Page 92 of Jetmir

He stared at me for a long moment before he gritted a single word. “Maybe.”

“You never even asked her, did you?” I let out a sardonic breath. “I don’t know where they are, Raphael, and I wouldn’t help you if I did. But I’ll tell you this…” I held his gaze. “Hurt my son and you’ll feel my wrath.”

Raphael held my gaze. “Ditto.”

Jetmir would never hurt Anya. He loved her more than was healthy, and for the past three years, I hurt right alongside him. I wanted him to be happy and I knew that only his wife would bring him peace, love and happiness.

“Let the children work it out themselves. They might be our babies, but they’re adults.”

Raphael didn’t reply, although judging by his expression, his mind wasn’t swayed at all.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

JETMIR

The knock—three hard bangs against the door—came just before noon. There was only one person who knocked that way so I didn’t even look up from the file on my desk as I barked, “Come in.”

The door opened and my twin stepped inside.

“This is fucking bullshit, Jet,” she hissed. I looked up to find her carrying two overstuffed grocery bags in one hand, and a stack of books against her chest with the other. “I’m not your shopping assistant.” She kicked the door shut behind her. “And, yeah… You’re fucking welcome.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose at her theatrics. “Thank you, but you should have taken those bags to the kitchen.”

She dropped the grocery bags beside the chair with force. “And run into your wife! No, thank you.”

I leaned back in my chair, smiling. “My badass twin sister is scared of my wife?”

She ignored my comment and glared at me. “I hate grocery shopping.”

“You hate most things.” I looked at the books tucked beneath her arm. “You got all the titles I asked for.”

She rolled my eyes. “Yes, I did. Your wife has some very questionable tastes when it comes to literature.”

“I disagree.”

“That’s your right, but trust me… That angel of yours is not an angel at all. I was embarrassed to stand in the line at Barnes & Noble holding these books.”

I held out my hand and she surrendered the stack. “You could have told me you didn’t want to get them.”

“I’m hoping it earns you some extra points.”

“I doubt it,” I muttered. “But at least it’ll make her happy.”

“Why does she need these anyhow?” Elira questioned. “Isn’t her Kindle here?”

“She wanted the special editions.”

“I’ll never understand her.” She shook her head. “She’s lucky you love her.”

“She might disagree with you on that.”

“Well, if you want my opinion, Jet⁠—”

“I don’t.”

She gave it to me anyhow. “I think she loves you too.”

“You’ve been shopping and carrying groceries.” I put the books on the corner of my desk. I would leave them in the library when she was asleep. “You’re hallucinating.”