Page 48 of Jetmir

The silence stretched before I couldn’t take it anymore. “Do you like the dog?”

“So it was you,” she breathed.

“Yes.”

“I suspected as much,” she murmured over the phone.

“I hope he makes you happy.” The way I once did, but I kept those words unspoken.

“He does. I love Dozer. It’s what I always wanted.”

“I know. I remember everything, Anya.”

She took several breaths before scoffing. “You and I… Jetmir, we were a mistake. You know that as well as I do.”

I choked on my fury.

“We were many things, Anya, but never a mistake,” I rasped. “This was my last attempt. Remember I tried to do it the right way and be your light. Instead, you let me be your nightmare.” Someone called her name and she looked over her shoulder. “Enjoy your party, my angel.”

Because after tonight, you’re mine.

Then I hung up.

For a long time, I remained standing at the window, binoculars forgotten in my hands, watching as she stayed by the railing, looking at the sky and rubbing at her neck, almost as if she could feel my gaze on her.

Then she went back to her party and I got to work.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SAILOR

Demons really had a way of finding their way back into your life.

It’d been more than two decades since I was kidnapped and tortured; I’d moved on. Honestly, a part of me thought I’d forgotten everything that had happened, but it took one look at Jetmir Thorne Volkov-Tijuana for the memories to rear their ugly heads.

It was humbling to confirm that those memories would never leave, and those scars—visible and invisible—were here to stay.

So many years had gone by, but the torture inflicted upon me by none other than Santiago Tijuana splashed through my mind and the feeling of helplessness and shame took me right back to that dark place on his Caribbean island from hell.

I paced the length of the bedroom suite, my nerves on the edge and my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Anya had gone out to a bar with Francesca and Gianna, while most of our friends and family stayed back. Most had retired for the night, and Raphael had an urgent meeting and had gone with Luciano and Nico.

But at this moment, all I needed and wanted was for him to be here.

Thankfully, Gabriel stayed behind.

He sat in the armchair, his gaze unfocused, and although he couldn’t see me, he had enough insight to know that I was on edge.

“If you don’t share what’s bothering you, I’m going to start pacing too and you’ll have to rearrange the furniture so I’m not tripping around,” he commented dryly.

“Maybe we should have gone clubbing with the girls?”

He chuckled dryly. “Are you mad? They’d kick us out or, even worse, think of us as some creeps. We’re too old for that place.”

“I just can’t shake off this feeling,” I admitted, though I knew I was being unfair because he couldn’t know the extent of it. He’d been so young then, barely ten years old, and he had no business being burdened with my demons. Yes, he was a grown man now, but as a mother, I was still unwilling to share that part with him.

Raphael, my husband, was the one I needed.

“I shouldn’t have let her go.”