Page 41 of Jetmir

“Oh, is that right?” I teased. “You think you’re terrifying?”

He puffed out his chest, snorted indignantly, and stomped one paw against the floor with all the dignity a puppy could muster.

That only made us laugh harder.

I crouched and scooped him into my arms. He settled against me immediately with a contented grunt, his body wonderfully warm and his coat still carrying the clean scent of shampoo.

His wrinkled face nestled against my neck as he let out one of those funny grumbles that sounded more like they belonged to a tiny pig than a dog. His whiskers tickled my skin, and his warm breath puffed softly against my jaw.

I smiled, rubbing slow circles behind his velvet-soft ears.

“It sounds like he’s wishing you a happy birthday too,” Mama murmured softly.

“It sure seems like it,” Papa agreed. “I have a feeling that dog will be your shadow.”

Dozer responded with an enthusiastic snort before planting an unapologetically slobbery lick on my chin.

“Ew.” I laughed, scrunching my nose but hugging him even tighter. “Aww, Dozer. You’re the best birthday present ever.”

He answered with another satisfied grunt, settling deeper into my arms as though he’d always belonged there—somehow, it felt like he had.

“You haven’t seen our present yet,” Mama scolded teasingly.

Across the table, Papa studied the puppy with the same expression he’d worn since the delivery—amused, curious, faintly suspicious.

“I still don’t like that nobody knows where he came from,” Papa remarked. “He could be used as a weapon.”

I rolled my eyes at the most ridiculous comment. Besides, I knew where he came from. I just kept that to myself, probably out of guilt and fear.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mama argued as she stirred her coffee. “It’s Anya’s dog now.”

“Why are you suspicious of something this adorable, Papa?” I questioned vaguely. “The idea of a puppy being used as a weapon is ludicrous and you know it.”

“He’s just worried, that’s all,” she said, and instantly guilt filled my chest. “Besides, I don’t think it will be possible to separate that dog from you. He definitely chose you.”

I looked down at Dozer, who had rolled onto his back across my lap, paws in the air, dead to the world. “I think we chose each other.”

My papa leaned back in his chair with a slow exhale, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“So,” he said, his tone noticeably lighter. “What are your plans tonight?”

I shrugged casually. “Francesca and Gianna want to take me out.”

Mama didn’t look surprised in the slightest, confirming she’d spoken to their parents. Nothing happened without the mothers knowing first.

Papa glanced between us, catching on.

“You already knew.”

She offered him a small, innocent smile over the rim of her cup. “Of course I did. And not to worry, they’ll have bodyguards when they go out.”

He grunted under his breath, more resigned than annoyed. “When those youngsters get together, trouble follows. Bodyguards aren’t enough.”

“Not true,” I protested, although he was absolutely right.

“When are they arriving?” he asked, turning back to me.

“Their plane lands in about four hours,” Mama answered before I could. “The Vitales and the Morrellis are coming too, so no work today, Raphael.”