33. Chapter Thirty-Three

The papers aren't signed.

I knew they wouldn't be, but I can't ignore the heavy feeling in my chest over it.

I told her she had a week, which ended on Saturday. I chose not to look at the papers until today, wondering if giving her a little extra time would make a difference. Clearly, it didn't, but I'm not mad about it. No, mad isn't what I'm feeling. Despondent, maybe. Her not signing these does nothing to make this more difficult. It changes absolutely nothing. Not legally, anyway.

I gather everything I need before Rocco and I leave the house.

Antonio is out for a week or two while he recovers. His vision is a fucking mess, thanks to Jordan's freak out. I'd considered giving her a stern talking to about respecting my men, but all things considered, I don't think it'll matter. Jordan will do what she wants, regardless of what I say. And knowing her the way I do, I'm sure she feels bad enough about it. She isn't a child. She knows she did something wrong. She doesn't need me pointing it out. Giving attention to the situation will only make her more rebellious, and I'd prefer she give in to me sooner rather than later. This all started as a bit of greed, of selfishness, maybe even payback, but the more snippets I get of how our life could be together, the more I want it. The dinners, the quick sex in the kitchen or the movie theater, coming home to her after a long day, her smile—it's all appealing.

Yes. Me, Vincenzo Bramante, is craving family life.

Rocco and I drop the papers off at the office of the marriage officiant I paid heavily to take care of this, and he assures me it will be taken care of within a few days.

There. That's it. Simple.

In a few days, I'll have a wife—officially.

When that's finished, Rocco and I head to the restaurant, where I have a meeting with Dario Canvani. After the concern of my brothers on Sunday, I told them I'd handle it. And I plan to. Not only for them, but for me too. Though I'm not worried about Dario, the less bullshit I have to deal with, the better. So if I can nip this in the bud, I will. Dario isn't happy with our arrangement, that much is clear.

Dario doesn't have a leg to stand on when it comes to starting turf wars, but with the rumors going around about my father, this would be a smart time to strike against my family. When people may assume we're weak. Little does Dario know, we're at our strongest. Now that we have fresh eyes and a new outlook, my brothers and I are ready to take over what our father has built. But Dario can think whatever the hell he wants. In fact, I hope he steps out of line, because I'd love nothing more than to put that ignorant fuck six feet underground.

The restaurant is a neutral place, one we use to conduct business. It's one of many that started because the families couldn't decide who got it, since it rests on a territory line. The ultimate response was to make it neutral ground, and that's how it's stayed, even after changing owners a handful of times since.

"Good evening, Mr. Bramante," the blond hostess, who is here every single time I come in, says. I'm pretty sure she's the owner's granddaughter or something. She, unlike most women I come across, doesn't look at me with little hearts in her eyes.

I give her a small tilt of my chin as a greeting and head through the diner-like restaurant, Rocco following closely behind me.

I find Dario at the back table, the one reserved for families only, his bodyguard, Lewie, standing beside him. He and Rocco step off to the side once I take my seat.

"Nice of you to be on time," Dario says. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be a joke or an insult.

"I'm always on time."

Dario is a pudgy man with thin, light brown hair and rosy cheeks. As a boy, he was probably doted on by his mother way too much, telling him he was adorable and perfect like a cherub. Too bad he grew into someone resembling an Oompa Loompa.

"Right. It's the other brother who's late. Marco. The funny one." Dario chuckles, but I don't find him funny.

"You're being rather bold today, Dario," I say stiffly.

"What can I say? I'm in a good mood." His smirk is too cocky for his own good. He's up to something.

"In a good mood, even though your son fucked everything up with Matteo Delise?" I lean forward as he frowns. In a lower voice, I add, "Should've taught your boy to keep his dick in his pants."

If he wants to play like this, I can play like this.

Dario is a moron. A little younger than my father, his son a lot younger than me. The man has tried for years to build his family to success, like the Bramantes or the Gaetanos, but it'll never happen. Not with the way he got his wife killed and never took another. Dario has one son, and couldn't be trusted to handle a dog, never mind a mafia family.

"My son hasn't done anything all the rest of us don't do. You'll see soon enough. Your wife's pussy won't cut it, and you'll find it elsewhere." Dario's cheeks are redder than usual.

"We'll see."

"Speaking off; how is the little dove?"

"Just wonderful." I smile, not wanting him to know that just him thinking about her makes me want to put a bullet through his head.

"I bet she is. Tight little pussy, am I right? She'd only lost her virginity about a year ago. From what I hear, her and my son didn't fuck often, so you practically have a virgin on your hands."

I blink slowly, keeping my anger in check. Killing him right now will only cause problems, so I shouldn't do that. I want to. Fuck, do I want to. But I won't.

"Because that's my concern. I'm not a teenager, Dario. I don't give a fuck about virgins."

The waitress stops at the table and gives us each a glass of scotch to. I pick mine up and sip it immediately. Dario ignores his.

"Anything to eat?" she asks politely.

"No," I say.

"I'm all set," Dario responds, keeping his hard gaze on me.

"Let me know if you change your mind," she says before walking away.

"What exactly is the problem, Dario? Why are we here?"

Of course it was me who called this meeting, but if I hadn't, he would have. We both know things aren't sitting right between us. He's made that known.

He nods his head. "I'm not comfortable with our deal anymore."

I huff out a laugh. "Well, that's too fucking bad. It's done."

"You're right, Vincenzo. It is done. However, there have been some recent concerns."

"Concerns?"

He nods. "The girl was engaged to my son for a while. Our families were close. I worry about her. I don't think she's in the right hands."

That's a load of shit if I've ever heard one, but I don't call him on it.

"And what the fuck does that mean?"

He leans close, tapping the table with his fat finger. "It means I know you're hiding something about your father. Something you don't want other people to find out, but I will find out what it is, and when I do, I'm taking you down and taking her back."

I hold his gaze and let a smile cross my lips. He stares at me as if he's got the upper hand. As if I'm afraid of his threats. I grab my drink and toss it back, putting the glass down and hissing out a satisfied sound.

"I'll enjoy watching you try, Dario."

I get to my feet, gesturing with two fingers for Rocco to follow me.

If this asshole thinks he can get away with threatening me, he's got another thing coming.

Once I'm in the car, I call Elio to give him the exciting news.