More Than Love (The Barrington Billionaires Book 5)

by Ruth Cardello

“True. Okay. Call me when you know something.”

  “I will.”

  Viviana wandered from room to room in the apartment, gathering her courage and the right words. She wasn’t a child anymore. It wasn’t like her father could ground her.

  She just didn’t want him to be disappointed in her—or her child.

  She dialed his number and took a seat at the kitchen table because that’s where she and her father’d had most of their serious talks when she was younger. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hi, baby, what’s up?”

  “I’m pregnant, Dad.”

  “Oh, okay.” She recognized his shocked, stalling phrase.

  “I’m really early on, so I wasn’t going to say anything yet, but it’s something that has to be considered when I think about moving home.”

  Her father cleared his throat. “What about the father?”

  She could have lied then, but she wanted a better relationship with her father and that required honesty. “It was nothing serious.” Even though she told herself she was okay with it, saying the words still hurt. She reminded herself harshly that she hadn’t known him long. Whatever feelings she might think she had for him were likely side effects from all the hormones rushing around her body. I refuse to miss a man I never really knew. Yes, meeting him changed my life in more ways than I was prepared for, but I will not be sad if it ends up meaning nothing to him.

  “Is he going to be part of the child’s life?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Dad. There’s something I need to ask you, though, before I come back.”

  “Anything.”

  Viviana let out a slow breath before saying, “Were you ever scared?”

  “About parenting?” He made a pained sound. “Of course I was. And it doesn’t get easier. You always worry if you’re doing it right.” He was quiet a moment, then added, “When your mother died, I looked into sending you to live with your aunt. I spend all my time with men. I thought you might be better with someone who knew about female things. In the end, I loved you too much to let you go, and I had to hope that was enough.”

  Viviana did cry then. Silent tears because her father didn’t need to know what she’d had in her head and heart for too long. “You did a great job, Dad. That’s why I want to raise my baby around you, Dylan, and Connor. I want this baby, and I want it to be around people I know will love it.”

  “Then you’re right to come home, baby. Does this mean you want your old room?”

  Her time in Boston had helped her find her voice and understand that it was okay to want a place of her own. “No, I still want my own place, but maybe close enough that we could walk over.”

  Her father laughed. “Do you remember Henry and Stella Hahn? They’re selling their house. It’s three blocks away, which might be good exercise for you when you get fat.”

  “You did not just say that.”

  “I did.” He laughed again and a huge smile spread across her face. The one thing construction company owning dads didn’t do was sugar things up.

  “Well, Grandpa, three blocks sounds like a long way for someone who will soon have a walker, but we’ll meet you halfway—me, the baby, and my big post pregnancy butt.”

  “Hang on, your brothers just came in. Hey, Connor and Dylan, start washing your hands more, Viviana is having a baby.” He groaned. “No, not right this minute. She hasn’t been gone that long. I worry about them, Viv. I really do. We have to find them wives or something. I won’t always be around to explain life to them.”

  “You’re not going anywhere for a long, long time, Dad.”

  “No, I’m not, baby,” her father assured her quickly.

  Viviana hadn’t meant her comment to sound as dramatic as it came out. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. Milestones in her future flashed before her eyes and she wanted him at all of them. He needed to be the one to teach her child to fish. Boy or girl, she wanted her child to enjoy the side of her father she had enjoyed. Suddenly all those memories of sharing bagged lunches on construction sites with her family and their crew, listening to questionably appropriate stories from how they’d all spent their weekend, wasn’t so bad. She wanted her child to know the joy of learning to ride a bike on the shaded sidewalk of the tree-lined street she grew up on. Odd how her view of so much had changed since she’d been away. I guess sometimes you can’t see how good something is until you experience life without it.

  What would Grant think of that kind of life? Would he consider his privileged childhood better? If she’d told him about their baby would he have tried to take the child from her, wrongly thinking he could give it a better life? The mere idea of that sent a shiver down her back. It doesn’t matter what he would or wouldn’t think since he’ll never know about this child.

  Chapter Eleven

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  Two painfully long days later, Grant ended his day by changing into jogging clothes and heading out the front door of his building. He needed to clear his head before he saw his family that night. His siblings had debated when and what to say to their parents and decided to wait until their mother’s latest charity event was over. Kenzi organized a mid-week family dinner under the guise of Andrew wanting to see everyone again before heading back to Florida where he and his wife now had a beautiful house near her parents’ animal rescue.

  After this, the worst of it would be over. If their mother took the news hard, that was to be expected, but she wasn’t alone. Together they would help her through it. His family finally had the truth. Now they could let go and heal.

  He checked his watch and was about to take off in a run when he heard a man say, “That’s him.”

  “Are you sure? He doesn’t look rich.”

  The hair on the back of Grant’s neck went up. Was I too confident there would be no consequence to learning the truth? I’m smarter than this. I should have taken into account that there might be someone left who would be afraid of loose ends.

  He turned slowly on his heel, his body coiled and readying to dodge a bullet if need be. Two tall blond men in jeans and plaid shirts didn’t look like hitmen, but since he didn’t have much experience with those he really couldn’t say.

  “I’ve seen a photo of him. That’s definitely him,” one of the men said.

  “You think he can hear us?”

  They each were about Grant’s height and build, but they weren’t exactly intellectually intimidating. Grant relaxed somewhat. “Who are you looking for?”

  One of the men stepped forward and scowled at him. “Are you Grant Barrington?”

  “If I am?” Grant asked, still assessing both threat and angles for defense.

  “We’re here about Viviana Sutton.”

  He grabbed the nearest one by the front of his shirt and hauled him closer. If these buffoons thought they could threaten him by threatening her, they were about to be introduced to reality. “If anything happens to her, there is nowhere you or anyone you care about could hide. I’m not Stiles. I’ll strike first, and I’ll keep striking until you and yours are erased.”

  “No wonder she didn’t tell him. Dylan, I told you coming here was a bad idea.”

  “Stop being such a pussy, Connor. How are we going to scare him if you piss yourself? It doesn’t matter who he is. We’re not leaving until we know he won’t show his face in Cairo.”

  Dylan? Connor? They couldn’t be. Grant released the front of the man’s shirt. “First of all, I can hear you. Second, is your last name Sutton?”

  Connor said, “He probably wants it for the police report.”

  Dylan added, “We didn’t do anything wrong. He threatened us. Dad couldn’t be mad at that. He grabbed you. We’re still fine.”

  “Dad told us to stay out of it. Now he knows our names. Viviana is going to kills us if she finds out we did this.”

  So, this is Viviana’s family. They could not have been more different than Grant’s bothers. I kind of like them. “Why a
re you here? Is Viviana okay?” I knew I hurt her, but enough that she went home? That thought made him sick.

  “Maybe she was right not to tell him. Listen to him. Does he sound like someone you’d want to share custody of a child with?” Connor asked.

  Dylan grabbed his brother’s arm and yanked him away for a private conference a few feet away on the sidewalk. Connor’s question ricocheted through Grant.

  Without hesitation Grant joined their think tank. No. She can’t be pregnant. Then he remembered how they hadn’t used protection the first time. “Is Viviana pregnant?”

  “We are so screwed,” Connor said, shaking his head.

  Dylan turned and went nose to nose with Grant. “I don’t care who you are or what you think you could do. If you mess with Viviana again, we have large machinery and huge fields. That’s the kind of erasing that would meet you in Cairo.”

  “Is she pregnant?” Grant repeated his question in a harsher voice.

  “We might as well tell him. He knows now,” Connor said.

  Dylan nodded. “Okay. I’ll give him his answer.” With no warning, he pulled back and nailed Grant, fist to his jaw, with enough force that Grant stumbled back a few steps. “Now we go home,” Dylan said as he turned away.

  Before Connor followed suit he said, “You took advantage of one of the sweetest, kindest women in the world. Maybe you’re not scared of us now, but try to see her again and you will be.”

  Grant stood on the sidewalk for a moment, rubbing his bruised jaw as the ramifications of what he’d just learned sunk in. Viviana is pregnant with my child. Pregnant.

  I’m going to be a father.

  Holy, shit. I’m going to be a father.

  Marc Stone appeared beside him. “You okay?”

  Grant turned slowly to face him and mocked, “I’m your silent shadow. If you see me, I’m not doing my job right, but I’m always there. Where the fuck were you a second ago?”

  Looking unfazed by the question, Marc shrugged and said, “For international criminals, Mafia, hired hitmen—I’ve got your back. You knock up someone’s little sister and her family comes for you—you take that shit like a man.”

  Grant laughed even though there was not too much he found funny about the situation. “I’m going to be a father.”

  “It does look that way.”

  His phone beeped with incoming messages from his family asking him not to be late to dinner. He’d never been late . . . ever, so their texts were more about their own level of anxiety than actual reminders. I just have to get through tonight then I’ll call Viviana.

  Or go see her.

  He made a pained face. That should be interesting. He turned to Marc and took a stab at a joke. “This is all your fault, you know. You’re the one who told me I needed to get out there in the world and learn how regular people behaved.”

  Marc smiled and shook his head. “You certainly did that. Not that you asked my opinion, but yes, I do think they hate you.”

  “That’s going to prove awkward because I want to be with Viviana. I was waiting for the situation with my family to settle before I sought her out again, and this hasn’t changed how I feel. In fact, it gave me more of a reason to try again with her.”

  Marc groaned. “You’re not going to say it like that to her, are you?”

  Grant paused because he didn’t yet have a better plan. “Of course not.”

  “Don’t they teach you anything about women in billionaire school?”

  “Not women like Viviana. I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s smart, she’s beautiful. She’s strong. She doesn’t care about my money. I couldn’t have chosen a better mother for my child.”

  “Your challenge will be convincing her this isn’t all about the baby.”

  “It’s not. I was already planning to convince her to give me a second chance.”

  “Yeah. Crash course on regular women 101: she’s not going to believe that.”

  Grant rubbed his sore jaw again. “You don’t know me very well if you think I’m intimidated by a challenge. Tell me something is impossible, and I will prove you wrong every time. You should understand that. As Andrew would say: Adapt. Improvise. Overcome. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  “I have to give you props for confidence.”

  “I do have one question, though.”

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  “Do you think I need to buy plaid shirts?” He shuddered at the thought.

  A few hours later, Grant, along with his siblings and their significant others, stood in the living room of his parents’ home waiting for their mother’s reaction to the news that her sister was responsible for Kent’s death. The room remained painfully silent as Sophie took hold of her husband’s hand while sinking into a chair, her face losing all color as she did.

  “How certain are you that this is true?” she asked.

  Grant went to her side and sank to his haunches so his face was level with hers. “All we have is Stiles’s word, but it seems to be supported by your sister’s journal.”

  His mother covered her eyes with shaking hands. “I tried to reconcile with Patrice so many times, but she was so angry. Always so angry. I told myself if I kept including her, one day I would reach her. I couldn’t give up hope on her. That’s why I called her from Aruba to tell her I was going into labor early. I gave her all the information about where we were. And she took my baby.” Tears filled her eyes. “This is my fault.”

  Dale sunk to his knees and took her hands in his. “No. Your sister was a sick, sick woman, but we don’t have proof that she went this far.”

  With tears running freely down her cheeks, she said, “You don’t have to protect me anymore, Dale. My sister was jealous when I first told her I was expecting twins and that one was a little girl. You warned me to cut Patrice out of my life. You said she was getting worse rather than better, but I didn’t listen. I loved her; we were close as children. All I wanted was to have that back. I should have protected our children from her. I should have protected you. She ended your career by spreading those rumors, and I was so afraid of losing her I asked you not to retaliate. How do you not hate me?” She looked around at her children. “How do you all not hate me?”

  Asher placed a hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “How could we? You’re the one who showed us how to love. It’s not always easy, and it involves a lot of forgiveness, but you showed us how to be a family.” He turned to his wife who came over to hold his other hand. “No matter what your sister did, she didn’t break us.”

  Lance walked over hand in hand with Willa. “Look around, Mom. We’re all here because we love you, and there is nothing anyone could ever do that would change that.”

  Ian stepped closer and stood beside his father. “You, too, Dad. None of us knew the reason you made the choices you did, and we judged you harshly for it, but this is our chance to move forward with open eyes.”

  Their dad nodded, tears filling his eyes. “All we can do is make loving decisions and hope they’re right. Only time reveals which were mistakes, but you can live with them if you have good in your heart. I was wrong so many times, but I love all of you more than you’ll ever know.”

  “We know, Dad,” Grant said kindly.

  In the silence that followed, Grant realized Andrew and Helene were hanging back. He met Andrew’s gaze across the room. “We are not the sum of what has been done to us, nor should we carry the guilt of the wrong others have done. We have our answers now. It’s time to move on and heal.”

  Andrew hugged Helene and nodded. As much as Grant wanted this meeting to be over, he wanted Andrew to get what he needed from it. Patrice would not take a second brother from him.

  “No,” Sophie said in a soft voice before repeating the word with more force. “No. I can’t move on yet. I know Kent isn’t dead.”

  Grant’s heart broke for his mother. It would take time for her to fully absorb what she’d heard that day. “He is dead, Mom. We buried him, remember? Now we’
ve learned how he died.”

  His mother surged to her feet, grabbed Grant’s forearm, and looked around to each member of her family as she spoke. “No one believed me when I said I’d held Kent. I thought I’d gone crazy because I knew I had held him. I knew it. Just like I know he’s alive now. He’s out there somewhere. We have to find him.”

  Asher said, “Tell us what you need us to do, Mom, and we’ll do it. You deserve to have answers.”

  Shaking his head, Ian said, “There are no more answers to find. We know where Kent is.”

  Sophie’s grip on Grant’s arm tightened. “Grant, you believe me, don’t you? Kent is alive.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” Grant said gently.

  With her husband in tow, Kenzi stepped forward and said, “I’ve always known Kent is out there. I would know if he’s dead. He’s not.”

  Sophie rushed over to Kenzi and wrapped her arms around her. “What we feel can’t be wrong. As his twin, you have a closer bond to him than anyone else. If you believe me, I know I’m right. A mother knows when her child is alive.” She raised her chin. “We need to exhume the body we buried. It’s not Kent.”

  Ian jumped on that. “There’s no way to do that quietly. If that gets in the news—”

  A rabbit hole that could only lead to pain opened before Grant. He’d thought the truth would bring his mother comfort, but it hadn’t. However much he wanted to deny it, Ian’s instincts were correct. Once his family started on this path the news would run with it.

  Not only would their family tragedy once again become public interest, but wherever it led would be, too. There would be no way to protect Helene from the possible backlash. And, for what? To discover an even more revolting truth? Patrice had hired someone to kill either Kenzi or Kent. There was no happy ending to discover. “It won’t, because we’re not exhuming anyone.”

  Dale moved to stand beside his wife. “That’s not your decision to make.”

  “That baby is not Kent,” Sophie said. “And I’ll prove it. Help me do that, Grant.”

  Grant didn’t make snap decisions. He looked around the room at his married and engaged siblings. He weighed the potential collateral damage and shook his head. He didn’t want to chase more ghosts. He wanted to close this chapter of his life and start a new one with Viviana. After everything his family had been through, didn’t they all deserve to finally be happy? “No. Every time we dig into this, we find something worse. I won’t give Patrice the power to hurt us anymore. I’m done.”