Page 166 of Jordan

“Good memory,” I mutter. “Where is Antonio?”

“Sweeping the second floor.”

“Rafael?”

“In his room.”

“I’ll be there. Have the car ready. We’re going to the Canvani’s in ten minutes.”

“Yes, boss.”

I make my way to Rafael’s room, finding the door slightly open and one of my guys standing outside of it. He gives me a small head nod before I walk in.

“Christ, Vincenzo,” Rafael says, jolting to his feet from his bed. “I thought they took you too.”

“Locked me in a fucking supply closet.”

“I don’t know what to do. I was freaking out. Antonio said to wait here, and he’d handle it, but I feel like I’ve been here forever and I’m fucking sick to my stomach because they have her. They have her, Vincenzo. They have Jordan and our babies.”

“Hey,” I say, moving to him and grabbing his face. “They do have her, but I am going to get her back.” He’s panting, his eyes wide, frantic. “Do you hear me?” I ask.

“Yes, I hear you, but—”

“I am going to get her back and I am going to end every one of those bastards for even thinking of laying hands on her. Never mind the dumbasses who did. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and wait?”

“You can do whatever is going to make you feel better.”

“I need to smoke a fucking joint.”

I huff out a laugh. “Then I’ll have someone bring you some weed. But I have to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I lean in to kiss him, turn out of the room, and head to the front where I find Rocco talking to Antonio.

“Fucking hell, boss. I thought Rocco was hallucinating. We thought you were gone.”

“They’re going to regret not killing me,” I bark. “Let’s go.”

I call Elio on the way, to let him know I’m alive, well, and free. Outside of a potential concussion, that is. He argues with me. Calls me stupid. Tells me I’m an idiot and goes off on a tangent in Italian that I only catch a few words of.

Sfigato. Deficiente. Mammalucco.

“Vai a cagare, Vincenzo. Don’t do this!”

I finally tell him he can either meet me there and help or he can vai a cagare—fuck off—and I end the call.

“What’s the plan?” Antonio asks.

I glance behind me to make sure everyone is following. There’re at least five cars full of men back there with orders to take out everyone in the fucking Canvani estate—I don’t give a fuck who they are. Their entire family will be slaughtered. The only person who will not have a hair on her head harmed, is my wife.

“Easy. Kill them all.”

“Well, yeah. But what about getting in?”

“We’ll do what we gotta do. They won’t be expecting us to retaliate so quickly. They’ll expect us to wait and plan. They’ll expect us to think clearly and rationally like Elio is demanding I do, which is why I’m not doing it.”

“What if she ain’t there?”

“Oh, she’ll be there.” I glance out the window. “Zachary will run to daddy for protection. She’ll be there. With him. And I can’t wait to put a bullet in his head for touching what is mine.”