Page 23 of The Enforcer (Damn! #2)

Zane took a deep breath, then tossed back his bourbon.

“They weren’t trying to scare me. And it wasn’t about Blackthorn directly, not anymore.

If they’d wanted to come for me, they would’ve done it clean.

This was about Lily. Every shot, every setup, it all led to her.

Whatever she tripped, it set off a chain reaction.

First came the hit on the way to the penthouse.

Then a sniper tried to take her out while she was standing at the window in my fucking apartment.

Two hits in a row. Sharp. Surgical. And too damn close.

That’s not coincidence. That’s an execution order. ”

“Why?”

Zane’s eyes went to steel. “They want her gone. Either to tie off a loose end or to send a message. She’s not just a target. She’s leverage. So I’m locking that door before they try again.”

Titus’s expression didn’t change, but the temperature in the room dropped a solid ten degrees.

“You think someone’s targeting her specifically?”

“Yes. And not just to scare her. To eliminate her.”

“Again. Why?”

Zane’s brow furrowed. “Three reasons I can see. One, she accessed something dangerous, and they’re eliminating her before she traces it back.

Two, she’s a loose end, and her disappearance prevents anyone from linking that breach to them.

And three, this is a message. A warning shot dressed like a kill order.

‘We can reach her. Even with your name on her.’ They’re testing us.

Seeing how far they can go before we retaliate. That makes this personal.”

Titus rested one hand lightly on the arm of his chair, the other wrapped around his glass, every inch of him still and watching. But when he finally spoke again, it was with the same lethal clarity as a sword being unsheathed. “And your solution is marriage?”

“No one touches a Dante wife. No one’s stupid enough.”

“So the priest—”

“Is here to marry us.”

Before Titus could reply, the door burst open.

“Lily!”

Jazz.

Visibly pregnant, flushed and frantic, Jazz barreled into the room like a force of nature and collided with Lily so hard it nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. Lily didn’t brace. Didn’t resist. The second her sister’s arms wrapped around her, something inside her cracked open, wide and raw.

All the restraint, all the shock she’d been clinging to like armor shattered.

The tears came fast, scalding, silent. Her shoulders shook with the force of them, her fists curling into Jazz’s back like she could attach herself there, like if she just held on tight enough, she wouldn’t fall apart completely.

Jazz held her tighter, whispering, “I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’m here.” Lily barely heard it even though it was soft and fierce and impossible to ignore, and something in her clung to it like oxygen. Then Jazz turned.

“You absolute bastard,” she said to Zane, fury crackling under every word.

“You didn’t tell me. You didn’t even give me a warning.

She’s my sister, good and loyal, and my blood, and you just shoved her into this like it was a chess move.

She’d never taint the Dante name. Do you have any idea what she’s been through?

What this is doing to her? You should’ve come to me.

You should’ve said something. Anything.”

“You think I wanted this?” Zane snapped, exasperated, his voice cutting sharp through the tension.

“You think I like dragging her into this war? Watching her shake because of decisions I didn’t give her time to understand?

I hate this. But it doesn’t matter what I feel.

What matters is that she’s alive to be mad about it. ”

Titus’s voice was low. Final. “Enough.”

He stepped between them and looked Lily in the eyes.

“You’re marrying him. Today. Now.”

“The hell I am—”

“This isn’t a debate. You’re marrying into protection. You’ll carry our name. Our mark. Anyone who comes after you after that, is declaring war on the Dantes.”

Jazz’s voice rose. “At least give her time to clean up. To change. She’s not even dressed to get married—”

Zane didn’t look at her. Didn’t argue. Instead, he turned to Titus and raised his hand.

In the center of his palm, the tattoo shimmered faintly in the low light, a dove etched in stark black ink, lines precise, unshakable. The Dante Brand.

Lily gasped, sharp and involuntary, more confusion than understanding. She didn’t know what it meant, only that the room had gone still the second it appeared, like someone had dropped a live wire in the middle of the floor.

Something had shifted, Zane, Titus, even Jazz. The tension rewrote itself in an instant. And she was the only one who didn’t understand why. Whatever that ink was, whatever it symbolized, it changed everything. Everyone looked at Zane differently. Looked at her differently.

Titus stared for a long moment. Then he nodded once, clipped and final. “One hour. Then the wedding. No delays.”

Lily blinked. Once. Twice. The room spun.

Her hands clenched into fists. “Are you all seriously planning my life around me like I’m not even here?”

“Correct,” Zane said.

Her fury exploded. “You son of a—”

But Jazz pulled her into another hug. “I’ll explain,” she whispered. “I’ll explain once we’re alone.”

And Lily, to her own horror, sobbed again.

This time, no one said a word.

THE GUEST bedroom was quiet, quieter than Lily expected, considering her whole life had just been ripped out from under her.

The door clicked shut behind them, muffling the tension from the hallway.

Jazz moved with a purpose, already rifling through a closet before Lily had even taken a full breath.

“We only have an hour and when Titus says an hour, he means it. So, shower. Now,” Jazz said gently, but firmly. “Hot water. You need it. I’ll find something for you to wear.”

Lily didn’t argue. Her hands were still shaking as she stripped out of the borrowed clothes Zane had given her, stepping under the spray and letting the heat work its way into her bones. Steam filled the small, attached bath, but it didn’t quiet the riot in her head.

Thoughts crashed and careened, Zane’s command, Titus’s threats, Jazz’s shock, the priest waiting for them.

Her heart pounded like it was trying to outrun the decisions being made without her.

Every drop of water sliding down her skin felt like a countdown.

She was being marched to a marriage she hadn’t chosen, to a man who’d once pinned her to a wall like a threat.

.. and now claimed to be her shield. It made no sense.

None of this did. And yet the scalding water couldn’t burn the panic out of her chest.

By the time she emerged, towel wrapped tight around her body, Jazz had a gown laid across the bed. It was soft bronze, simple and sleek, with subtle shimmer woven into the fabric. No lace, no beads. Just elegance. Lily ran her fingers over it, heart thudding.

“It’s unworn,” Jazz offered. “Poppy bought it for some gala she skipped. But it’s yours now.”

Lily slipped into the gown. The bronze hugged her body without suffocating her, the tone catching the golden flecks in her hazel eyes. She barely recognized herself in the mirror.

Jazz wordlessly brought her to the vanity, fingers already working through her damp hair.

She blow-dried it smooth, then twisted it into a low, elegant bun, leaving a few pieces loose to frame her face.

Then came makeup, light, precise, but enough to make Lily look less shell-shocked and more… bridal. It was surreal.

“Jazz?” Lily asked quietly as her sister dabbed gloss onto her lips. “The tattoo. On Zane’s hand. The dove. What is it?”

Jazz met her gaze in the mirror. Calm. Steady. “Look at your own palm.”

Lily frowned, then turned her hand over.

The air stilled.

Etched into the center of her skin, faint but unmistakable, was a matching dove. Same shape. Same line work. Her breath hitched. Her pulse stuttered.

She blinked hard, once, twice, but the image didn’t vanish.

It sat there on her skin like a verdict.

Like proof. As if it had always been there, waiting to be revealed.

Her fingers trembled as she tried to touch it, trace it, make sense of it, because no one had touched her palm.

No ink had ever stained her hand. And yet here it was, definite and quietly final.

“What…” Her voice cracked. “What is this?”

“That’s the Dante Brand,” Jazz said softly. “It appears when a Dante touches his soul mate.”

Lily stared at her palm like it had betrayed her. Like it had decided something she hadn’t agreed to. “This is real?”

Jazz nodded. “Very.”

Her sister turned her palm over without a word.

Lily’s breath caught.

There, blazing with subtle color like fire beneath glass, was a phoenix, wings spread, head arched, inked across the center of Jazz’s skin. It shimmered with heat and beauty and something older than either of them had words for.

“This one’s mine,” Jazz said, voice low. “It started to appear the night Titus touched me for the first time. Scared the hell out of me. Still does, some days.”

Lily couldn’t stop staring. Her gaze flicked between her own palm and Jazz’s, between the soft, gray-toned dove and the blazing phoenix inked like fire on her sister’s skin.

“You’re telling me this mark means I’m his…

soul mate?” The word caught in her throat, heavy and absurd. “We haven’t even gone on a date.”

Jazz nodded slowly. “Time doesn’t seem to matter. And it’s not just symbolic. It’s… binding. Final. Once it appears, it doesn’t fade. And it doesn’t lie.”

Lily stared at her palm again, heart thudding against her ribs like it was trying to beat its way out. Her fingers curled instinctively, but the mark remained, hidden now, but not gone. Nothing about this felt real. Or fair. Or rational.

“I didn’t feel it,” she whispered. “Didn’t even know it happened.”

“That’s how it works,” Jazz said gently. “It doesn’t ask for your permission. Just your truth.”