Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“He hasn’t been making a lot of sense,” Falcon says. “The doc says he may have some aphasia.”
“Meaning…?” I ask.
“Meaning he knows what he wants to say,” Mom says, “but it doesn’t come out quite right.”
I frown. “I see. Does that mean he suffered a stroke?”
“We don’t know yet,” Mom says. “The doctor seems to think it could resolve on its own. But he’s going down for an MRI soon so they can take a look at his brain.”
“I see.” I squeeze Dad’s shoulder. “It’s great to have you back, Dad.”
“Hawk is the door,” Dad says.
I guess that means he recognizes me.
“Raven and Vinnie are on their way,” Savannah says. “And Robin too.”
“I’ll go out into the hallway and wait for them,” I say. “I don’t want Dad to get overwhelmed.”
Mom nods. “All right, Hawk. I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for coming.”
I nod back at her. She doesn’t need to thank me for coming, and she knows it. He’s my father. Of course I would come.
Dad and I have a somewhat troubled history, but he’s my father. Plus, he gave me my blue eyes that have made me a chick magnet since I hit puberty. Something about the combination of tan skin, dark hair, and piercing blue eyes gets the women going like nothing else.
I pull Falcon aside for a minute. “What’s this ID requirement thing? Isn’t that overkill? Dad’s been here at the hospital for months already.”
“Not my idea,” Falcon says. “It was our attorney’s. And the security team backed him up.”
“Why, exactly?”
“Hell if I know.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Apparently now that Dad’s awake, things are different. Legal liability, inheritance, media vultures—they’re all circling.”
I narrow my eyes. “What does that have to do with checking my ID?”
Falcon leans in, his voice low. “Because if something happens to Dad now—anything—it’s going to blow back hard. They’re covering every base. Every person who steps foot in that room is logged.”
I glance toward the ICU doors. “So we’re treating him like a national secret now?”
“More like a walking target,” Falcon mutters. “You didn’t hear it from me, but someone tried to bribe a nurse last week to get access to his chart.”
My stomach drops. “What the hell?”
He nods grimly. “Yeah. So…ID checks. Security guard. Surveillance. All of it. Until we know who’s behind it.”
“Behind what?” I ask, suddenly colder.
Falcon looks me dead in the eye. “That’s the thing. We don’t know yet. Or if the attorneys do, they haven’t told me.”
I shake my head. “For fuck’s sake. Okay. I’ll wait outside for the others.”
I leave the room, only to run into Grace again.
She gives me another dazzling smile. “Just need to check your dad’s vitals.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m going to stay out here and wait for my sisters.”
Savannah didn’t say anything about Eagle being on his way.
Not a surprise.
As the youngest of our brood, Eagle has always had a wild streak. He tends to think with the wrong head, especially where Scarlett Ramsey is concerned.
Or he doesn’t think at all.
Which has gotten him in hot water more than once.
Does he even care what Falcon and I have given up for him? Especially Falcon. He went to prison for the SOB.
And I let him do it, even though I knew it wasn’t right.
I’ve tried to rationalize it. Weigh out the different outcomes.
But I’m not sure my conscience will ever be clean.
2
DANIELA
Belinda is playing the piano in Vinnie’s conservatory.
I could listen to her for hours. I do listen to her for hours.
Music has always been more than just sound to me. It’s like a sanctuary. I can lose myself in the melodies and harmonies and pretend that life is like music—a place where everything fits. Everything makes sense.
I no longer need a sanctuary. I live in one—Vinnie, Raven, Belinda, and me playing house in this strange version of paradise. Still, music gets to me. Cuts through the noise. Reminds me I’m alive, that life is worth living.
Belinda is a prodigy—brilliant and unnervingly precise. Now that she’s here, under Vinnie’s care, she’s finally getting the kind of attention and instruction she deserves. Today, she’s playing Mozart—a new piece.
Mozart has always been a weakness of mine. I know people think his music is light, maybe even easy. But they’re wrong. There’s a frightening kind of perfection in it. Every note is deliberate. Measured. There’s no chaos in Mozart. Just order.
And for someone like me—who grew up in the constant storm that was my father’s house in Colombia—that kind of order felt like escape.
Because my life back then?
It was anything but logical. Anything but safe. Nothing fit. Nothing made sense.
In the middle of all that madness, Mozart was a calming balm. My mother had a vinyl collection of his greatest symphonies, sonatas, and chamber works that I listened to in secret in our mansion’s library—one of the few places I was sure never to run into Dad.