Page 170 of Jordan

Antonio picks up his phone, listens for a second, and says one word. “Thanks.”

“They’re not on the other end or downstairs. Just a bunch of suits.”

“Fuck,” I bark, looking around frantically.

Something catches my eye out the window. I point at it. “There. What the fuck is that?”

“Looks like a guest house,” Antonio says.

“Get everyone on it now. No one goes in until I get there.”

I hurry back down the hall as Antonio makes the call, going back the way we came, down the stairs, and out the front and around the house because I’m not figuring out my way through this maze of a house. Twenty of my men are already surrounding the guest house when I reach it, and I hear Zachary yelling from inside already.

No hesitation on my part. I kick this fucking door in too. It splinters open, the bottom hinge snapping right out of the wood. That little prick has my girl with him, holding her against his chest, arm around her stomach, and a gun to her head.

She’s crying. Her hair is a mess. And she has a black eye.

“You hurt my wife?” I ask, taking a step closer to him. The rage that fills me is like nothing I have ever felt in my entire life. I don’t allow myself to give in to the rage I see over someone putting a mark on my wife. I won’t fuck this up because I can’t keep myself calm.

“Don’t come any fucking closer, Bramante. I will fucking shoot her.” He presses the barrel of the gun to her head, and she whimpers. His hand shakes, his eyes wild.

“You aren’t going to shoot her, Canvani. You don’t have the fucking balls.”

“I will!” he shouts, jerking toward me.

“Stop, please stop,” she cries, her chest shaking with sobs. “Zach, please. I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me go.”

“Tell her the truth, Vincenzo. Tell her how she was payment to you too. Tell her the fucking truth!”

“That isn’t the truth, and she knows it,” I say carefully.

“It is the truth! We all know it. She thinks you care about her, but I’ve been trying to tell her how it is. You don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself. You only took her for payment, but she’s my fucking payment! She was paid to me first!”

“And I paid off that debt, Zachary, with money. Much more than you were owed originally. To keep you the fuck away from her!” I bellow.

Her eyes widen.

“That’s the truth, and you know it,” I spit out. “I paid the money so you would leave her the fuck alone. So you wouldn’t come back and take her, because she isn’t yours. She’s mine. And not because of the money, but because I want her. That’s the fucking truth. The real fucking truth.” I take a step closer to him, but he’s still so fucking far away. “Now you are going to let her go, or I’m going to shove my fist so far up your fucking ass you’ll lick the shit off my fingers.”

He huffs out a disbelieving sound and shouts, “You motherfuckers think you’re so much better than me! I don’t get it. We got here the same as you did. We are part of the treaty, the same as you. Yet, you and Gaetano and those Irish fucking pricks all seem to think you’re better than us!” Zachary’s face is so red he looks like a damn tomato. The kid looks like he’s about to pass out any second now. Wish he would.

“Because we are!” I roar. “We are fucking better. Always have been fucking better. Canvani means shit to anyone and everyone. The Bramante family has made a name for themselves. Don’t be pissed at me that your father is a fucking pussy who couldn’t build the type of empire my father did.” I slam my hand against my chest, proving my point and taking another step closer.

“Does she know you killed him?” he asks.

“She sure as fuck does, wanna know why? Huh, Zachary?” I step closer. “Want to know how my wife knows I murdered my own fucking father? Because I don’t lie to her!”

“Bullshit! You’ll kill her like you killed your own father, and if you ever fill her with your babies, you’ll kill them too. If you can kill your own flesh and blood, no one is safe!”

I don’t react to that news. I was sure Dario would have told his son Jordan was pregnant. Why didn’t he?

Jordan’s lip trembles and tears fall from her eyes. The look on her face hurts me right to my core. The worry in her eyes? It kills me. Like she’s thought about me hurting her or our child. She’s worried about it. It stings.

“That is a lie,” I say. “She knows I would never hurt her.”

“He’s right,” Jordan says, her voice shaking. For a second I think she’s talking to him, but when her eyes meet mine, I realize that isn’t the truth. I feel as if I’ve been shot. Right through the fucking chest. “Zachary is right, Enzo. I-I’m not safe with you.”

“See!” he barks, still pressing the gun to her head.