Page 46 of Jordan

I end the call and swivel in my chair to stare at the monitors.

My little angel is still in the dining room, right where I left her.

Much to my surprise, she didn’t try to escape while I was gone. I was sure it would be at the top of her list of things to do. Though, she has been scoping the area. Probably looking for a way out. She won’t find one. I think we both know that. She won’t accept it until she realizes it herself, so I won’t waste my time telling her. Watching her try to solve this puzzle is fun, so she can have at it.

I get up and head to the bar across the room to pour myself a drink. I take it down in one gulp, hissing at the burn as I pour another. I shoot that one back too, fill the cup a third time, and move to the window to stare out into the bleak darkness that is my life.

Chapter Twenty-One

Jordan

I sit at the dining room table for a long time, all alone, staring at the sheets of paper and pen in front of me.

Just a few simple sheets of paper. So fragile. So thin. I could tear them up and toss them away. Destroy them for good.

But it won’t make a difference. He’ll only get more. We could play this game over and over, and in the end, I won’t win. I’m being forced into a marriage with a man I used to look up to. One I shared family dinners with. One my family trusted.

Now? I can’t stand to look at him.

I won’t win this battle. I’m smart enough to know I won’t win them all, and that’s okay.

What is marriage, anyway? A legally binding contract? Maybe I can use it to my advantage somehow. Rack up credit card bills, put him into debt. I mean, the possibilities are endless, aren’t they? Being his wife would mean something, right? I need to get ahead of him—need to let him think I’m being compliant and agreeable but stay on my toes. Everyone has a weak spot, and I have a feeling the only way I’ll figure out Enzo’s is by getting close to him. By letting him think he can trust me.

I won’t sign those papers though.

I’ve thought about it. It’d be a slap in the face to my father. I should sign them so he knows I did it willingly, as a fuck you to him. Allowing my father to know Enzo didn’t have to force me would be a way to get back at him, a thing that would hurt. I should tell him about Saturday too, throw it in his face, so he knows I’m choosing Enzo instead of him. That I’m not fighting to go back to him, the same way he didn’t fight for me.

But making things more difficult for Enzo is more satisfying than hurting my father. Regardless of what my father has done to me, whatever situation he’s in to have made him think this is his only answer, he is still my father. I love him and care about him. People do terrible things in desperate situations. Yet I don’t know what he did, if he did anything at all. For all I know, Enzo made it up. Maybe he’s blackmailing my father because of what happened Saturday night.

This could all be my fault.

Me. My fault.

Signing those papers won’t make anything more difficult for Enzo, but at least he’ll know I’m not backing down.

I sigh, resting my head against the chair.

Dad, what the hell did you do?

My father and I haven’t had a single fight my entire life. The closest thing was when he found out I’d broken up with Zach. He was upset. He didn’t yell or scream, he just tried talking me into going back to him. Told me how disappointed he was. It hurt—a lot. I didn’t tell him that, though. I shut up and took what he gave me because I felt, at the time, I deserved it. Maybe I’d made a mistake in letting Zachary go. But the thought soon left my head after only a few days of being back home and realizing how much better I felt.

Why didn’t I tell my father the truth, though? Let him know how I really felt about all of it. Maybe if he’d known how upset his words made me, he wouldn’t have pushed me to go back to Zach. Wouldn’t have fueled the rebel inside me that made me apply for the key party. My father and I have always had a great relationship, which is what makes all of this so hard to believe.

Has anything in my life not been a lie? Anything that was what it seemed? Because right now, I can’t figure out what is truth and what are lies.

Tears pool in my eyes. I blink and they stream down my face. I wish I had answers.

I glance at the paperwork on the table again. It’s almost like they’re staring right back. Taunting me. Laughing like the guards.

I glance around the room again, catching one of the devil’s henchmen walking by the window. Doing his rounds. This place is locked down like a damn fortress.

The mafia. It makes more sense the more I see of this place.

I bet there are people out there who want Enzo dead. Which means…

Shit.

If they find out he’s taken a wife, they’ll want my head too.