Four Secret Babies - A Second Chance Billionaire Romance by Layla Valentine & Holly Rayner

Author:Layla Valentine & Holly Rayner [Valentine, Layla & Rayner, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Jordan

A Few Hours Earlier

I paced back and forth through the luxurious interior of my father’s private jet, counting down the minutes till we would touch down in San Bravado. I knew that having access to the jet wasn’t part of the agreement my father and I had come to, but I didn’t care. He was in the hospital, and nothing was going to keep me from his side.

Impatience gripped me. At the end of one of my paces, I took the phone to the cockpit off the wall and called the pilot.

“Yes, Mr. King?” he asked.

“What’s our ETA?” I asked.

“We’re passing over the Rockies now. Shouldn’t be more than an hour and a half.”

“Any news about my father?”

“Not so far,” he said. “We’re going through some interference at the moment. Communication with the ground right now is spotty, at best.”

“Is there anything to do to get there faster?” I asked. “Anything at all?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. King. We’re going there straight as the crow flies. I’ll keep you posted if anything changes.”

Part of me wanted to yell and scream, to have some outlet for my frustration. Instead, I thanked the pilot and hung up.

I couldn’t believe the news. My father, that strong, powerful man who’d built his company from the ground up, had been reduced to lying unconscious in some hospital bed due to a damned stroke.

He’d seemed so healthy the last time I’d seen him.

Then again, the last time I’d seen him was during the holidays, just a few days after we’d had that fight.

The fight when I’d stormed out of dinner, never wanting to see his face again. We’d kept our interactions to a minimum over the next few days, and the holidays had amounted to nothing more than barely contained resentment.

I had to see him again, to put things right. When I’d gone back to New York, having cut my holiday visit short, I’d figured that we’d make up at some point, at some vague time in the future. There’s all the time in the world, part of me had thought. Hell, maybe I could ignore it, let it all blow over, have enough time pass that things would be right back to normal the next time I saw the old man.

Time. Didn’t have any of that now.

Eventually, we were over the Rockies and clear of the interference. As soon as the pilot let me know that we had reception again, I called the hospital and demanded an update.

“Better,” they told me. “He’s still out of it—not in any condition to talk. But we have him stabilized for now.”

I paced backed and forth, the phone pressed against the side of my face. Each heartbeat was a fresh pulse of anxiety.

“Can you tell him something?” I said finally. “Can you pass along a message from me?”

“He’s…not very cognizant of what’s going on,” said the doctor. “It’s still very touch-and-go.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “But I need you to tell him something, even if you think he can’t hear you.

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