The Brother I Was Never Supposed to Want

Chapter 39

Nathan did not send a reply to Lorenzo Rossi.

He sent a message the only way men like them understood.

By noon the following day, two of Rossi’s mid-level lieutenants had been pulled off the street in broad daylight. Their cars were left empty and idling in separate boroughs. Their phones, wallets, and weapons were returned to Rossi’s preferred meeting place in a single sealed envelope, along with a single printed line:

‘You touched what is mine. The docks are no longer part of this conversation.’

No signature. None was needed.

Ava learned about it when she found Nathan in the study of the safe house, sleeves rolled up, reviewing maps with Marco. The air in the room felt heavier than usual.

“What did you do?” she asked quietly.

Nathan looked up. For a moment the cold strategist softened at the sight of her. Then the mask settled back into place.

“I answered him.”

“With people disappearing?”

“With a warning.” He stood and crossed to her, hands settling on her waist. “Rossi believes leverage works both ways. He needed to understand that it doesn’t. Not when it comes to you.”

Ava searched his face. “And if he escalates?”

“Then I escalate further.” Nathan’s thumb brushed her hip. “I told you I would burn the city if I had to. I meant it.”

She wanted to argue. Part of her still recoiled from the casual way he spoke of violence. Another part, the part that had sat in that locked room listening to Lorenzo calmly discuss her value as leverage, understood exactly why Nathan operated this way.

She rested her forehead against his chest. “Just… come back to me in one piece.”

“Always.”

-----

Richard Walker did not take the news of Nathan’s retaliation well.

He arrived at the safe house that afternoon uninvited, Victoria trailing behind him with a tight expression. Alex had been taken to another secured location for the day, away from the growing tension.

Richard wasted no time.

“You’re declaring open war over a woman,” he said, standing in the center of the living room like he still owned every decision Nathan made. “Do you have any idea what this will cost the legitimate side of the business? Investors are already nervous. The board is calling emergency sessions. Ethan is the only one keeping them from walking.”

Nathan’s voice remained level. “Ethan is keeping them calm because he smells opportunity. Don’t confuse self-interest with loyalty.”

“You’re destabilizing everything we built.”

“Everything I built,” Nathan corrected quietly. “You handed me problems and expected me to clean them up quietly. I did. For years. This time the problem put his hands on Ava. That changes the terms.”

Richard’s gaze flicked to Ava, who stood near the window, silent but present. “You should never have brought her into this world.”

Ava spoke before Nathan could. “I walked into it myself. And I’m still here.”

Richard studied her for a long moment, then looked back at his eldest son. “You’re going to lose more than territory if you continue down this path.”

Nathan stepped closer to his father, voice dropping into something colder. “Then I’ll decide what I’m willing to lose. Not you.”

The confrontation ended without resolution. Richard left with a final warning that the board would not support an open conflict. Victoria lingered long enough to squeeze Ava’s hand and murmur, “He’s afraid. That doesn’t make him right.”

-----

That night, Lorenzo Rossi made his next move.

It was quieter than expected.

A package arrived at one of Nathan’s legitimate offices. Inside was a single photograph: Ava from the gala, smiling, champagne glass in hand. On the back, written in the same precise handwriting as the earlier note:

‘Seventy-two hours was generous. You have twenty-four.’

‘After that, I stop being polite.’

Nathan stared at the photo for a long time. Then he made three calls.

By midnight, two more of Rossi’s operations had been disrupted, one shipment delayed indefinitely, one key intermediary suddenly unavailable. Nothing public. Nothing that could be easily traced. But the message was clear.

Ava found him on the balcony after the last call.

Rain fell in a fine, cold mist that beaded on the iron railing and darkened the shoulders of his black shirt. The air smelled of wet earth and distant city exhaust, sharp and clean after hours of tension indoors. Beyond the trees, the sky hung low and bruised, the kind of night that swallowed sound and left only the steady hiss of rain against leaves.

Nathan stood with his hands braced on the railing, head slightly bowed, the muscles in his forearms standing out under damp fabric. A single outdoor light threw a weak gold circle across the wet stone at his feet. Everything beyond it dissolved into gray.

“You’re not going to stop,” she said.

“No.”

She stepped out to join him. The rain immediately kissed her bare arms and the exposed skin at her collarbone, cool enough to raise goosebumps. She moved to stand beside him, close enough that their sleeves brushed. The metal railing was slick and cold under her fingers.

“I’m scared, Nathan. Not of him. Of what this is turning you into. Of what it’s turning us into.”

He turned to her fully. Rain clung to his dark hair in fine droplets that caught the light when he moved. His eyes looked tired and fierce all at once, the whites slightly reddened from lack of sleep, the irises almost black in the dimness. A faint sheen of moisture traced the sharp line of his jaw.

“This is what I am,” he said quietly. His voice was low, roughened by exhaustion and something darker. “I tried to keep it away from you for as long as I could. Rossi forced the issue. I won’t pretend to be someone softer just to make this easier to accept.”

Ava reached up and touched his face. His skin was cool from the rain, the stubble along his jaw rough against her palm. She could smell the faint trace of his cologne beneath the wet night air, something clean and expensive that still clung despite the hours of tension.

“I’m not asking you to be softer,” she said. “I’m asking you not to disappear into it completely.”

Something in his expression cracked. He pulled her against him hard, one hand sliding into her damp hair, the other locking around her waist. The kiss was deep and urgent, tasting of rain and the residual bitterness of coffee he’d been drinking all evening. His mouth was warm where everything else was cold. Water slid down their faces and soaked into the fabric between them as he pressed her closer, like he needed the contact to stay tethered to something real.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing harder, he rested his forehead against hers. Their shared breath fogged faintly in the small space between their mouths. Rain continued to fall around them in a soft, relentless curtain, muffling the rest of the world.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, voice barely above the sound of the rain. “Even when it gets uglier.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

-----

They made love that night with a different kind of intensity, slower, deeper, almost desperate. Nathan kept his eyes on hers the entire time, as if memorizing her, as if reminding himself what he was fighting for. Ava clung to him, matching every thrust, whispering his name like a promise and a prayer.

Afterward, she slept curled against his chest.

Nathan remained awake, staring at the ceiling, already planning the next move.

Across the city, Lorenzo Rossi received word of the latest disruptions and smiled to himself in the dark.

The game was no longer about docks or warehouses.

It had become personal.

And personal wars, he knew, were the ones that left the deepest scars.