Chapter 25
Kian
Zemra ime. My love.
The words slipped from my mouth, effortless and unguarded. It was the first time I’d ever spoken them aloud to a woman.
I meant them—fully, terrifyingly—and that alone should have been my warning. She would be my unraveling. A commitment I had no intention of breaking.
And damn if it wasn’t a beautiful way to fall.
“You mentioned you miss your job,” I started before I got too wrapped up in everything that was Sophie Baldwin.
Sadness flickered in her expression before resignation settled over it.
“I really miss it,” she murmured. “Along with the sense of purpose.”
I nodded, unsurprised.
One only had to glance at Sophie’s background to see she was not a woman content with standing still.
Ambitious and fiercely competent, she was also unmistakably a workaholic, the kind of person who thrived on challenge and burned the midnight oil without complaint.
To have been appointed head of the OB-GYN department at her age—an achievement made even more remarkable given that it came before her cousin purchased the hospital—was a testament not only to her skill but to the sheer force of her determination.
“I have a friend who runs the local hospital. I could see if they’re in need of a—”
She squealed and jumped to her knees. “Are you serious?”
I smiled. “Dead serious, but no promises.”
It was a blatant lie. The man owed me favors and would give a toddler a job if I so demanded it, but I wanted to make sure Sophie was comfortable there first.
She nodded.
“Understood.” But then she let out another squeal. “But to work again and hear that first baby’s cry…”
“It’s nice to see when someone loves their job.”
She sighed. “I really do. This life of leisure has been nice but hard, and it’s certainly not helping my morning crankiness.”
“All right, I’ll set it up and take you to meet him. Think of it as your interview of him as much as his of you.”
“Thank you.” God, she was beautiful when she beamed like this. If she asked for the moon, I’d find a way to get up there and drag it down.
“Should I secure an afternoon shift for you? I don’t want you to have to deal with morning crankiness.”
She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’ll take whatever shift they offer.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Are you sure? You tend to be pretty cranky when someone wakes you up.”
“I know.” She flashed me a somewhat sheepish smile. “The funny thing is when it’s for work, I’m pretty good and professional. The monster only comes out when I’m sleeping with no work lined up but still get woken up.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I let out a sardonic breath. “Not sure if I should take it personally that you tolerate work more than me in the morning.”
She winked playfully. “I tolerate work, but you’re more important than that.”
I chuckled, although those words sealed my obsession right there and then. There’d be no moving on from it or from her. Ever.
“You have no idea what this potential job means to me,” she continued, oblivious to all these feelings she was stirring inside me. “My aunt says I tend to become a terror when I’m bored. She’s right.”
“You two are close?”
I nodded. “Yes. She and Kristoff have been amazing to me.”
“Ah, his mother.”
I knew some things about her: parents dead, went to live with her aunt and cousin, attended medical school, graduated cum laude. But her file didn’t give me details on her emotions and dreams. I wanted to know it all.
“I was loved and protected. Losing my parents hurt, but they made it bearable, you know. My childhood and adolescent years were happy.”
“Just as they should have been.”
“Once you left your father, did… Were you happy?” she questioned. “He didn’t find you ever again, right?”
“I didn’t see him again until the night I took his life,” I said coldly.
“He thought I’d run straight to Albania—to my grandfather and my mother.
Instead, I enlisted. I built a few companies—one of them was Blackhawk Security.
When my grandfather died, I inherited the Albanian mafia.
And all the while, working in the shadows, I dismantled the Cortes Cartel piece by piece—even after my half brother took over. ”
“You two weren’t close, then?”
“No.”
And that was the understatement of the century. Perez thrived on drugging and raping women, among many other sick things.
However, that was one truth I would never share with her.
She already carried more guilt than she should have to bear over what happened to her niece.
Telling her everything would serve no purpose but cruelty.
Some burdens weren’t meant to be passed on, and I refused to make her carry the weight of his sins on top of her own.
“And Jonathan?” I asked. “You met him through Kristoff?”
Her shoulders slumped the smallest bit, but it landed like a blow to my chest.
I’d never been a jealous man. It was a foreign feeling to me, and by this point in my life, I was—should be—far too old for something so juvenile. And yet there it was, sharp and unwelcome, curling in my gut. It was absurd. The man was dead, and competing with ghosts was a losing battle.
Still, the feeling burned.
She was alive. She was with me. Jonathan wasn’t. He didn’t protect Sophie from the danger of his ex-wife and never shielded her from the fallout of her actions. But I would.
My role was to be her protector, and I would rather die than fail at it.
“Jonathan… God, it feels like decades have passed since it all started.” A loose strand of her hair slipped across her cheek, catching in her lashes. I brushed it back behind her ear, my thumb lingering for half a second longer than necessary.
She exhaled and went on in a sad voice, the crashing waves by the shoreline serving as a calming soundscape.
“It started as a crush. I was too young for him.” I let out a soft, strangled laugh.
“Ironic, right? Considering our age gap,” she said, smiling.
“But I was a teen back then, and Kristoff threatened to murder Jonathan if he tried anything with me. Anyway, we flirted—harmless, platonic flirting. I was so in love I could barely breathe, but nothing ever happened. It couldn’t have. ”
Her smile faded as her gaze drifted somewhere past me, back into memory.
“Then, out of nowhere, I found out he got Kristoff’s wife pregnant.
Just like that, Jonathan was untouchable.
Off-limits forever.” She shook her head.
“You know how teenagers are. The world ended that day. Everything went dark. But somehow, I kept living.”
I nodded, the weight of it settling in my chest, and let the silence stretch. She needed it.
“A few years ago, we reconnected,” she said finally.
“And that stupid crush came roaring back. I fell for him again, but it was the version of him I’d built in my head over the years.
” Her fingers tightened in the frayed edge of our beach rug.
“But real life doesn’t stay neatly packaged.
This time, Jonathan came with so much baggage. And I’m not talking about his son.”
A bitter edge crept into her voice. “The kid was sweet. So responsible. But he was caught in the crossfire, just like I was. I’m talking about her.” She swallowed. “The psychopathic bitch who seemed to live for making everyone’s life a living hell.”
“Not for long,” I vowed.
“Have you…” She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. “Have you found Jacqueline and her entourage?”
Kingston provided an update this morning. Jacqueline was clearly in hiding, but not from law enforcement. Whatever line she’d crossed, it had been lethal. She’d drawn the attention of the Black Oil Syndicate, and now her name sat on the “Find & Capture: Do Not Kill” list.
“No, but we’re close.”
I’d ensured that Black Oil understood to deliver her to me if they got her before me, but knowing Kingston, it was very unlikely.