“It has not been that long. Seven months, Mom.”
“Ridge, you need to get your ass home, now. No more excuses,” my father said in a stern tone he hadn’t taken with me since I was a wild teenager trying to push every boundary he set.
“Someone tell me about Violet and the baby. Is it hers?”
Both of my parents sighed. “Hers and yours, Ridge,” my mom admitted.
I was floored. Stunned silent and stupid.
“Mine? But you’ve seen her. You knew. No one told me.”
“Violet asked us not to, son,” my father explained.
“Why? Why would she do that? Why would she hide my baby from me and how in the hell could you let her do that?”
“She was afraid!” my mother yelled.
“Of what? Me? I would never hurt her.”
“Of the woman you ran off to the other side of the world with and of your shitty judgement,” Mom hissed the words icily as if to curse me for them being true.
“She was worried what Fiona might do to her baby. The woman is a conniving rapist, son. She obviously has no qualms about drugging people to get what she wants, raping them, or manipulating her way further into your life through lies. Violet worried that Fiona would harm your child because it would be another stumbling block between you and that bitch.”
“I would never allow that to happen?”
“You mean the way you never allowed her to manipulate you into getting drunk with her? Talking about your marriage? Believing your wife and cousin were cheating? Or maybe the way she convinced you to take her to another country while you refused to clear up the optics with reporters, or even your ex-wife, that you were having an affair rather than having been assaulted?”
“Shit. I’m headed home. They’re getting the jet ready. Is Vi in the hospital?”
“She is,” my father confirmed.
“You will need permission to get to her, though. Due to the nature of her accident, visitors are locked down and Violet has to approve them first.”
“Then I’ll wait there until she lets me in or gets released,” I promised.
Violet was pregnant. I missed damn near the whole thing.
Fucking Fiona Iverson would pay double.
“Did you say witnesses thought Fiona was involved in the accident?”
My father explained how the accident happened and that Violet told police that someone had been following her from her apartment. My blood began to boil.
“I think you can see why Violet was concerned enough to keep you out of the loop while you were still involved with that woman,” Mom interjected.
“I’m not involved with Fiona and never have been.” I growled my response. “It’s not right that everyone kept Violet’s pregnancy from me. If I had known, I would have put a security detail on her. I would have come back home sooner.”
“She’s not going to like the fact that the only reason you’re talking to her now is because of the baby.” Dad wasn’t wrong, even if it wasn’t the case, Violet would most likely see it that way.
“That’s not true. I tried to call her before but it went to voicemail.”
“A call? After everything you’ve put that poor girl through, Ridge?” my mom asked.
“Look, I have to go. I have a long flight to catch and hours before I can get there. Please, keep me updated.”
“Visiting hours are over here for the day, but we’ll do what we can,” Dad promised, and I hung up immediately. On my way to the airport, I got a hold of my lawyer and the private detective charged with finding Fiona.
“Find her. I don’t care what you have to do, what laws need to be broken, or who you need to hire to get the job done. She ran my pregnant wife and her kid brother off the road. Fiona needs to be stopped.”
