“Dad,” I call out.
He freezes for a split second, then resumes his stance and hits another ball, ignoring me. The crack of the club meeting the ball echoes across the green.
I close the distance between us, steeling myself for the confrontation. “We need to talk,” I say, coming to a stop a few feet from him.
He doesn’t look at me, focusing on lining up his next shot. “You didn’t want to talk when I tried calling you,” he says, his voice cold.
Anger flares in my chest, hot and sudden. “Really?” I put my hands on my hips, channeling every ounce of Valeur stubbornness I possess.
He stops mid-swing and turns to face me, his eyes blazing. “Where were you all these hours? I called countless times.”
I narrow my eyes, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Again, you’re making everything about you. Everything has to revolve around Peter Valeur. Heaven forbid I didn’t immediately return your calls.” My voice rises with each word, years of pent-up frustration pouring out. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Dad, no matter how much money you have or what empire you’ve built. So I’m sorry I almost died, and I’m sorry it took me time to calm down and wash fucking human pieces off my body. I’m sorry I didn’t think about you in those moments, that I gave myself priority.”
I turn on my heel, ready to storm off, every muscle in my body tense with anger.
“Wait,” he calls out, a note of desperation in his tone I’ve rarely heard before.
I pause, not turning around, waiting to hear what he has to say.
He catches up to me, his hand hovering over my shoulder before he lets it fall. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” The words come out strained. “I was so angry, and I couldn’t think beyond my anger. All I’ve been able to think about is that someone tried to kill my little girl, and then when you didn’t answer me for hours, I lost it. I’m sorry.”
I turn to face him, searching his eyes for sincerity. After a moment, he places his hand on my shoulder, and I allow it. “How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice softer now.
“Shocked,” I answer, the events of the past hours crashing over me anew. “My ears are still ringing from the gunshot.”
“Did Ryder come with you? I want to thank him.”
“What?” I look at Dad with wide eyes. It’s impossible that he doesn’t know. “Dad, Ryder’s in the hospital, fighting for his life.”
“I didn’t know. He got shot?”
I take a deep breath, steadying myself before I explain. “No, Dad. It wasn’t the kidnapper. Someone poisoned Ryder to get him out of the picture.” My voice trembles as I continue, eachword a dagger to my heart. “They wanted to clear the way to get to me.”
I pause, meeting my dad’s eyes, willing him to understand the depth of Ryder’s sacrifice. “Ryder knew he’d been poisoned, Dad. He knew it could kill him. But instead of going to the hospital, he came for me, just to save me.”
My voice breaks, but I push on. “You fired him. You said those awful things to him, about him. But none of that mattered to Ryder. He came back for me, risking everything, because he loves me.”
Dad bites his lip and turns away, mumbling words I can’t hear. When he faces me again, his expression is a mix of regret and anguish.
“I’m sorry I hurt you. That’s the last thing I wanted to happen. Believe me. Everything I’ve done in my life has been for my children. I made mistakes, many of them it seems, but they were all out of concern and love for the four of you.”
“Telling the love of my life that he’s after my money, that he’s using me, those aren’t statements of love,” I counter, my voice cracking with emotion. “You hurt him. You hurt me.”
“This isn’t what I wanted for you. This isn’t the life I wanted for you.”
“But this is the life I choose for myself, Dad. I’m not your little girl anymore. I’m a grown woman capable of making my own decisions.” My voice softens slightly, pleading for understanding. “Ryder loves me, truly loves me. He gives me everything I need, everything I want. He protected me at the cost of his own life, even after you fired him. Can’t you see how special that is?”
A flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crosses Dad’s face. “I... I’m beginning to understand.”
My throat tightens as the reality of the situation crashesover me again. “That understanding may have come too late. I could lose him, Dad.” Tears threaten to spill over. “The doctors don’t know the full extent of the poison’s damage. He waited so long to get treatment because he was determined to reach me first.”
“But he succeeded, Cora. You’re alive. That’s what truly matters. It was his job to protect you, after all.”
“No!” I snap, my voice sharp. “Don’t you get it? He has to live. I won’t accept any other outcome.” I search Dad’s face, looking for any sign of empathy. “If you think I can just go on with my life as if nothing happened, you don’t understand me at all.”
I pause, a painful thought forming. “Dad, do you even remember what it means to truly love someone? Do you remember how you felt about Mom?” My voice drops to a near-whisper. “Or did you never really love her at all?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve gone too far. Dad’s face contorts with anger, his voice rising. “How can you talk like that? How dare you say these things?”
