Chapter 19 Zarina #2
“Fuck’s sake.” I snatch my phone out and almost smash the decline button when the name on the screen registers. The scowl on my face drops, and I can feel the blood draining with it. Because it’s not her calling me, not even Darius.
It’s Marcus Accardi.
I look to Pat in horror. They frown at the screen. It’s a video call, unexpected and inappropriate. They take the phone from my hand and accept the call, not showing myself or anything more than the booth behind them.
The image that greets us forces me to stifle a gasp.
Rita Pollard of Pollard Properties Corp.
and director of Alphabet House and pseudo-mother figure to Andrea Tamayo sits in a chair in her office.
She glares at whoever holds the phone, her hands gripping the armrests so hard her knuckles could cut through her own skin.
And beside her, smug and smirking, is Marcus Accardi.
Holding a gun aimed at her head.
“Patrizia,” Marcus drawls Pat’s full name. A curl hangs down his forehead as he stares into the camera, entirely too pleased with himself. “May I speak with Zarina, please?”
I don’t allow Pat to answer. I snatch the phone out of their hands. “What the fuck are you doing, Marcus?”
“Hello, my love.” His smirk widens into a ruthless grin, canines sharp and threatening.
Alarms ring through my body. I freeze, knowing what that smile means.
Marcus is not just a cat with a mouse caught by the tail, he’s a lion lazing in the Saharan sun after gorging himself.
Comfortable in his victory, because he’s already got what he’s wanted, already reveling in the fear leaking out of every pore in Rita’s skin.
“What the hell is going on, Zarina?” Rita’s voice trembles, though she tries hard to tamp it down.
My heart lances with pain alongside its current ache, but my pissed expression doesn’t change. And I don’t answer. Not when it could give Marcus more leverage. Not when he already has too much.
“That’s precisely what I’m wondering,” I grind the words through my clenched teeth.
Even the way Marcus is standing is disconcertingly nonchalant, like he’s waiting in line at the fucking grocery store rather than holding a civilian at gunpoint. “I’ve decided to give you one last chance.”
“To what?” I want him to spell it out in fucking crayon.
“Marry me. Seal the deal. Accept your fate—however you choose to phrase it. And if we cannot come to an… amenable agreement, then who knows what I’ll do.” He switches the safety off, and Rita visibly shudders, her eyes watering despite the force of her glare.
“Where are the kids?” I ask.
“They’re fine,” Marcus answers. “Don’t even know what’s going on. For now.”
All the wine in my stomach sloshes into a solidified ball that threatens to crawl up my throat.
He stands in Rita’s office, holding her hostage, while Mais, Jaime, Harriet, all of them, sit upstairs, in the rec room, the library, and think they’re safe from the horrors of their past. Each of them arrived at Alphabet House searching for acceptance, for the love their family’s withheld.
And now a monster walks among them.
I look to Rita. “Is that true?”
She gives a curt nod. I still tap the table, and Pat immediately dials Mais.
Marcus moves to stand behind Rita’s chair, gun rounding to her right temple as he brushes his fingers over her collarbone, up her carotid, along her jaw.
Rita flinches, but doesn’t pull away. There’s nowhere for her to go.
He’s all around her, a malicious specter invading her office like noxious gas.
“You know what will happen if your gangster shows up, don’t you? ”
“You should be more worried about what will happen if I show up,” I growl.
“Either way…” He rounds Rita’s chair to lean against the large desk, as whoever’s holding the phone adjusts their position to keep him and her in frame. He rests the gun against his thigh, finger poised over the trigger, and stares the camera down. “Any hint of a rescue mission and the bitch dies.”
Rita’s eyes widen. “Zarina—”
Marcus backhands her across the face. Her body twists with the force of it, blood dribbling out of the corner of her mouth. And he stands there, hands clasped as if he didn’t move an inch.
Rita breathes hard, clutching her cheek and blinking at the floor like she’s forcing back tears.
I freeze every muscle in my face to keep the furious glare in place and bury the concern and guilt lest he use them against me.
Against her. Rita straightens, leveling a glare of her own, and spits blood at his feet.
Marcus shoves the tip of the gun into Rita’s forehead hard enough to force her to yield to the pressure.
He holds her glare as he speaks to me. “Look what you made me do, Zarina. This didn’t have to involve anyone but you and me, but you’ve ignored my other methods of persuasion. And I’m out of patience.”
“Persuasion? You mean your pathetic attempted kidnapping?” I snap.
He smirks at me as if he thinks we’re flirting, like this volley of insults is foreplay before I fall to my knees in submission. “Careful, baby, you don’t want to force my hand.”
Behind my phone, Pat holds up their own with a note in large font. The kids are okay. Mais is taking care of them. The tiniest sliver of relief rolls down my spine, quickly replaced by bright panic. They’re only okay so long as I keep Marcus happy.
“You’re right,” I say. Because I have to get him out of Alphabet House and remove the threat before it escalates any further.
And the only way to do that is tell him exactly what he wants to hear.
I lick my lips. If I were either of my parents, I would sacrifice Rita for the power play.
I wouldn’t capitulate to Marcus’s demands.
My ego would require I stand tall and let him throw a fit, even if it meant slaughter.
But I’m not them. A couple months ago, I would have wanted to live up to their expectations of me and would have spilled whoever’s blood to do so.
Now, as I watch Rita choke back sobs and fight to keep her face full of anger rather than show a hint of fear as she faces down the brutal Accardi prince, I realize how much pride has ruled each of us.
No more.
“I’ll marry you, Marcus,” I mutter.
Pat’s eyes bug out, and they shake their head, like they can answer for me. Even Rita on the screen flinches at the words. I ignore them both.
All of us—me, Mother, Father, Tamayo, Marcus—we’ve put our egos before the good of our families, the good of each other.
We commit crimes, game the system, enact violence, but we’re meant to take care of our own, not sacrifice them.
And now Marcus stands with a small battalion in Alphabet House, gun pointed at one of the best people I know and threatening to rip something good and precious from this world so that he can take more power.
But power isn’t in the taking, it’s in the wielding. And I will wield what power I have.
I meet Marcus’s smug face, victory within his grasp, and show him what he wants to see—acquiescence. I pull my shoulders in, make myself smaller, and hide the plan forming in the back of my mind. “I’ll marry you in a few weeks.”
He narrows his eyes. “Why not now?”
“This must be incontestable.” And I need time to move the pieces into place.
“Your stunt at the engagement party means everything we do will be scrutinized for duress. And you know the North and East don’t want us to…
join forces.” I almost gag on the words.
“They’ll do whatever they can to stop us. ”
Marcus considers that, the tip of his gun still pressing into Rita’s forehead. I let him follow my logic to its end, let him believe we’re on a team. And he swallows it down without a fuss. “Fine. But you’ll move in with me until then.”
Absolutely not. “I don’t think that will help our case, Marcus.”
“I don’t trust you.” He glances pointedly to the gun, to Rita, to the coercion he orchestrated to force me to agree to marry him.
“I’ll move back in with my parents.” The irony of my and Pat’s conversation earlier compared to this one now almost forces a maniacal snort of laughter out of me. I bite down on it before it can escape.
“Danny stays with you,” Marcus says.
“Fine.” I do my best not to glance at the Snake himself in the background of the call.
Marcus levels me with a dangerous glare and a sadistic grin. “And you’ll have no further contact with Andrea Tamayo or her people. None. Or I’ll come back here and do more than threaten.”
I bat my eyelashes at him and make my voice sickly sweet. “And if you try to force us to marry earlier or hurt them in any way, I’ll get my tubes tied and you’ll never have a legitimate heir.”
He laughs, like this is fun. Like I’m a perfect match to his brutal cruelty. He holsters his gun, finally. “Christmas Day, then.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“See you at the altar.”
“I’ll be the one vomiting.”
Marcus ignores me and cups Rita’s chin, stroking his thumb across the already blooming bruise on her cheekbone. “We’ll see you there, hm? You’ll make sure my bride behaves?”
Rita doesn’t answer, her whole body stiff with fear and anger.
“Good.” Marcus settles against the desk again. “Where are you?”
I wave a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll call my father for a pickup.”
“No, I’ll call him.”
“Absolutely not,” I snap. “I don’t trust you not to kidnap me. Plus, this has to at least appear like my choice.”
He sighs. “Then have your pickup include Danny.”
“Fine.” The weight of what I’ve just agreed to settles into my body, sharp in my muscles, nauseous in my gut. I can’t pay off my family’s debts and I can’t marry Marcus, which leaves one path forward. My parents will hate it, but they lost all rights when they put their ego before the family.
“We’ll wait here.” Marcus rests his feet on Rita’s lap, a show of intimidation and a promise to finish what he started if I don’t follow through. “Danny, call when you and Zarina arrive at the Gallo estate.”
“Got it,” Danny says from the door.
“See you soon, Zarina.” Marcus blows a kiss at the camera, and I mime gagging. Then the line goes dead.
Pat’s already on their phone calling for the pickup.
I want to yank it out of their hand and throw it at Tamayo’s goons across the bar.
I want to drive over to Alphabet House and strangle Marcus Accardi to death with my bare hands.
I want to cry and rage and roll into a ball on the floor and not move an inch for hours.
But I don’t have the luxury of time or space.
At least not until I’m locked in my room at my family’s estate.
Right now, I have about a half-hour before I’m under surveillance almost every minute of every day until Christmas.
I yank off my ruby engagement ring and flag down the server to ask for pen and paper and one last glass of wine.
As they scurry off to grab those, I tap on my screen, sending an encrypted message before it will be replaced with Accardi tech and I won’t be able to so much as check my email without Marcus knowing about it.
[Zarina Gallo 20:14] I need a favor.
[DA Asshat 20:14] How can I help?