No Hermès, No Service

Sofia Marino snorted, folded her arms, and looked us up and down.

"Grandmother? Oh, so it's a family act. The two of you are running a scam together?

"Not one designer label between you, and that ratty canvas bag. Is everything you're wearing even worth $100?

"And you have the nerve to talk about replacing my husband?"

She pulled a thick stack of bills out of a crocodile-skin handbag and slapped it against her palm.

Then she flicked her wrist, sending the green bills flying into my face.

"I've seen plenty of lowlife maggots like you. You're hanging around to squeeze some money out of me, aren't you?

"Here's $2,000. Put it toward your coffins and get out!"

My gaze went cold.

I was a Corsino. My family ran the most powerful mafia empire in North America, and people on both sides of the law bowed to us.

The last person who tried to humiliate me with money is in a block of concrete at the bottom of the Hudson.

I narrowed my eyes at Sofia, ready to teach her a lesson she would never forget.

But my grandmother tugged lightly at my sleeve and gave the smallest shake of her head.

"She is Luca's woman, after all. Don't kill anyone in public. The last thing we need is the FBI sniffing around again and our family's reputation dragged through the mud."

My grandmother had spoken, so I had no choice but to swallow the urge to kill. "Pick up your dirty money," I said coldly, "and get your arrogant ass out of this VIP room."

Sofia giggled as though she had heard the funniest thing in the world.

"Who the hell do you think you are, telling me to get out?

"You have ten seconds to get out of my sight, or you'll be dead before you know what hit you."

She folded her arms and looked at us as if we were garbage. Then she started counting.

"Ten.

"Nine.

"Eight."

...

I didn't budge. I even picked up the catalog on the table and showed my grandmother the new designs.

Ada Bennett, the saleswoman, was sweating nervously. She edged over to me and whispered, "Ma'am, please take your grandmother and go. Don't try to stand up to her."

Her voice shook, and fear was written all over her face.

"She's Mario Marino's only daughter. The Marino crew is notorious around here for being ruthless.

"Last month, a customer asked a few extra questions about the price. She had his fingers cut off. He's still in intensive care.

"Please go. A necklace is not worth your life!"

Mario?

It took me a while to place the name.

Wasn't he the bankrupt mob boss whose rivals had taken his territory and were about to hunt him down and kill him?

A few days earlier, Luca had brought him to me. Mario had sobbed and begged me to save the Marino crew.

That very morning, Mario had been fawning over me at my estate, all but kissing my shoes.

I had reluctantly agreed to lend him $50 million in weapons and cash and signed a protection contract. I'd done it only as a favor to my cousin.

The contract that would decide whether the Marino crew lived or died was in my bag.

I patted Ada's hand to calm her, then looked up at Sofia.

"You're Mario's daughter? Then you had better call your father and ask him who I am.

"Don't make enemies your father can't afford to have. He'll skin you alive for it."

She froze, as if something had just occurred to her. Alarm and doubt flickered across her face.

"You... you know my father?"