Page 104 of Jetmir

“You can’t speak for Mama,” I protested. “I’m sure with time she’ll understand.”

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head. “Just like you’re choosing him, I’m choosing her. Bringing this man around your mother will only seek to retraumatize her. I won’t allow that.”

“Retraumatize her?” My brows knitted. “Trauma? What… trauma?”

He couldn’t possibly be speaking about what I’d done three years ago. Yes, I snuck off and got married. Yes, I used the pretense of the raggedy Albanian shore for my photoshoot to be with Jetmir. But that couldn’t have been that traumatic for her. Right?

“This island…” My father’s eyes dropped to my husband. “Him and his resemblance to Santiago Tijuana, the man who kidnapped your mother and tortured her… almost raped her. You cannot expect me to allow that near my wife.”

I blinked, then blinked again, my whole world spiraling with Papa’s words.

“What?” I breathed, certain my mind was conjuring things. There was no way I heard him correctly. “What are you talking about?”

“I simply won’t allow it, Anya,” Papa gritted.

“It’s not for you to allow it, Raphael.” Mama’s voice cut through the tension and she appeared on the beach flanked by two of her bodyguards.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

RAPHAEL

Every muscle in my body locked at the sound of my wife’s voice.

I slowly turned and found Sailor walking across the stretch of sand. She didn’t appear intimidated in the slightest by the scene nor this island. God, she made me so proud.

Even after over two decades together, she was still the only woman who could calm me down while simultaneously riling me up. She was my reina.

She was surveying the situation, but her eyes landed on me. Disappointment settled over her features and it cut deep.

“Sailor,” I said gently. “My reina, you shouldn’t be here.”

The last time we were on this cursed island, I had to carry her off of it beaten and bruised. Broken.

But not today.

Today, she walked with her head held high, strength oozing from her every pore. And she was mad… at me.

She walked past me and knelt beside Anya, cupping our daughter’s face and wiping the tears streaking her cheeks.

“My beautiful girl,” she whispered. “I’m so happy to see you. Are you hurt?”

Anya shook her head. “No, Mama, but what is Papa saying?”

“Papa is protective of me. Kind of like your husband is of you.”

“But, Mama⁠—”

“Shhh,” she cut her off. “We shall not speak of the past. I only want to see you loved and cherished.”

“I am, Mama.”

Sailor glanced at the scum still pinned in the sand, blood staining the back of his neck. Only then did she address me. “Let him go.” When I didn’t move, she looked at my men. “I said, let my son-in-law go.”

They all looked at me, and I let out a string of curses. Anyone else, I would have killed them, but this was my wife. My reina. My life.

I did as was told and stood, taking a small step back, but my finger remained on the trigger.

Jetmir pushed himself upright slowly, clearly aching, yet the first thing he did wasn’t defend himself.