Jazzy loves me.I want to smile at the thought. I know she does. The connection we have isn’t one that will ever disappear, no matter how much time or space has been put between us. But if I really want to be with her, I need to change things first. I need to make sure it’s safe for her to be associated with me.
Taking out five of the wealthiest families in the country isn’t going to be easy, and I’ll likely fail. But at least I’ll go down trying.
“It would be easier to help you if I knew why The Court was coming for you,” Emmanuel presses.
“You know I can’t divulge that information,” I remind him.
“Why the fuck not? They’re coming to kill you anyway,” Elias adds.
I shake my head. “I know you think you’re above everyone, everything. But even your organization pales in comparison to what The Court is capable of.”
Elias snorts. “Yeah, sure it is.”
Emmanuel clears his throat. “If you won’t tell me why, then what part does Jasmine play in this?”
Everything,I want to say but don’t. “She was seen with me. Anyone they think I care about is going to be a target.”
“So go and do whatever it is they want you to do. Make yourselfnot a target,” Emmanuel suggests. “You’ve been managing to do that for the last thirteen years.”
“I can’t.” If I do what they want, Jazzy gets hurt in a way I won’t ever be able to undo.
“I can only think of one reason why you wouldn’t do their bidding, Jacob.” Emmanuel scratches at his chin. “And that would be whatever they want you to do would have an impact on my niece.”
I blink. Sometimes this fucker is too fucking on the ball. I don’t confirm or deny the accusation. I can’t.
“Your silence speaks volumes,” Emmanuel says. “I’m going to assume The Court is coming after my friends.”
I don’t move a single muscle in my face. He’s right, though. The Court wants to hand Louie, Carlo, and Sammie over to the feds on a silver fucking platter, with enough evidence they’ve collected over the years to ensure those men never see the light of day again. They don’t just want them behind bars. They want Jazzy’s father and uncles to get the death penalty.
It’s been years since Nevada’s had an execution, but with The Court’s backing, they’ll be able to cut through all the red tape.
“How much does The Court have on them?” Emmanuel asks.
I sigh. “Enough that they’ll push for the death penalty,” I finally say. Maybe letting him help won’t be as bad as I imagined.
Who am I kidding?Letting anyone in on this is putting them at risk.
“I’m handling it,” I add.
“Yeah, I can see that.” Emmanuel looks around the office. “I’m sorry for your loss. Your parents didn’t deserve what happened to them.” His way of reminding me I’m really not handling shit right now.
My jaw clenches. Anger pulses through me. I can’t fall apart again. I let that happen earlier. With Jazzy, it’s easy to let go. But I’ve got shit to do. I need to keep myself together. For her.
My phone lights up with a message. Checking the screen and seeing Bradley’s name, I throw the device back down on the desk. I came into the office, not really wanting to be at my parents’ house while Emmanuel’s cleaners were in there.
It’s quiet. No one is here this late. I’ve had to deal with the funeral home. My parents’ bodies are still being held for investigation but should be released in a couple of days. The funeral will be held next Monday.
I rub at my face. I’m fucking tired. Maybe I should just grab Jazzy and run. I have enough funds to give us both new identities and survive literally anywhere else in the world. I might be able to pull that off. And I know if I asked her, she’d come with me.
I wouldn’t want to do that to her, take her away from her family. She loves them. They love her. I can’t be that selfish when it comes to her. I wish I could be. It’d make shit a hell of a lot easier.
My phone vibrates again. Bradleyagain. This time, he’s calling. I hit the red button, ignoring him. I can’t talk to him. I have no doubt he ratted me out to his father. Told him Jazzy was at the house with me. Which is why those assassins conveniently arrived not long after I kicked him out.
“You know, for someone with a price on their head, your buildings are extremely accessible.” The voice at the threshold of my office has my head snapping up. Carlo Bianchi is standing there. Fucking hell, last time I saw him, he was beating the shit out of me. And I was letting him.
“Come for round two?” I lift a brow.
“Don’t tempt me,” he grunts, walking into my office and sitting in the chair opposite me. “My daughter seems to think you’re in some kind of trouble and is beside herself. So, what is it? What did you do that has The Court coming for your ass?”