Chapter Seventy Three

Chapter 73

"I'm saying," Jon replied, his tone heavy with regret, "that you're not just a victim in all this, Jemima. You're a player. And it's time you remembered your role."

Jemima's breath hit Jon's cryptic words echoing in her mind. The world seemed to shrink, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down on her chest. The tension in the room was suffocating, yet she couldn't allow herself to falter. Not now.

"What do you mean by that, Jon?" she asked, her voice firmer than she expected. Jon sighed heavily and Jemima kept her eyes on him, calculating his next shove. The momentary silence that engulfed them made Jemima’s nerves squirm.

“You see Jem,” Jon began as sat down opposite her. Jay watched him, not trusting his movements. Alan kept an unwavering scowl on his face, not liking that his father was trying to get himself involved.

Jon stared into Jemima’s eyes, His eyes boring into hers, unflinching, like a predator sizing up its prey.

"I mean," he began, his tone calm but heavy with meaning, "that the truth you've been chasing is far more dangerous than you realize. You think this is about uncovering secrets, about finding clarity. But it's not. It's about survival."

Jemima narrowed her eyes. "Stop speaking in riddles. If you know something, say it. I'm done with half-truths and cryptic warnings." From the tone of her voice, it was clear she was not going to be kept in the dark any longer, she needed to know what was going on and she wasn’t leaving there until she had gotten the answers she came to seek.

Jay shifted beside her, stepping slightly forward in a protective stance. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides. "You heard her. Stop stalling and tell us what you know." He too was fed up. Sometime between the time he traveled to Rome and came back, a lot that he didn’t know about had happened. It left Jem feeling perturbed and that bothered him a lot.

Jon's lips curved into a faint smirk. "Protective as ever, I see. But this isn't about you, Jay. It never was. This is about her. About what she's willing to sacrifice to claim what's rightfully hers."

"I don't want anything from you," Jemima shot back, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I just want the truth." Her abrupt scream took everyone by surprise. She didn’t need to look at anyone’s face to know just how crazy she probably looked.

"And I'll give it to you," Jon replied, his tone softening. He turned his gaze to Alan, who had been silently observing from the window. "But not with an audience. Leave us."

"What?" Alan's incredulity was palpable. "You can't be serious, father. I know everything you want to tell her. She—"

"Leave," Jon interrupted, his voice cold and commanding.

Alan hesitated, his gaze flicking between Jon and Jemima. His expression darkened, but he didn't argue further. With a final glare in Jemima's direction, he stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The silence that followed was oppressive. Jemima's heart raced as she waited for Jon to speak, every second stretching into an eternity.

“Sorry about Alan. He can be pretty irrational, especially considering what you did to him?”

“What I did do to him? What did I do to him? Tell me, Jon! Please!”

“You seriously can’t remember anything?”

Jemima shook her head negatively, realizing the full implication of his words. Maybe she was mad.

"Now before we address why you can’t remember anything let me refresh your memory,” Jon said, setting his glass down with deliberate care, "let's begin."

Jemima braced herself, drawing on every ounce of strength she had left. "Start with my mother," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. "Start with Diane."

Jon studied her for a long moment before nodding. "Your mother was a force to be reckoned with. Beautiful, intelligent, ruthless. She married Damien for power, not love. And when that power started to slip through her fingers, she made choices. Desperate choices."

Jemima's stomach churned. "What kind of choices did she make though that caused me my memory lapse?"

Jon sighed, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "When your father's empire began to crumble, Diane took matters into her own hands. She aligned herself with me—initially out of necessity, then out of ambition. She saw me as a way to secure her place, to protect you and Marcus. She drugged Damien and made him take advantage of you.”

“What! He did?” Jemima bellowed, her body beginning to shake with rage and disgust.

Jay snorted. "And she did that to Protect them? By throwing them into the lion's den?"

Jon's gaze flicked to Jay, his expression unreadable. "You don't understand the world she was navigating. It was either aligned with me or watched her family be destroyed. She chose what she thought was the lesser evil."

Jemima's voice wavered as she asked, "And what about Marcus and me? What did she promise you?"

Jon's jaw tightened. "She offered you both as leverage. Assets to be molded, trained, and eventually integrated into the family business. But she didn't follow through. Instead, she betrayed me."

Jemima's breath caught. "How?"

"She started feeding information to our rivals," Jon explained, his tone dark. "Sabotaging operations, undermining my authority. She thought she could play both sides, but she underestimated the consequences."

Jemima's chest tightened as the pieces began to fall into place. "And you killed her for it."

Jon didn't flinch. "I didn’t Jem. You did- Diane and Damien. Ava has a bruise on her back though and she’s one-eyed.”

A wave of nausea rolled over Jemima. She staggered back, her vision blurring as the weight of his confession hit her. Jay was at her side in an instant, his hand steadying her.

“No, I didn’t. I let them go. I even texted her earlier. They’re not dead. They saved us!”

“Jem, what are you talking about?” Jay asked her, worry lacing her features.

“After the dock incident, wasn’t it Ava who came to help us? With Diane and Damien? I set them free. Marcus was there too,” Jemima rambled, perspiration forming like beads against her forehead.

“Jem, it was just Marcus, Ava, and the men he hired,” Jay answered, weariness plastering across his face.

“But when I said you shouldn’t tell my family about this meeting, I —”

“I assumed you were referring to Marcus and Ava.”

"Why tell me this now Jon?” she asked, her voice breaking. "Why not let me live in ignorance?"

“You wanted the truth, SK!”

Jemima abruptly turned her head at the nickname. What was real and what wasn’t? How was she? Why did it feel like there was a cloth covering a significant part of her memory?

Jemima shook her head, her thoughts spiraling. "Jay, what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I remember anything? I swear I texted Diane, look…”

Jemima whipped out her phone and tried to scroll past the message but could only find a text message to herself. Her mouth dried up.


“What is happening Jay?”

The room was spinning, the air heavy with tension. Jemima felt like she was drowning, each revelation pulling her deeper into the abyss.

Jay's voice cut through the haze. “Enough of the information Jon, there’s a bigger situation in play here and that could be her mental health.”

Jon's eyes narrowed. "And what are you, Jay? Her protector? Her knight in shining armor? You think you can shield her from this world?"

"I don't think," Jay shot back. "I know. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."

Jon smirked, his gaze flicking between them. "How noble. But you're missing the point. This isn't about protection. It's about survival."

Jemima stepped forward, her voice firm despite the storm raging inside her. "Stop talking like I'm not here. If you think I'm going to let you dictate my life, you're wrong. I'll make my own choices. And I'll do it on my terms."

Jon studied her for a long moment before nodding. "Fair enough. But don't wait too long to decide, Jemima. The clock is ticking."

As they left the penthouse, Jemima's mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Betrayal, anger, grief—they all collided, threatening to overwhelm her. Jay's hand on her back was the only thing keeping her grounded.

"Are you okay?" he asked as they reached the car.

She nodded, though she didn't believe it herself. "I just... need time to process."

Jay didn't push. He opened the car door for her, and they drove in silence, the city lights casting fleeting patterns across their faces.

But as they merged onto the highway, Jemima's phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and froze.

"What is it?" Jay asked, his eyes flicking to her.

"It's Marcus," she said, her voice tight. She answered the call, her heart pounding.

"Jem," Marcus's voice came through the line, strained and urgent. "You need to come home. Now."

"What's going on?" she asked, dread creeping into her chest.

"It's Ava," Marcus said, his voice breaking. "She's missing."