004. His Vulnerable Side

Sierra's POV

I heard the commotion inside but stayed back, my heart pounding. Moments later, the door swung open, and Jordan stepped out, his hair disheveled, his knuckles bloodied. He looked like he was barely holding himself together. What must have gone wrong?

"Let’s go." His voice was clipped, giving me no room to ask the questions. I followed without a word, feeling the tension radiating from him as we moved through the building. The workers averted their eyes, sensing the cold in his behavior.

The journey back home was as silent as the one we had while we were going, but this time, he was so angry I could see and feel it. He kept making calls on our way back home, instructing his people and ordering them. I didn’t understand much until he mentioned that he had killed someone and expected them to come for revenge.

My heart dropped to my stomach, he killed someone when he went in there? I thought it was only a harmless business meeting?

Hours later, we arrived back at the mansion. Jordan stepped out, slamming the car door so hard it shook, then stormed inside and I quickly followed.

"I hate it when I give orders, and you ignore them," he spat out, his voice dangerously low. "Because of you, I severed ties with my Chinese investors."

I frowned, bewildered. "What did I do?" My voice shaky, I was living under the same roof with a murderer. That sends chills down my spine.

"How many times do I have to remind you that I am a Mafia boss?" he snapped. "People will look for anything they can use against me. And today, one of those men made an indecent comment about you. I had to kill him."

I thought about his words over and over again before asking, “How is that my fault?” I was completely confused. He stared at me like I didn’t know what I just asked but I did,

“You were the one who have not touched me ever since we got married. You act like I am some kid that is not experienced enough, you want to teach me everything and sometimes, I think I irritate you so why do you care if someone spoke trash about me? Someone made indecent comments about me? They were mere comments, you? You left me at the altar!”

Now, my eyes were red, why does he care? He doesn’t!

He continued to stare at me with an expression that looked like unbelief. He opened his mouth wanting to speak but he didn’t, with my chest puffed up, I waited for him to say something but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry…” I found myself whispering after minutes of silent stare,

"No, you're not." He stood abruptly, heading for the door. His words hung in the air, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts. Why was he defending me to the point of killing someone if he doesn’t like me? was this his way of proving that he loved me? by killing someone?

He left me at the altar, he left me on our first night and its been four nights now but we have not still consummated our marriage yet he was killing people that spoke dirty about me? why?

This man named Jordan Pierce wasn’t only a monster as people say it, he was also mentally unstable. He is confused and unreasonable!

I clicked my tongue regretting why I even told him that I was sorry in the first place. I just couldn’t ignore the fatigue I saw. I sighed and slumped on the couch in exhaustion. What a day

Later, I went in search of him and found him on the balcony, blowing smoke into the night. His silhouette was a hard line against the city lights, a figure in the shadows of the night. I didn’t want this coldness between us, so I stepped forward.

“Not now, Sierra,” he said sharply without looking back.

"You can’t just push me away every time you're angry,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. “I may not understand your world, but you don’t get to keep me in the dark."

He turned, his gaze sharp, "Do you know why I married you?" His voice softened, the hard edges receding for just a moment.

“My wife… The guilt over her death is something I live with every day. I couldn’t handle leaving her for another woman," He looked away, his jaw tight, and for the first time I saw guilt in his eyes. He blames himself for his wife’s death and it was haunting him. But I thought he never really liked her? Why does he look that way when he spoke about her?

“And you, I married you for business, for protection...” My heart shattered to pieces, but he added, "Until they tried to use you against me.”

I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out, I was speechless, my heart melted at his words, I was completely shocked by this revelation. He cared. I moved closer to him, and he didn’t pull back. My hand brushed his arm, and he tensed, eyes searching mine.

“Thank you,” My words came out in a grasp before I cleared my throat and said it again, “Thank you for standing up for me,” I whispered.

In an instant, he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me against him,

“I care, Sierra, don’t think I don’t. Yes, I do have responsibilities as the mafia Don but I have chosen you as a wife even before I came to your father’s house and as my wife, I am obligated to protect you”

His hot breathe slap my face as he revealed this to me, his lips so close to mine that I wanted to capture them with mine but he did first. The kiss was slow and sweet until it became raw, a blend of anger and passion. He lifted me, his hands firm against my back, carrying me to the bedroom.

Once inside, he lowered me to the bed, his eyes searching mine as he hesitated, a hint of uncertainty showing across his face. I reached up, cradling his face between my hands.

“Don’t overthink it, Jordan,” I murmured. “I’m yours.”

That was all he needed. He kissed me deeply, his hands exploring with reverence and heat. Every touch, every caress felt charged, igniting a fire within me. His lips moved to my neck, his breath hot against my skin, and I gasped, pulling him closer.

I helped him undid his clothes, my hands trembling slightly as I unhooked his belt. When his pants fell, I looked up to his huge member, so huge that I gasped at the sight of it. A shiver of anticipation running through me as I took him in. He was everything I’d imagined and more—powerful, commanding, yet tender in the way he held me.

He lowered me back onto the bed, his body pressing into mine as he thrusted slowly, gently at first. I gasped, my body adjusting to the feel of him, a mix of pleasure and pain that blurred together. He paused, his gaze meeting mine, searching to see if I was okay, and I nodded, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, pulling him deeper.

The rhythm of his movements grew steady, each thrust sending a wave of heat and pleasure through me. He filled every part of me, his touch both fierce and worshipful, like he was pouring his unspoken words into every kiss, every caress. My breath came in short gasps, my fingers digging into his back as I clung to him, surrendering to the sensations.

Time seemed to blur, and all I felt was him—his warmth, his strength, the softness hidden beneath the hardened exterior. His name fell from my lips as he moved faster, bringing me to a crescendo that left me breathless. And as he reached his own climax, he buried his face in my neck, a rough sound escaping his throat as he shuddered against me.

We lay tangled together, the quiet settling over us like a blanket. His arm was still around me, his breathing steady, grounding. I rested my head on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart—a steady rhythm that somehow felt like home.

As I began to drift off, I thought I heard him say, “I love you, Sierra.”