And though she didn’t have an escape plan yet, she did have the wherewithal to engage in one of the oldest strategies in the book: stalling.
If she could get him talking and keep him talking, she might buy herself enough time to figure out a way out.
“I am not a whore,” she retorted.
Making a face at her oversharing, the old king scoffed, saying, “Everyone knows American girls are easy. You may have fooled my son, but you will never fool me. And you have brought as much shame on my house as I will allow. My son has done me a favor in hiding your pregnancy. No one need know more than the fact that you died in a tragic accident. As a widower, my son can make a more appropriate selection for his next wife.”
The idea of Jag with another woman was a knife in her chest, but she would not let this cruel man see it.
“You know what?” Rita said. “I’m getting real tired of everyone talking about what’s wrong with me.”
Taken aback, her father-in-law looked mildly surprised and confused, as if perhaps he thought she might not have heard the words he’d said.
Taking advantage of the pause, she jumped back in with, “It’s always how my interests are not the right ones, nor my choices, nor passions. First it was my father, and now you, each one telling me that I am somehow inappropriate, that I need to change to better fit your image of the world. Well, you know what,” she said. “I’m tired of it. And it was your son who made me see it. Never once has he asked me to change who I am to better fit his requirements. He delights in who I am, without alteration or revision, and I have been a fool to not realize what a precious gift that kind of love is. Unconditional. It is something you will never understand, so I won’t waste my breath trying to explain, but I will not allow you to call me a whore. I am no man’s whore, but I am your son’s wife. I will be the mother of his children and your grandchildren, and what is more than that, I love him and them with every fiber of my being. I will not tolerate you disrespecting what we have built. I was accepted to the University of California at Berkeley at the age of sixteen. At the age of eighteen my father cut me off in one of the most expensive cities in the world and not only did I manage to pay for my life with my work, I also paid for the remainder of my tuition. By the age of twenty, I had a dual master’s degree in computer science and mechanical engineering, as well as a start-up valued at two million dollars. And while I don’t expect you to be impressed with that kind of money, I do expect you to be impressed by the fact that seven years later I had invented multiple technologies with the capacity to change the world. Interest in Hayat has skyrocketed since the world found out about its new American Bengali Muslim working-class princess, and your son is the most popular royal your line has seen in generations. By my calculations, I’d say that means your reign is coming to a close, and, in addition to being absolutely suitable to be a princess exactly as I am, I am exceptional at math.”
She was under no impression that her little speech would inspire her father-in-law to release her; it was merely a way to eat some time and release a bit of righteous indignation and fear she felt.
So she was surprised when, as soon as she finished speaking, a massive commotion erupted at the entrance to the room, and like an ancient warrior, Jag flew in.
Seeing him, knowing he knew where she was and trusting him entirely to get her and their babies safely out of there, she surprised herself by bursting into tears.
She and her babies had narrowly escaped disaster.
And she wouldn’t have to do the rest on her own.
She was ready to tell him now how desperately in love she had fallen with him. Having been brave enough to say it out loud once, she was ready to do it again for real with him.
She had finally learned to speak up for herself and to fight for what she loved—people, places and things.
She was brave enough to own her emotions, her hopes, her dreams and her actions.
And because of that, she could demand the same of others, including her parents.
Jag had been her safe space and testing ground for the theory, and once he’d taken care of things here and they were in a bit safer a spot and she’d had a chance to shower him with her declarations of love, she vowed to take everything that she’d learned and make her family listen, too.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JAGHADDRIVENfrom his palace directly to his father’s, where he knew Rita would be.
Arriving there, he took the stairs two at a time before sprinting toward his father’s private chambers, in time to hear Rita, strident and proud, declare to his father that she loved him and their babies and she would tolerate no disrespect on the matter.
As if he had sprouted wings at her words, he tore through the distance to find what was truly his nightmare come to life, all of this familiar as much as it was new.
Falling in love with Rita and getting her pregnant had not been the nightmare. His father was.
Seeing his father standing before his wife, who was tied up in a chair and crying, was a real nightmare.
His father intended to throw her off the balcony.
Jag was as certain of it as he was of his own name.
The man who had consigned Jag’s mother to die alone would not hesitate to throw the woman he loved and their unborn children off a balcony.
His father loved his power positions, and his private balcony had always been his favorite.
Jag did not think, plan or strategize. Impossibly, he simply sped up—running at his father and Rita far faster than the pace of his father’s deranged retreat.
With a roar, he leaped, reaching out to clasp Rita’s wrist with an iron grip before swinging his body to kick his father away from her, catching the man in the chest.