ANYA
CHAPTER FIVE
Adivorce in the mafia world was practically unheard of. Yet there I was—a twenty-one-year-old, soon-to-be twenty-two, divorcée. It was an annulment, but damn, it felt like a funeral.
Was that normal?
Probably not, but neither was my marriage to a complete stranger or even this French bulldog puppy who was now mine.
I was walking Dozer—my French bulldog puppy—in the early morning hours of Miami. It was my birthday present that showed up too early with a loose bow around his neck and ready to be part of my life.
The bizarre thing was that nobody was willing to fess up.
It wasn’t Papa’s and Mama’s gift. In fact, they’d been ready to turn the poor guy away, but it was Gabriel, my uncle who I considered my brother, who convinced them otherwise.
It made me think maybe he and his wife, Amara, had something to do with it, but they swore up and down they didn’t. Which left only one suspect.
A shuddering breath swished from my lungs.
If it was in fact my ex, I should have turned the puppy away, but I physically couldn’t. It wasn’t the poor little fella’s fault. Right?
A sports car zoomed past me, interrupting the moment of peace, and my puppy glared enough for the both of us. Then another sports car drove by, a red Aston Martin with tinted windows that hid anyone inside, but this one slowed down before it sped back up.
Strange, I thought, it was almost as if the car slowed down for us.
I promptly dismissed the thought.
It had to be a coincidence.
Besides, I wasn’t worried about my safety because my bodyguards were on my tail and I knew they’d be by my side in a blink of an eye if they sensed a threat.
Dozer resumed his snooty little trot, paws tapping against the sidewalk as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. I envied him for that.
The crisp air carried the scent of the ocean along with Florida’s earthy, humid fall breeze. It should have eased this restlessness inside me or at least calmed the battlefield in my mind.
It didn’t.
Instead, I started to think about the divorce-slash-annulment.
I tightened my grip on Dozer’s leash as memories of my ex-husband slipped through the cracks I’d spent the past several years trying to seal tight. No matter how hard I tried, my thoughts always found their way back to him. Back to us and everything that went wrong. God, all the promises. The lies.
Yet, his wrongs somehow faded and all I remembered was the way he’d once looked at me. The way he’d brush his thumb across my cheek. The way he’d kiss me. The way he’d make love to me.
“Damn it, Anya. Don’t think about that shit or that cabron… Bastard,” I whispered to the empty street, still untouched by the sun’s hazy rays.
The papers were filed. The annulment was final.
A bitter laugh escaped me.
If someone had told a nineteen-year-old me that I’d be divorced by twenty-two, I would’ve laughed in their face. Joke’s on me though because who’s laughing now. Not even this little puppy could ease a sting of it all.
My papa claimed it was for the best. After all, Jetmir had deceived me, lied to me, and ultimately, his actions blinded my brother.
Dozer snorted and tugged me toward a patch of grass.
“You’re a very bossy man,” I muttered. His tail wagged proudly. “Probably the only one who won’t disappoint me too. Well, you and my book boyfriends.”
At least the men in my books were predictable and appreciated their heroines. And they sure as fuck didn’t lie to them.
Shit, that was the problem. Lies I could have forgiven. But hurting my brother…? That was a bridge too far even for my cursed ex-husband.
Gabriel had never brought up Albania and the explosion that destroyed his vision. He didn’t blame me, but that didn’t matter. I blamed myself for being so trusting and stupid. I believed Jetmir Thorne Volkov-Tijuana to be some morally gray hero, but it turned out he was just a villain.
The street curved toward a small park, and I followed the path absentmindedly while Dozer investigated every bush he passed.
My thoughts drifted again, replaying memories I should’ve buried long ago.
The small airfield sat in the countryside beyond Connecticut, surrounded by open fields that rippled in the wind. The scent of cut grass and aviation fuel enveloped me, and every gust that brushed against my skin seemed determined to remind me of what I was about to do.
“I must have lost my mind,” I muttered to myself. I hated heights, yet the erotic scene I’d read last month had sprouted an idea I couldn’t shake. I needed to go skydiving and my instructor had to be hot. Easy enough ask, right?
The sight of the plane waiting on the tarmac made my stomach twist. Its propeller spun in a silver blur, filling the air with a deep mechanical growl that vibrated through my chest. Around me, people chatted and laughed, as if jumping out of an airplane was a perfectly normal way to spend a day.
“You okay?”
I turned and lifted my head slightly, my breath catching in my throat. The hottest man I’d ever seen was watching me with interest, holding my gaze captive. He stood a short distance away, yet I felt him as if he were pressed against me, his strong, veiny hand wrapped around my throat and—
Damn it, Anya, get your hormones in check.
Still though, I couldn’t keep my eyes from getting their fill of his broad frame, pausing on the jeans that hugged his long, muscular legs.
“Are you okay?” he asked again, his voice deep and raspy. I looked up at the slight stubble covering his face that gave him a slightly harsher edge, and zeroed in on his mouth. Then I remembered his question and I smiled.
“Yeah. Yeah, totally… Yes, totally okay.” I extended my hand, the slut in me hoping electricity might zap me the moment we touched and he’d jump my bones. “I’m Anya.”
He flashed me a smile, showing off a full set of brilliant whites. “Hello, Anya. I’m Thorne.”
He took my hand into his and a slight shudder rolled down my spine. This! This was what my smutty books spoke of.
“Thorne,” I repeated, tasting his name on my lips.
“Are you jumping today?” he asked casually, the confidence in his posture doing things to me.
“Jumping?” I repeated, images of collapsing into bed with him flashing through my mind. Yes, sir. I’m jumping. Right. The. Hell. Now.
“Yeah, skydiving…?”
Oh.
“Ummm, yes. Maybe. I don’t know. Depends on the instructor.”
He chuckled, and my heart did a little flip. Damn, what I wouldn’t give to yank his head full of dark hair and hold on to it while he… No. Get yourself together, woman!
“Why does it depend on the instructor?” he asked, curiosity lacing his expression.
I shrugged.
“Well, if he’s a creep, I don’t want to be tied to him while jumping to my death.”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“You’re jumping with me, Anya.” I thanked all the gods for this gift, and cursed them at the same time for allowing me to utter such stupidity to this man. “What do you think? Am I a creep?”
“No.” I threw my head back and laughed. “Guess I’m jumping today, Thorne.”
He chuckled. “What if I told you I was a creep?”
I waved my hand, feeling at ease with him. “Nah, you’re not.”
He smiled, put his hand on the small of my back, and led me toward the aircraft. “Then let’s get suited up and make sure we’re jumping safely out of the plane, Anya.”
The inside of the aircraft was cramped and loud. I sat on the floor with my knees pulled up while the plane climbed higher and higher. The vibration never stopped. It hummed through the metal frame and through my body until it felt impossible to tell where the aircraft ended and my nerves began.
Every few minutes I looked out the window, then back to my hot instructor.
Thorne sat directly behind me, attached to my tandem harness. The arrangement mirrored that of all the other pairs, but somehow it felt more intimate with Thorne. I was intensely aware of his presence. Whenever the plane shifted, I could feel the pressure of him behind me, solid and reassuring.
My palms grew damp and my heart beat impossibly fast. I couldn’t quite decide whether it was due to Thorne’s attractiveness or the fact that we were further and further from the safety of the green fields.
I swallowed hard as I stared out the window again.
The roads below had become thin lines. Cars were mere dots. Houses looked like toys.
My stomach dropped. “I can’t do this.”
Hot breath brushed my earlobe. “You can.”
I shook my head furiously.
“No. Seriously. I can’t.”
“Trust me, Anya. You can.” The aircraft continued climbing. Thorne leaned closer so I could hear him over the roar of the engine. “We’ll do this together. You want to know why?”
I turned my head slightly toward him. “Why?”
“Because I want to take you out on a date.” The plane rattled, but all I was aware of was Thorne’s words against my skin. “Will you go out on a date with me, fair princess?”
“Yes,” I breathed, my pulse racing.
Then the door opened and the sky stretched endlessly around us. A blast of cold wind exploded through the cabin, but all I could feel was Thorne’s hard body behind me and his hands on my hips.
People ahead of us shuffled toward the opening and disappeared one by one into empty air. Then it was our turn. We started moving to the doorway. The earth lay thousands of feet below us.
Forests. Roads. Fields.
All distant.
Thorne leaned closer, and amid the roar of the wind and engine, his voice reached me.
“I’ve got you.”
And I’d never felt safer than I did in that moment.
We jumped. One second there was a metal floor under our feet and the next there was only weightlessness. Air slammed into me from every direction. The force of it stole my breath. I screamed and laughed, though the sound was swallowed almost instantly.
The cold air stung my cheeks while the landscape spread beneath us, painted in greens, golds, and blues.
The sun felt warm against my face despite the freezing wind.
My pulse still raced wildly.
“I’m flying,” I screamed, spreading my arms wide.
“Yes, you are.” Thorne’s voice felt distant, but his body wasn’t. I could feel him, holding me and keeping me safe. “You’re doing so good, Anya.”
The parachute opened with a powerful snap, replacing the rush of free fall. Suddenly the world became quiet as I drifted through the sky.
The countryside stretched beneath us like a living map. Sunlight shimmered across distant rivers. The wind brushed gently against my face.
“How are you feeling?” Thorne asked, his lips brushing against my ear.
“Great,” I screamed, laughing. “I can’t wait to go on that date with you.”
I felt him smile against my skin. “As soon as our feet touch the ground, my fair princess.”
My heart beat fast, and I’d never felt more alive. It had nothing to do with this reckless jump and everything to do with the promise of more.
A car horn shattered the memory, wrenching me from the Connecticut sky and back into the climbing heat and noise of Miami. I shook my head, forcing the past away.
I wouldn’t dwell on memories of my ex-husband today. In a few days, I’d celebrate my twenty-second birthday with my girlfriends and be my old self.
Or at least I would pretend until Jetmir left my mind and heart for good.