Page 25 of Jetmir

Three years, four months, twenty-three days, and somewhere in that gray Lisbon rain I’d already stopped being a man who knew how to let go of things.

I stared into my glass, the mahogany liquid in stark contrast to the yellow liquid of Anya’s choice.

Since she’d left me, I hadn’t been able to stomach tequila. Not that it was my drink of choice, but when she drank it, she insisted I did too in order to keep her company. So I did.

However, since she’d been gone, I couldn’t even bear to see it.

“Jet, are you okay?” My sister’s voice pulled me from my thoughts and I looked up.

“Never better,” I murmured as I lifted the glass toward her as though making a toast. “My wife’s birthday is coming up, and I’ll be sure to make it one she never forgets.”

She shook her head, then let out a heavy sigh. “I’m going to regret this, but please let me help you so at least you’re not killed before you get to kiss your woman again, you schmuck.”

I smiled. Through thick and thin, I could always count on my twin.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ANYA

“You look beautiful,” Amara gushed. “And thank you so much for agreeing to attend my family’s event.”

“Sure thing,” I retorted, offering my sister-in-law a feeble smile while Dozer pranced around the room like he owned it. “Everyone wants this tension between our families to end.”

Of course, I knew this day would come. A reunion between us, the Santoses, and the Volkov and DiLustro families was long overdue, considering Gabriel, my brother-slash-uncle, was married to a woman with ties to them.

Sometimes I wished Gabriel had fallen for someone else. Anyone but a woman with ties to my lying, conniving, and so fucking handsome husband. But as my friends would say… Wish in one hand and shit in another, see which hand fills up faster.

I flicked a glance in the mirror and decided that, if nothing else, I looked good. Great, in fact.

The sleeveless red gown clung in all the right places, the fabric skimming my curves before falling in a clean, fluid line to gather at my ankles. It was more daring than anything I usually wore to family gatherings. A plunging neckline exposed a deliberate stretch of skin, and for once I didn’t feel the urge to tug it higher or cover myself with my hair.

It was the kind of dress that made a statement, and I’d chosen it for that exact reason.

My blonde hair was swept into an elegant bun, every strand pinned carefully so my neck and shoulders were left bare. The simplicity of it made the whole look more glamorous. Red sandals matched the dress while the small diamond studs at my ears caught the light with every movement.

On the surface, I looked like someone who had moved on. Someone unbothered. It was a good disguise. Better than I probably deserved.

My brother appeared in the doorway, his cane tapping softly against the marble floor of the mansion as he navigated by memory. He could still perceive shapes—light and dark, movement and blur—but not enough to move through the world with certainty. Not anymore.

The sight of him was enough to drain whatever confidence I’d managed to stitch together in front of the mirror. I unraveled, thread by thread, until all that remained was a tight, suffocating guilt that settled in my chest.

Gabriel paused there, framed by the doorway.

“How is my favorite sister?” he greeted, flanked by his bodyguard-slash-friend Luis Orlando.

Their presence caused Dozer to bark, the little fellow arched his back like a cat and started hissing. Jesus Christ, I loved my puppy but he had some really weird habits.

“Hush, Dozer.”

“I see your annoying dog is refusing to leave your side,” Gabriel retorted wryly.

“Is that really a dog?” Luis deadpanned. “It’s more like a cat stuck in some weird body.”

“He acts like a cat. I assumed Dozer would be like our Bruno, but apparently I was incorrect.”

“Indeed you were,” Luis confirmed. “This creature looks like a carpet. What odd coloring for a French bulldog.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I shot them both a glare. Luis wasn’t wrong about Dozer’s coloring. It was very unique. He was gray with flecks of darker grays and light brown splattered all over him, and had two different-colored eyes. In my opinion, it only made him extra special. “By the way, that was a sarcastic laugh,” I added.