Page 49 of Jordan

I should walk out. Go to my room. Leave him alone. I don’t know why I’m arguing with him because all it’s doing is hurting me more.

“You don’t have to be miserable. Your lifestyle here won’t be any different from what it was with your father. In fact, it’ll be better. Besides, you’re the one making it miserable.” He takes a step closer to me, that stupid scent of his invading my nose again. “I’d give you everything you wanted. Make you happy. Satisfy you every single night. Day too, if you wanted. There are no limits to what I’ll do for my wife.”

Those words… those beautiful words. If this man were anyone else, if this situation were different, I’d swoon. Swoon so hard. But I can’t and I won’t because Enzo is only saying these things to make me compliant.

“Except I can’t leave. Have no say in how my day goes. Can’t get a job. Have friends. Can’t do anything I want!”

“Yeah…” He nods. “Except that.”

I slap him across the face so hard my hand stings. That’s the second time he’s let his guard down around me long enough for me to get a good slap in, and I have a feeling one of these days I am going to regret it.

He grits his teeth, his eyes closing as he takes in a slow and steady breath. The rage on his face is clear, and maybe that day is today. Right now. This very moment. The first time I slapped him, I didn’t know what he was capable of. Didn’t know who he really was. Now I do. Yet, I don’t seem to care.

When he opens his eyes, he smiles at me, and huffs out the smallest laugh. I can barely breathe.

“I don’t know a single person in this world who has the balls to do that, yet you’ve done it twice.” He takes another step toward me, and I step back, my heart pounding. “You know what that tells me?”

I shake my head, my mouth going dry.

“It tells me you’re nothing but a silly, immature little girl who has had a silver spoon shoved up her ass so fucking high it’s blinding her.” He keeps coming toward me, and I keep moving away. Until my back his the wall and I’m stuck. He places his palms against the wall beside my head, towering over me. That scent. That damn scent of his floods all over me. “The sooner you realize you have no option here, the sooner you realize you belong to me, the easier it’ll be for both of us. We can do this the hard way, or the easy way. Trust me, angel, either way will be fun for me. But what about you? You don’t want to live your life being miserable, I suggest you take the easy route and give. In. To. Me. I have no qualms about locking you in your room and playing the part of the beast. Know why?” I shake my head, cowering against the wall. “Because I am the fucking beast, Jordan. A big bad beast who owns you. And unlike the cute little fairytale, there will be no happy ending if you don’t get your shit together.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Vincenzo

I have this terrible urge to chase after her when she runs out of my office, but I keep my feet firmly in place. I’m not chasing after her like a dog. Regardless of how she feels on the matter, she is here, she will be my wife, and she’ll accept it eventually. Or she can spend her life being miserable. I don’t care either way. I’m still getting what I need of it. Forcing her will be just as fun as her giving herself to me. She’s the one who will choose how this goes.

Do I understand why she’s pissed? Of course. Do I care enough to give in? Absolutely not.

She is payment for a debt. She is a pawn in this game. Especially now, it’s needed more than ever. Family comes first, and only those with the strongest ties will make it to the end. There is a war coming. It’s unavoidable, but the Bramantes will come out on top. If my brothers and I don’t start our own families, our legacy dies with us. The empire my father built disappears. His mind may be gone, but I refuse to let everything he built go with it.

I’m stupid to have not done this sooner. All three of us are. Family should have been top priority, like he told us all those years ago. I still remember that Sunday dinner like it was yesterday. We should have listened then, but like the stubborn boys we are, we knew better. Of course we knew better. This is a new generation. Things are different. But they aren’t different. Not in this life. It’s always the same politics. Someone will always be there to stab you in the back, to take your food right out of your mouth the second they get the chance.

My brothers and I should have known things would change the second we found out about our father’s diagnosis, and maybe we did. Maybe we’ve all been living in denial. But it changes now. It has to. Because what else is any of this for if not to build it bigger and better for our children?

But aside from the dream of being on top, this is more. Jordan is more.

Something natural. Primal. Something inside me, urging me on.

It’s her.

I want her.

I want Jordan Delise as my wife. Period.

Regardless of what’s at stake with my family, I want her at my side.

As she stood in front of me, confidence front and center as she grilled me with questions, it didn’t annoy me like it would if anyone else had done it. It made me proud. Proud that she was sticking up for herself. Honestly, I could have chosen anyone to be in her position. And at any point. But that’s not what I want. Having actual feelings for her makes this more difficult, considering she wants nothing to do with me. There’s a part of me drawn to Jordan. A big part wants her and only her as my wife. I’m not a liar, but I’m not against bending the truth. At least for a little while. Which is why I’ll make sure she thinks this is all for show and nothing more. I won’t give her my weakness.

I chose Jordan Delise the moment we locked eyes on stage.

Right place, right time? Maybe for her wrong place, wrong time.

Saturday night did a lot for me. I learned a lot about Jordan that night. What I saw from her was raw. Her being who she is at the core, and not worried about putting on a front because of who was watching. She let go of everything holding her back because I made her feel safe. I took her control, and she gave it willingly. She gave herself over to me. That’s the part of her I want.

For whatever reason, it’s her I imagine by my side in all this, whatever that means for us. Maybe it’s the potential I see in her. Maybe it’s the fact I’ve already painted a picture of our future together because it’s so easy to see. Isn’t that an honest reason to marry someone?

I huff out a laugh. She isn’t making any of this easy, and I bet things are only going to get worse. But it’s okay. I’ll handle it. I’ll handle her. Once she accepts her fate, our future will be clear for her too.