Page 152 of Jordan

“No, Vincenzo! You murdered our father in cold blood!”

“I saved our family!”

“You saved us from losing this stupid empire, from—”

“My wife is pregnant, Elio,” I bellow.

“What?” he breathes out.

“She’s pregnant. Papa had enemies. Lots of them. If you think us losing this empire would have been the end all, be all of this, you’re the stupid one, fratello. Not me. My wife is pregnant. I am having a child, and I will kill anyone in this world who threatens them, and Papa being alive, the way he was—which was no decent way of living, I’ll add—was putting my family in danger. Your family. Marco’s family. Anyone we ever get close to. Papa had enemies who would have stopped at nothing to end all of us out of fear we would come back. Because we would. It’s what we do. It’s in our blood. Never mind Zio. They’d have given him more trouble too. Our uncle doesn’t need that, and neither do our cousins and their wives, Elio. Don’t tell me this was stupid.”

He’s quiet again. For a long time. My heart is pounding so hard I’m nauseous. I meant every word I said and as difficult as it is to think about, I know I did the right thing.

“You better hope you’re right about this, Piccolino.”

“I am,” I growl. “The treaty is black and white. This is ours now, and there isn’t shit they can say about it.”

“We’ll see about that at the meeting.”

The call ends and I drop my phone to the desk, burying my face in my hands. I can’t remember the last time I felt so fucking terrible for doing something. It’s been years. Fucking years since I’ve felt like this. I shake my head and go to the bar in the corner. I need a fucking drink.

Talking to him was almost harder than doing what I did in the first place. Admitting it was me who had to do that? Fucking hell.

I don’t know if he saw it. Don’t know if he sent someone else there. I won’t ask. I’ll only assume.

I hope to god he didn’t have to see our father like that. Even I couldn’t look at him after I did it, never mind after the body has been there rotting for a week. It was hard enough seeing our father over the last year, which is why I avoided it. He wasn’t the same person. Not the man I remember. Over the last year, he looked at me two ways. With hatred or confusion. Both fucking stung. I couldn’t handle it.

It’s better this way. What I did, I did it for us. For all of us.

It’s better this way.

It has to be because now I have to live with the consequences.

Chapter Sixty-Four

Vincenzo

The news of Amadeo Bramante’s death spreads like wildfire.

Per the treaty, an emergency meeting is called. And of fucking course, it has to be today. The day the doctor is scheduled to see Jordan for the baby.

“So,” Maximo begins. “We’re here as stated in the treaty. If one of the head of the families dies, we meet to discuss changes and announce the successor.”

“We don’t want any changes, other than our names being put in there instead of our father’s,” Elio says firmly. “This way there is no confusion moving forward.”

“The three of you?” Maximo asks with a shake of his head. “That’s not common.”

“There’s nothing against it,” I say. “And that’s what our father wrote in his clause.”

The clause I mention is the one each family has in the treaty which states who will handle things if the current head dies. They’re all aware of what’s in there, so I’m not sure where this is coming from.

“You’re right, but are you sure that’s a wise decision?” Maximo asks carefully, looking between the three of us.

“I don’t like you questioning our decisions,” I say.

“What my brother means to say,” Elio begins, shooting me a glare, “is we’ve discussed it thoroughly and are sure we’d like to move ahead with this. It’s what our father wanted, so we will make it work.”

“And who will have the 34%? You can’t split it between three of you evenly,” Maximo continues.