Page 47 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8

‘Yours lied to him,’ he seethed. ‘They were relatively new business partners, both ambitious and keen to grow their new venture capitalist business.’ His lips twisted. ‘Your father was a little more reckless in his approach than mine. Before you refute that, I have the evidence.’

Willow nodded, recalling the fights that’d started the fractures that eventually broke her family. Her mother screaming that she felt neglected, that she came second to Paul Chatterton’s love for his company.

Perhaps her agreement mollified Jario. After a beat, he continued. ‘He told my father the business meeting he’d arranged was taking place in Bogotá.’

Willow frowned. ‘What was wrong with Bogotá? Wasn’t it safe there?’

Lines bracketed Jario’s mouth, his eyes turning midnight blue. ‘Compared to where we ended up, Bogotá was a theme park,’ he said chillingly.

‘Did your father know the risks? Why would he...?’ She paused as he stiffened. Then a flash of bleakness shadowed his eyes.

‘You think I haven’t asked myself that over the years?’

‘But it’s easier to blame the living?’ she murmured.

His eyes blazed. ‘You dare to say that to me?’

‘You said you’ve thought about it. So you’ve probably considered why he went along with my father when he knew it was risky.’

He appeared a touch nonplussed, a frown creasing his brows before he shook his head.

‘With the right safety measures in place, Bogotá was safe enough. And he believed he had kidnap insurance should the worst happen.’

Willow stiffened. ‘What do you mean, he believed? Didn’t he know?’

A furious tremor ran through him. ‘He trusted your father when he said he’d arranged it. But he lied. He took it out for himself alone while assuring my father that he and the son he’d brought along, because said son wanted to spend his fifteenth birthday in his father’s country of birth, were covered.’

Cold horror washed over her, acid from the fruit rising until she feared she’d throw up. ‘Where did you...? What happened?’

He named a place she’d never heard of. ‘We were barely on the ground before we were taken.’

A vise squeezed her heart. ‘Jario—’

‘We were held for four months in a series of caves and basements, relocated often so we never knew where we were.’ His voice was devoid of inflection. Almost. His stony face contorted with cold bitterness and icier fury. ‘But your father was released after three weeks.’ His gaze speared into hers from across the table. ‘I bet you didn’t even realise he was gone?’

Horror blended with sympathy for him. ‘He was gone a lot on business when I was growing up. But I noticed a difference when he got back. That was when...’

‘His own demons started haunting him?’ he filled in bitterly. At her nod, a dull sheen swept over his eyes. ‘At least he’s alive.’

Her heart squeezed. ‘And your father isn’t. You must hate me.’

He dragged a hand down his face with an exhausted laugh. ‘A week ago, I probably would’ve. But...’ He stopped. Frowned.

‘But?’ Far too much rode on that single word.

Eyes weighted with bewilderment, pain and a resolution she couldn’t quite fully determine regarded her steadily. ‘But for reasons I can’t quite work out, I find myself not at all consumed with destroying you and a little less consumed with destroying your father.’

Her mouth dropped open at the raw admission. But when she rose, intending to move towards him, he raised his hand. ‘Jario—’

‘Don’t take that to mean I’ve gone soft, Willow,’ he said forcefully. Perhaps a littletooforcefully.

She dropped back into her chair, her insides still twisting over the admission.

‘I don’t intend to revisit this story again. Do you want to hear what happened to us after your selfish father left us behind?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered, shame and anger dredging through her because she recognised the selfishness Jario described. Her father had laughed off his naked ambition as single-minded dedication to growing a successful business, but she recalled the mood swings, the irrational lashing out and the icy indifference. He’d knowingly tainted her in his selfish guilt and haunted suffering.

But it was nothing compared to Jario’s harrowing loss. She started as he rose from the table, dragged agitated fingers through his hair.