JETMIR
CHAPTER THREE
Sitting in the hospital, I stared at the box of cigarettes that sat on the bedside table while battling an uneasy feeling that settled in the pit of my stomach.
Anya and her definitely not a nut-free baklava almost killed me, but I wouldn’t hold that against her. I guess I deserved it. After all, the explosion that was a result of my dealings with the Triad almost killed all of us, so one could argue that I had this coming.
Those fucking Triads.
The fact they set it up where Anya was staying meant they had to be watching my movements and I was too wrapped up into my wife to have noticed it.
Ever since Enzo Marchetti, the head of the Marchetti Italian mafia, eliminated Nicki and Atticus Popov, dealing with the Triad had been challenging.
According to the rumors, their leader seemed to develop a second personality.
In retrospect, I shouldn’t have done business with them.
Of course, the deal they offered was good. They never intended to pay.
I reached for my cigarette and slowly lit it up, then inhaled deeply before watching it cloud the air. I didn’t give a shit it was a non-smoking hospital. I needed to release some of my stress or there might be another explosion coming and this one would wreak even worse havoc.
My wife left me. She fucking left me.
I took another deep inhale, letting the nicotine fill my lungs and then exhaled.
There was a small part of me that hoped that Anya would come back after she visited Gabriel. She would come back, apologize for almost killing me, and we’d continue our lives together.
Yes, her family was pissed off, but we’d handle them.
I loved her, and we’d get through this together. The past several weeks had been one of the best of my life. I’d finally found someone who eased my demons and there would be no way I’d give up on that.
Just as I pulled the IV out of my arm, the door to the hospital room opened. My sister Elira and Kian—the man who raised me until my mother came into picture—came in.
Elira looked exasperated; Kian looked pissed.
“What the fuck are you doing smoking in the hospital,” Kian growled.
“You should leave that thing in your arm,” Elira scolded. “Fuck the cigarette.”
I discarded the tube, ignoring both of them. I swung my feet over the hospital bed, ignoring Kian who came to stand in front of me. We stood facing each other for a beat before he broke the silence.
“What the actual fuck, Jetmir?”
“What?” My voice was deadly calm. “This doesn’t concern you. It’s between my wife and me.”
“The wife that tried to kill you,” he spat. “I assured Raphael Santos that Anya would be safe in Albania. And then you saunter in, frolicking, flirting, and seducing her. Marrying her!”
“What the fuck is frolicking?”
Elira tried to explain. “Oh, you don’t frolic, brother. Trust me. That word means—”
“Fuck that word and its meaning right now,” Kian shouted. “The point is that you fucked up big-time, Jetmir. And you…” He glared at Elira. “You were in on it.”
Elira shrugged. “He’s my brother. What do you expect?”
“I expect for you to stop causing fucking havoc.”
Jesus Christ. The fact that Kian was using so many f-bombs wasn’t a good sign, but I couldn’t help him nor his vocabulary. I had a wife to find and get back.
I sidestepped him to leave when Elira stopped me. “Brother, your hospital gown is showing your ass. Maybe get dressed.” She extended her hand with a backup. “Your suave three-piece-suit is in there. You’ll need more than your bare ass to seduce her again.”
Damn, was my twin on my side or not? I couldn’t quite tell.
I snatched the backup from her and went around the privacy curtain.
“You might as well stay in the hospital gown,” Kian deadpanned. I ignored him, and started to get dressed. “Anya is under her family’s protection.”
I pulled on the pants. “Anya is my wife and her protection is my concern, not her family’s.”
He scoffed. “You’re either delusional, or you don’t know your wife at all.”
“Say what you will, Kian, but I’m going after her.”
“She’s gone, Jetmir,” Kian said slowly. “She left you.”
“She only tried to poison me to see Gabriel,” I retorted wryly. “Once I find her, we’ll be back to normal.”
“Brother, she knows your allergy is deadly to you,” Elira said, her tone cautious.
I finished getting dressed, and stuffed the tie back into the bag.
My hands shook too bad to put it on right now, and I wouldn’t be asking either one of my visitors to help me put it on.
“I don’t think her intent is to go back to normal. ”
“Do you know where she is?” I barked, ignoring their advice as I headed for the door with the phone in my hand.
“She flew back to the States.”
I gripped the phone so tight it cracked under the pressure.
“Brother?”
“Did she go back to her home or back to the university?”
Elira opened to answer when Kian cut in. “It doesn’t matter, Jetmir. She’s out of your reach. Raphael already started pulling strings. He wants to bury you six feet under and the only thing saving you right now is your last name.”
“Fuck saving me,” I shouted. “If you’re not going to help me get her back, get lost.”
Kian’s dark gaze locked on me, and for several heartbeats, tense silence stretched. Nobody talked to him like that. Fucking ever. I knew I was on slippery ground, but at this moment, I didn’t care because my wife was gone.
“I’m going to let you recover, then we’ll continue this conversation,” Kian finally said. He turned to my sister and continued, “Make sure he doesn’t do something stupid again, or I’ll have both of your heads.”
With that he disappeared. I stood frozen in my spot. Not because Kian threatened me, but because I was slowly spiraling.
My wife left me. The reason for my breathing and living left me.
My wife. My life. My everything.
I pushed my hands into my hair and gripped the strands like my sanity depended on it. My fingers tangled deeper, tugging hard enough to sting my scalp, but the sharp pain was nothing compared to the pain I felt in my chest.
Elira came up to me and hugged me. “We’ll get her back.”
“She left and now her family will never let her come back to me.”
“Once Anya gets her mind set on something, I don’t think anyone can keep her from it,” she said gently.
That made me feel even worse, because I knew it to be the truth. Anya was soft, but oh so stubborn too. And she left me.
She fucking left me.
I straightened and locked eyes with my twin. “Help me get her back, Elira.”
She was mine and I would get her back.
Even if it killed me.