Page 179 of Jordan

“Thought about killing myself, you know.” He puffs on his cigar. “Couldn’t do it.”

“Cause you’re a coward,” I add.

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

“You fucked up asking for time with the treaty.”

“I know.”

“Everything that was yours will now be mine.”

“I know.”

“How does it feel?” He looks up at me, raising a brow. “Knowing you’ve spent your whole life chasing a dream that someone else is taking?”

“It feels… like nothing.”

“Good.” I lift my gun. “I wanted to draw this out. Thought about it for weeks—of how I would torture you, make you suffer, enjoy it. But now? All I want to do is end this so I can go back home to my wife. To my family.”

“Family is—”

His words are cut off when I pull the trigger, the bullet landing right through his eyes. His lips part, and he slumps sideways.

This doesn’t feel as good as I hoped it would, but at least it’s over. It’s done, and now I can go home.

Elio keeps his eyes on Dario as I walk by him, and I don’t hear him coming after me when I move down the stairs, but what he does isn’t my problem. I’m going the fuck home. A month is too long to have been away.

On the way, I get my men on Canvani’s territory, officially staking claim over it. It’ll be divided equally among my brothers and me to handle, officially making us the family to own the most property. Gaetano and Bramante were equal, with the Irish right behind. Now, we have a decent cut ahead of everyone else. And one day, that decent amount will turn into a large amount. And it will continue until we have everything. Because nothing is ever going to be good enough for my family. I won’t settle. I will fight until they have the absolute best of everything.

“More territory, more trouble,” I mutter on the ride home. The thought hits me like a ton of bricks.

“You can handle it, boss,” Antonio says.

I stare out the window and watch the desert as we drive back to my house, knowing the trouble I’m about to face is going to be so much worse than anything these mafia fucks can send my way.

Chapter Seventy-Five

Jordan

Thirty-two days.

It feels like forever, but it’s only thirty-two days. Nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Still, to my heart, it feels like forever.

I don’t know what I would have done if I were alone. I don’t think I would have made it through. But I have Rafael by my side. Rafael didn’t leave me.

I understand why Enzo did this, but it doesn’t make it okay. Not a single bit. He could have been here, could have spoken to me, told me what he was doing. He could have checked on me. I’ve been so angry with him. So damn sad.

Yet, I still fall into his arms when he steps into the kitchen where Rafael and I are eating. I don’t miss how Rafael stays put. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. He’s gone back and forth on his feelings over this, and I’m not sure how he’s going to react.

Being in Enzo’s arms is like a deep breath after being under water for far too long.

“I’ve missed you, angel,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my neck.

I squeeze him tighter, fighting the tears in my eyes. I don’t ever want to let him go.

Every bit of anger I’ve felt over this last month has withered away, somehow turning into a pathetic desperation for him. I don’t even care. I just want him here with me.