Something in me breaks and reforms around the evidence.
Who is this woman, really?
She’s entirely different from the moon-eyed spiritualist peddling self-help and the victim I wrenched from her home. Not the fragile thing I expected.
She has a steel core, a quick mind, and a talent for manipulation I haven’t seen since Vanya, the best social engineer in the whole family.
She turned that cop inside out. She parried or redirected every question, guiding him away from danger while convincing him she had nothing to hide.
He never stood a chance.
And the part I can’t wrap my head around?
She lied to protect me.
That changes everything.
She’s a blade hidden in velvet. And for reasons I can’t begin to guess, she just shielded me from danger.
Flawless. Natural as air.
Respect hits first, slicing a line straight through my assumptions.
Disbelief follows.
Why the hell would she do that? Why would she protect me?
This doesn’t compute. Not in any world I’ve ever known.
People act for leverage. Self-interest. That’s the only constant in my universe, the one rule that doesn’t waver. Every choice is about gain or avoiding loss.
One move, one word, and Jordan could have walked away. Free. Left me behind while she had the detective by her side. With her people filling the hotel, she could disappear before I caught up to her.
But she didn’t. She threw freedom away.
Even if she knows the police aren’t any safer than I am—she’s not stupid enough to think we don’t have eyes and ears in the precinct—she could’ve stepped out into the hall to speak with the cop. Used the chance to bolt and slip into the crowd. She’s a runaway with experience.
My mind cycles through explanations, each more hollow than the last.
Fear? No, her act was too smooth, too calculated. Some hidden benefit I can’t see? Maybe. But what could she possibly gain by staying with me?
The detective’s footsteps fade and Jordan remains still, her forehead pressed against the wood, her shoulders heaving with every breath. When she finally pivots, the mask she wore for the cop shatters, and her body sags against the door like someone’s yanked the bones from her frame. Exhaustion leaks into every line.
“Why?” The word rips out of me, raw and uncontrolled. No finesse. Just need.
She huffs a dry laugh. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you were standing right there, promising death?” She shoves herself away from the door and shuffles into the room. “Cops can’t touch guys like you. Not really. Not before you could get to me or Ashley.”
That’s true. But there’s more than one way out for her. She could’ve tried.
Her eyes flash with an emotion sharper than fear. Anger, maybe. The line between the two blurs. “My father chased guyslike you for a living. You’re above it all. You take what you want and no one can stop you.”
Untrue.
I don’t exist above anything.
I sit exactly where Roman puts me. In the streets, alleys, and warehouses, my hands bloody while doing what needs to be done to keep our family safe.
But I don’t tell her that. I just watch, riveted, as some entity inside Jordan tears open with a violence that has nothing to do with fists.
