Declan snapped. “It’s not your club, you don’t know what the limits are, and I sure as fuck want to be on site in case the cops show up or some other shit goes down while Sofia’s there.”

Super. A dick measuring contest while my daughter and my mother were hostages to my psycho baby-daddy.

41

DANTE

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