Page 30 of The Dante (Those (Damn!) Texas Dantes #1)

She crossed her arms as though shielding herself. “I had to try something. He’s been pulling the strings, manipulating you. Ithought if I could talk to him—”

“You thought what?” He leaned forward, voice low and hard. “That a polite conversation would make him back off? That he’d suddenly decide to play nice?”

“I had to do something!” Jazz snapped. “You weren’t doing anything and I was terrified he’d hurt you. Kill you.”

His jaw tightened. “You think I wasn’t handling it?”

The accusation grated against something raw inside him.

Of course she thought that—because she hadn’t seen the moves he was making, the pressure he was applying behind the scenes.

She only saw what was in front of her, what she thought he wasn’t doing.

But she didn’t know the pieces he’d already set in motion, the traps that were laid.

And now, because she’d walked right into the fire, he had to accelerate everything before it was ready.

“I think you were letting him manipulate you.”

Titus counted to three before responding, anger and frustration threatening the calm he struggled to maintain. Then his gaze tightened, his body going still. “Did he touch you?” His voice was softer now, but not gentle. There was something lethal beneathit.

Jazz blinked, startled. “What?”

“Did. He. Touch. You?” Each word was deliberate, cutting.

She hesitated, just for a second, before she swallowed. “He grabbed my arm. He tried to intimidate me.”

Titus’s jaw tightened, his fingers flexing at his sides.

Heat wound through his gut, dark and dangerous.

He could picture it too easily—Vex’s hand on her, the way she must have looked, standing her ground but vulnerable.

And he hadn’t been there. He’d been handling things, setting up the pieces, thinking he had control—while Vex had his hands on hiswife.

“That piece of shit! How dare he touch you. I won’t allow anyone to put you at risk. Ever.”

Before, Titus had intended to take Vex down, to dismantle him piece by piece. But that had been before he knew the full extent of Vex’s betrayal. Before he had seen the fear flicker in Jazz’s eyes when she recalled his grip onher.

Now? Now, he was going to obliterate him.

He wasn’t just eliminating a threat—he was sending a message.

No one touched what was his and walked away unscathed.

Every move Vex had made, every attempt to get the upper hand, was about to be turned against him.

He was a dead man walking—he just didn’t know ityet.

“He won’t make that mistake again,” Titus said, his voice like steel, cold and final. The fury inside him burned low, but it was there, simmering just beneath the surface. He hadn’t been there to stop it, hadn’t been there to rip Vex’s hand off his wife. That wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t.

Jazz released a shuddering breath, her shoulders sagging slightly, but he wasn’t done. His voice remained cold, restrained. “And after you left his office, what happened?”

She hesitated, her arms tightening around herself. “I overheard him on the phone.”

Titus straightened away from the desk, arms unfolding as he pushed off it, his stance shifting from calm to unmistakable demand. “Who was he talking to?”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I’m not sure. He was furious, saying he wanted you taken down. That he wasn’t waiting anymore. That whoever he was talking to needed to move now.”

Titus stiffened, the pieces locking into place. “He wasn’t just speaking to someone. He was speaking to the Feds.”

Jazz’s breath caught. “ You think—”

“I know.” His voice was flat, final. “Vex was never just working against me. He was working with them. You showing up gave them exactly what they needed to move. They were waiting for you, Jazz.”

She froze, her expression twisting. “What?”

“My assets were frozen after you left his office.” Titus’s voice was like ice. “You didn’t know?”

She shook her head, her eyes wide, shock bleeding through her expression. “No… I—Ididn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t.” He raked a hand through his hair.

“That’s why I got the call. That’s why the Feds moved when they did.

You walked into Vex’s office and gave them exactly what they needed to justify taking their shot.

Jesus Christ, Jazz. You didn’t just walk into his trap—you handed him the fucking knife. ”

Titus saw it—the way she kept herself rigid, as if sheer will alone could hold her together. And for a second, it almost undidhim.

He wanted to look away, to ignore the tension rippling across her shoulders, how her breath came just a little too fast. But he didn’t.

He forced himself to watch, to remember.

Because this moment—the way she looked at him now, like he had broken something fragile inside her—was what he needed her to hold on to when he forced her to walkaway.

“Titus, I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” His voice was quieter now, but no less crisp.

“Didn’t realize you were being played? Didn’t think that maybe, just maybe, there was a reason I was handling things my way?

” He shook his head, his frustration laced with something heavier—something closer to disappointment.

“My hands are tied without my assets, Jazz. And you just made damn sure I can’t move the way I need to. ”

She paused, realization creeping across her face. “You think I made it worse?”

Titus didn’t answer. His jaw locked, breath pressing tight in his chest. He should look away, should turn this moment into nothing more than another tactical move.

But for a split second, he couldn’t. He watched the realization settle in her eyes, saw the way her shoulders squared as if bracing for the final blow.

And then, he steadied the storm inside him before it could crack through his voice.

Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “You think I was bait.”

“I know you were.” His voice was steady, but the taut edge remained. “And now, Ihave to fix this before it gets worse.”

The frustration in her eyes wavered, tangled with hurt, as if she was trying to understand how he could be so cold. “That’s what this is to you? Just something to fix?” she asked her voice unsteady, but edged with raw emotion.

“That’s exactly what this is.”

Titus forced his emotions into a tight, boxed-in space. The rage remained, simmering beneath his skin, but it wasn’t just rage—it was something deeper, something heavier. Betrayal. Frustration. The bitter edge of regret he refused toname.

He couldn’t afford to let any of it show, couldn’t afford to give her even a glimpse of the war raging inside him.

He ran a hand over his face, then straightened, stepping toward her.

Distance was the only thing keeping him from making a mistake.

Amistake he couldn’t afford. And yet, he couldn’t resist pulling her into hisarms.

Jazz flung herself into his hold. He saw the flicker of something in her eyes—hope, hesitation—but he needed to shut down her emotions before they could grow. This wasn’t the moment for comfort, and he couldn’t let her believe itwas.

Even so, for an instant something flared between them.

Aspark, hot and untamed, as real as the Dante Brand burned into their palms. He felt it, deep and undeniable, but he couldn’t acknowledge it.

Couldn’t give it substance. If he did, if he let himself surrender to the pull of it, in the force tethering them together, she would never leave. And she had to leave.

Her breath hitched, her lips parting as if she could feel it too—this pull, this force neither of them could deny. His grip tightened involuntarily, his thumb brushing over her skin, memorizing the warmth of her, the softness. It would be so easy. Tooeasy.

He could take her again. Right here. Right now. And she would let him. She wouldn’t stop him. She’d press closer, tilt her head just enough for his mouth to claim hers, just like before. The thought sent something dark twisting through his chest, desire laced with frustration, with regret.

Because this wasn’t a reunion. It wasn’t salvation. It was a goodbye in disguise.

That was the problem.

Titus pulled back abruptly, severing whatever had just passed between them. He turned, reached for his phone, and without looking at her, he said, “Call your lawyer.”

Jazz stiffened. “What?”

“Call. Your. Lawyer.” His voice left no room for argument.

She shook her head, confusion flickering across her face. “Why?”

He looked up, his gaze locking onto hers, unreadable and unwavering. “Because I need access to your inheritance.”

Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening in the shredded fabric of her dress, as though it could shield her from the barrage of emotions threatening to pull them both under.

Titus saw it—the way she pulled the fabric tighter, her knuckles whitening, the way she hugged herself, as if she could make herself smaller.

She crouched before him. Vulnerable. Exposed.

And it gutted him.

He forced his expression to stay cold, but inside, something twisted so violently it made him feel unsteady.

He had hurt her—he could see it, could feel it like a physical thing in the space between them.

And yet, he had no choice. If she didn’t leave now, she’d be in even greater danger.

This was the only way to keep her safe, even if it meant making her hate him to doit.

His chest tightened, but he didn’t let himself soften. He couldn’t afford to. Not now. “You… knew? You knew Poppy passed our grandfather’s inheritance to me? That it wasn’t going to charity?”

The words came out uneven, barely a whisper, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

She searched his face, looking for something—anything—that would soften the blow.

But there was nothing. Just the same unreadable expression, the same unwavering stare that made her feel like the earth beneath her was crumbling.

“Of course, I knew.”

Her world tilted. “How long?”

“Long enough to know I need it. And that you’ll give it to me. Now call your lawyer and have him transfer the money into this account.” He handed her a slip of paper. “Do it now.”

Silence crashed between them, thick and heavy, pressing in like an invisible force.

The air in the room felt colder now, as if all the warmth from before had been stolen away.

The importance of unspoken words settled between them, thick with everything they weren’t saying—everything he wouldn’t let himselfsay.

Jazz’s lips parted, but no words came out. Then, finally, she forced out, “How is this any better than what my father did to me?”

His answer was brutal. Unforgiving. “Your father wanted to use you. I’m protecting you.”

Her stomach twisted. “So that’s it? Iwas just a financial asset to you after all?”

Titus’s expression didn’t flicker. “We’ve had this conversation before. Love doesn’t protect people in my world. Power does.”

Jazz jerked back like he’d struck her. The hurt flickered across her face, her hands trembling at her sides. Continuing to clutch her torn dress to herself, she rose and took a step back, then another, like she needed to put distance between them. “You really are the man everyone warned me about.”

“I am. So, walk away, Jazz. If you love me, walk away.”

Titus didn’t move, didn’t speak after that.

He just watched her, every muscle locked, every instinct screaming at him to stop her.

To take it back. But he couldn’t. If she stayed, if she saw even a flicker of hesitation, she would never leave.

So he forced himself to remain still, to let her believe it, even as it ripped something vital out ofhim.

He let her walkaway.

Because it was the only way to keep hersafe.