Page 34 of Jordan

“With?”

“Something I can’t discuss.”

“Discuss it because I’m not going.”

He sighs again. “I need you to do this for me, Enzo.”

There’s desperation in his voice. I’ve never heard it from him before.

I grit my teeth. “Sei fortunato ad essere mio fratello,” I mutter. One of the few phrases I know well in Italian since I’ve said it to my brothers so damn often. “Fine.”

“I owe you.”

“Goddamn right you do.”

I end the call and I toss my phone to the desk again, hoping it’ll smash to pieces and be unusable. I turn my attention to the monitors. While I was distracted by my father being unsupervised and my brother thinking he’s in charge, Jordan dashed out of the car. She’s making her way down the road. I tap the other screen to focus on the camera showing the gate and enlarge it, so the screens are side by side. Antonio realizes she’s running but does as I say and lets her go. I watch as she moves to the edge of the cliff. Would be a shame if she fell off. Such a beautiful girl wasted.

It’s clear she thinks better of it when she steps back, which almost makes me laugh. No one would be so stupid to try to scale around the column. Though, she is pretty desperate to leave, so maybe she would.

She throws a little fit. Starts crying. Antonio talks to her. I watch the whole thing play out in front of me, and maybe for a split second I feel bad. It must suck to be in this situation, I get that. But it doesn’t have to be this way. If only she’d accept her fate, I’d give her everything she wants. When Antonio finally gets her in the car, I make my way downstairs to meet her at the front door.

“What do you want me to do with her?” Antonio asks. I glance at the car. It’s running, the AC probably blasted to cool her down.

“I’ll get her,” I say.

“Her feet are scraped up bad.”

“Expect they would be.”

I tug the door open when I reach the car, noting how dirty and sweaty she is.

“Are you done being a brat?”

“I’m not a brat,” she snaps.

“Are you walking inside or am I carrying you?”

She glares at me, growls, and gets out of the car. She holds her chin high and makes her way up the steps. It’s clear in the way she’s walking her feet hurt, but I’ll give it to her—she’s a stubborn one.

I move past her and enter the house. When she steps into the large foyer, she looks around, almost surprised. She shouldn’t be. It’s just another rich-guy’s house. I’m sure she’s been in plenty of them.

“I’ll show you to your room.”

“I get my own room?” she asks with mock surprise.

I look at her over my shoulder. “I like my privacy.” She scowls, like that’s an insult. “If you want company, I can put you with Rafael.”

“Rafael lives here?” she gapes. “Willingly?”

I head up the stairs, ignoring her comment.

“So I can fuck him whenever I want?” she asks. It’s clear she’s trying to get a rise out of me. I’m not stupid. She’s pissed. She’s Italian and has a temper. But if this is the best she’s got, she’s going to be disappointed. The least she could do is be a little creative. I mean, I watched them fuck many times. Does she think it’s going to make me jealous if they do it again?

I smirk, knowing she can’t see it. I glance at her over my shoulder. “You can try.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

I don’t answer her, knowing it’s going to annoy her more than the truth will.