Filed to story: Sold to The Possessive Mafia Boss Book (Xavier & Jane) Free Online >>
The casual way he speaks of Xavier’s death, as if it’s a mere transaction, ignites a fury within me. “We’re talking hundreds of millions, maybe billions. We’re going to be rich, my girl. Aren’t you proud of your old man for once?”
“Garibaldi will kill you,” I spit out, the words fueled by a mix of fear and defiance. My father’s only response is a laugh, a sound that chills me to the bone. “Once Xavier’s dead, you really think he’d split the profits with you?”
“Why not?” he says with a smirk. “You see, I know Xavier better than you do. I knew he was obsessed with you, God knows why, you’re nothing special. He only went to save Emma to please you. That gave us the chance we needed to get hold of you and him.”
He sniggers. “Plus, I know you so well. I knew you’d come for her, so stupid you’d walk straight into a trap. Always were a dumb fuck.”
“Dad, you need to make this right. Help us out of here, help my husband. It’s your only chance to survive this.”
“Yeah, right. Like I’d listen to you. Settle in, get comfortable. We’ll come get you once your beloved husband is dead. He’s fifteen year’s older than you, Jane. He’s manipulated you into thinking he loves you. He was using you. Wake up, see the real world. It’s a piece of shit and a man’s got to take what he can get.”
“He loves me. He’ll save me and you’ll die unless you help.”
“Keep telling yourself that. I’ll let you see his body when it’s done. Your old man knows best, Jane. Always has.” A sad smile forms on his lips. “You’re a lot like your mother. She was a stubborn bitch too.”
“Don’t talk about my mother like that. Don’t you dare.”
He turns on his heel, laughing as he walks out, slamming the door shut behind him. It clicks locked a moment later.
The door’s echo fades, leaving us enveloped in a more profound silence. The darkness seems to thicken around us, tangible and suffocating. Yet, as the initial shock of my father’s betrayal dissipates, a flicker of resolve ignites within me. I check my pocket. “It’s time,” I say out loud.
“For what?” Emma asks.
“I wanted to give him a chance but he’s lost. Truly lost.”
“What are you talking about?”
I lean toward her ear to whisper as quietly as I can. “Xavier gave me a tracker. He’ll be able to see where we are.”
She nods. “Will the signal work from a basement?”
Doubt begins to gnaw at me. What if she’s right? What if my father’s right? What if Xavier doesn’t come? The thought is a cold hand around my heart.
But no, I can’t afford such thoughts. He’s shown me time and again his strength, his dedication.
“He will come,” I assert, my voice stronger than I feel, a declaration meant as much for Emma’s reassurance as my own. I reach into my pocket and activate the tracker.
Xavier’s POV
I’m two minutes out when the tracker springs to life. My eyes flick to my cellphone. Jane’s signal blinks back at me, miles from where Garibaldi demands I be. Decision time.
My gut twists, torn between vengeance and the visceral need to protect her.
Tony catches my hesitation, reading the storm behind my eyes. “Boss?” he probes, voice steady.
“Stop the car,” I say, the words tasting of lead. “I’ve got Jane’s location. Five miles out, opposite direction.”
Tony’s silence is contemplative, a stark contrast to the urgency pulsating through my veins. “If you don’t go after Garibaldi, you’ll never get him. He’ll run.”
He leans forward. “What does your gut tell you? Revenge or the girl?”
My gut is a riot of instinct and emotion, a tumultuous sea with Jane as its north star. “My gut says Jane. It’s always Jane,” I confess, the admission a quiet revelation of my shifting priorities.
“Then that’s where you need to be,” Tony states, unequivocal. “I’ll take half the team to Garibaldi. We keep him busy, buy you time.”
A year ago, I would have balked at such a plan, insisted on steering the ship. But love, Jane’s love, has taught me the value of trust, of shared burdens. “You think it’s a trap?” I probe, seeking his counsel in a way I once would have eschewed.
“It could be. But you’re not going in alone,” Tony replies, his loyalty a beacon. “Kill them all.”
The resolve in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders, echoes the resolve in my heart. “Half with him, half with me,” I command, the decision made. My men nod, a unified front ready to face whatever darkness lies ahead.
As I peel away from the convoy, heading towards Jane, towards the beacon of her tracker, the weight of leadership feels different. It’s no longer a burden borne alone but a shared load, lightened by the trust and camaraderie of those I call my own.
Jane’s safety over vengeance, her life over the satisfaction of retribution—it’s a choice that once would have torn me in two. Now, it’s as clear as the night sky above. Love, in its infinite complexity, has honed my instincts, tempered my rage with reason.
“I’m coming, Jane,” I whisper to the empty car, a promise on the wind. My love for her, a compass guiding me home.
I stop fifty feet from the tracker’s location. It’s a brownstone with two armed men at the top of the stoup. I move swiftly until I’m twenty feet away, aiming my gun at them. I pause, hold my breath, and fire twice in quick succession.
They both drop and I’m already climbing the stoup, shoving open the door.
The moment my boots connect with the concrete inside, the air shifts from stale silence to charged anticipation. My squad fans out behind me, a silent, deadly shadow that mirrors my every move.
The first guard rounds the corner, weapon raised, a split second too slow. My response is immediate, a bullet from my gun finds its home between his eyes before he can squeeze the trigger. His body hits the ground with a thud.
I don’t pause, moving deeper into the building. The corridor splits in front of me. I take the right with three men.