Page 91 of Jetmir

“I’m warning you.”

“No.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “You’re trying to frighten me.”

His expression hardened. “You should be frightened. Your son even more so.”

I folded my arms. “Raphael, you need to understand something about me.”

“I understand enough.”

“No. You understand that I’m stubborn. That I’m dangerous. That I’m difficult to control.” I swallowed, feeling the old memories stir beneath my skin, but I promptly shut them down. “Your wife survived torture by Santiago Tijuana for less than a week. I survived torture by my first husband for much, much longer.” He said nothing, but something shifted in his expression. “And before him, I survived my mother. So don’t threaten me like you’re the first person who has ever tried to make me afraid.”

Raphael's eyes narrowed.

“You think surviving makes you untouchable?”

“No, but it makes me dangerous. Don’t ever fucking threaten my son.”

“Your son is dead. He kidnapped my daughter."

Something cold moved through me, but I kept it at bay. “My son reunited with his wife. This is your last warning, Santos. Don’t. Fucking. Threaten. Jetmir.”

His expression darkened. “Where is he?”

I pointed toward the door.

“You might as well leave, because even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.” I suspected his location, but I would rather lie than share it. “So you can take your threats and shove them somewhere where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“You’re very brave.”

“No. I’m tired.” I looked away for a moment, breathing through the ache in my chest. “I’m tired of men like you, and I’m sure that your wife is too.”

“Leave my wife out of this.”

I almost smiled. Sailor was Raphael’s weakness.

“Sailor and I have more in common than you think.”

He looked at me like I had lost my mind.

“We both survived things. We survived them in different ways. But we both learned how to live inside circumstances we didn’t choose.”

His mouth tightened.

“Don’t pretend you know what my wife thinks.”

“I don’t.” I softened despite myself. “But I think she would understand.”

“Understand what?”

“That sometimes survival looks ugly.” I looked down at my hands. “My mother started this mess, and even my own children paid for it. Anya had the luxury of being protected from the moment she was born. My children didn’t.”

Raphael’s expression changed slightly. “I can’t do anything about it. Anya is my concern.”

“And Jetmir is mine. He loves your daughter.”

“She doesn’t love him back.”

I met his eyes. “Did she tell you that?”