Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Fuck.
He had a problem.
Chapter 21
The trouble with having bodyguards was that eventually people were bound to notice them.
Partly it was because his bodyguards had stopped trying to be very subtle now that Jordan knew about their presence. Partly it was because there were situations that made his bodyguards’ presence very obvious. Like the celebration of his mother’s birthday on a yacht his parents had hired just for that occasion.
“But why do you have bodyguards, dear?” his mother said, allowing Jordan to kiss her on a powdered cheek.
“Ferrara forced them on me,” Jordan said, grimacing. “Work related stuff, nothing serious.” He walked away quickly before his mother could question him further.
Fuck, he hated lying to his mother, but it wasn’t like he could tell her the truth. He wasn’t even sure what that truth was. Mom, the bodyguards have been hired for me by an Italian mafia boss, who totally isn’t my anything. Not a friend, not a lover, and definitely not a boyfriend. No one. I just jerk off with his penis-shaped dildo in my ass. Nothing to see here!
Yeah, that would go well.
“Jord!”
He barely managed to turn at the sound of the familiar voice before his ex-wife crashed into him, hugging him hard with her slim arms.
Hesitantly, Jordan returned the hug.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Bella said, pulling back and grinning.
She looked radiant and it took him a moment to realize what could be the reason: there was a noticeable bump in her belly.
Jordan’s throat closed up. “You’re pregnant?” he heard himself say.
Bella’s grin faltered, becoming more hesitant. “Yes. Kurt and I are expecting a baby.”
“Congratulations,” he said, putting on his best smile. “I’m happy for you, Bel.” He kissed her on the cheek and smiled wider. “Let’s hope your kid will take after you and not Kurt. An innocent baby shouldn’t be saddled with his looks.”
She laughed. “You’re awful! Kurt is good-looking! Not all of us have model-like looks like you!”
Jordan winked at her. “Don’t let him hear you say that. You know how jealous he gets around me.” He pretended to see someone behind her back. “I need to talk to someone, I have to go. See you around, Bel.” He strode away, hoping he didn’t look like he was fleeing.
Pushing through the crowd of guests, half of whom were already drunk, he grabbed a bottle of vodka and found a quiet spot on the lower deck. He sat down in the darkest corner and stared at the water.
The sounds of laughter and cheerful conversations on the upper deck only made him feel more alone. Achingly lonely.
Opening the bottle, he brought it to his lips and took a big gulp. The vodka burned his throat, but it didn’t quite erase the lump in it. He’d never felt more pathetic in his life.
He could be even more pathetic.
Pulling his phone out, Jordan found the right number—the number that he hadn’t saved in his contacts—and pressed Call.
He didn’t even know if the call would go through. He half-thought Damiano used a burner phone to call him, considering how paranoid he was. Even if it was Damiano’s real phone, there was a high chance he wouldn’t pick up anyway. He had never said Jordan could call him.
But Damiano answered. “One moment,” he said before saying something in Italian. He clearly wasn’t alone.
Jordan could hear him move, the sounds of doors closing, and then finally, “What’s wrong? Why are you calling me?”
I just wanted to hear your voice sounded lame even in his head, so Jordan didn’t say it.
But then again, Damiano had seen him at his worst and weakest. There was no use putting on the perfect Jordan Gates act around him.
“My ex-wife and her new husband are expecting a baby,” Jordan said.
There was silence on the line.
Jordan could vividly imagine Damiano’s dark brows furrowing as he tried to puzzle it out. God, he missed him so badly his stomach literally ached with it.
“And that upsets you why?” Damiano said, his voice terse. “Are you jealous?”
Jordan took another swig from the bottle, and then another. “No—yes.” He sighed. “I don’t know.” He stared at the city’s lights in the distance. “We found out that I couldn’t have kids three years ago. Our marriage fell apart soon after that.” He chuckled. “You know, it’s funny. I didn’t even think I wanted to have kids all that much until I was told I couldn’t have them and I was shooting blanks. It’s just… It made me feel like less of a man, you know?”
“That’s stupid,” Damiano said derisively. “Procreation is hardly a man’s only function. If your ex-wife couldn’t understand it—”
“No, Bel was amazing,” Jordan said. “Very understanding. She started looking at options, but…” He took another swig from the bottle and set it down, feeling a little dizzy already, his tongue not quite listening to him. It’d been a while since he consumed alcohol.