The Heartbreaker (Spade Hotel #4)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Ridge

“ I don’t want to let you go.”

Those were the words I said to my father as I held his hand while he lay in bed.

During the moments when neither of us said anything, the quietness of the room taking hold of me, I memorized every inch of him. His skin was so pale, almost gray, compared to the constant tan he’d rocked for as long as I could remember. His eyes were hollow. His grip was weak as his thumb clasped the back of my hand.

Ray Cole was one hell of a fighter. He’d held on longer than we’d anticipated, but cancer ended up being stronger than his will and the medicines combined. Rather than going into the hospital, he opted to stay home under hospice care. A hospital bed had been moved into his bedroom, where he now spent all his time, and he had around-the-clock care until he took his last breath.

We’d been told that would be within the next few hours.

My siblings and I were each spending some alone time with him. Rowan, my sister, had gone first. Rhett, my oldest brother, had gone second. My father had asked me to come in last, and I now sat on the side of his bed, grasping his fingers, feeling the iciness coming off his palm.

I didn’t know what else to say.

As the emotion churned inside my chest, Dad’s breathing came out in shallow pants.

My time was running out, and, fuck, that hurt.

Because this moment, these last few minutes, was a memory I’d replay forever.

“You’re not letting go, son. I’m letting go.” He cleared his throat. “It’s my time.” He spoke slowly, and I could tell how much energy it took for him to form each syllable.

My poor father.

Always the pillar of strength for our family—a role that was now mine. Rhett had been through enough; he would never willingly want to shoulder that burden. Rowan was a daddy’s girl, hanging on by a thread, the tears worsening since she’d had her daughter, Rayner. Rowan wanted Dad in her daughter’s life. She wanted trips to Disney and grandfather-and-granddaughter dates and holidays with all of us together.

I understood.

I wanted that as well for my daughter, Daisy.

But Daisy was lucky enough to have spent the six years of her life with him, where Rayner was still a baby and far too young to remember any of this.

“Dad …” My face fell forward, the agony tearing through my chest.

There were so many kinds of pain.

I would take physical over the emotional heaviness of this any day.

“Son, I want you to promise me something.” His hand was now on the top of my head.

“Anything.”

“I want you to promise that you’re going to love big. Love hard. Love unapologetically. Because being in love is the greatest blessing in this world.”

Out of all the things he could have said, that was where he’d gone. A part of my life I’d given no time or attention to since things had ended with my daughter’s mother.

As my head lifted, his hand lowered to my cheek, a place he’d held when I was a kid, and then it went to my chin.

“Don’t be alone like me,” he continued.

“You’re not alone, Dad.” I squeezed his hand, not wanting that thought to even enter his brain. Not now, not at the point where he was at. “You have us?—”

“I’m alone.” He attempted to clear his throat again. This time, he choked, the air wheezing through his lips until he stopped coughing. Once he was settled, he added, “I can tell you it would be a different kind of feeling from the one I have now if the love of my life were holding my other hand.” As his hand left my face, it hit the mattress and stayed disconnected, balled up, as though he were reminding himself that only he could hold those fingers. “Ridge, I have so many regrets when it comes to love. Don’t do love that way. Live your life with it, don’t regret that you don’t have it.”

Growing up, when my parents had still been married, I couldn’t recall a single time when they enjoyed being in each other’s presence. The hate was evident—I could sense it, even at an early age. The tipping point was when my mother caught him cheating. That was when the paperwork was filed to officially end things, and she kicked him out.

The reality was that my parents just didn’t love each other. I wasn’t sure if they ever did. They’d stayed together because of us kids when they should have divorced long before the cheating started.

Was it a detriment that I hadn’t witnessed love in my parents’ houses? That I had a promiscuous father?

Maybe.

But neither of those points was the reason I was single.

When Jana, Daisy’s mother, and I had broken up, I’d made the choice not to have women come in and out of my daughter’s life. Rather than focus on anything serious, I had fun. I worked my ass off. I gave every bit of my attention to my daughter.

Love wasn’t a priority.

And as I looked at the deep grooves in my father’s face that I knew weren’t from smiling and the quietness in the bedroom and the vacant spot on the other side of his bed, I realized he hadn’t made it a priority either.

Since his divorce, approximately twenty-five years ago, he never lived with anyone.

He never introduced his kids to anyone.

He never spoke to us about anyone.

But we still knew that women came and went, just like the hospice nurses who covered each of the twelve-hour shifts at his home.

I searched for something to say that would alleviate the loneliness he was feeling, and before I could voice anything, he whispered, “Promise me, Ridge. Promise me that you won’t end up like me.”

A statement I couldn’t wrap my head around.

My father had an incredible life. He traveled the world. He’d built one of the most successful hospitality brands. The only one that was larger—the Spade Hotels—we had now merged with. He had three children, who had taken over the reins of his business, and he had more money than he could ever spend in ten lifetimes.

Ending up like him wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

“Ridge”—he shook my hand—“promise me.”

I nodded. “All right, Dad. I promise.”

A contentment passed through his glossy eyes. “I need you to be the leader of this family. Make sure Cooper never hurts your sister, and you treat Rayner like she’s your own.”

There was a knot in the back of my throat. One that was building larger, denser as the seconds passed.

“Done.”

“And your brother. I need you to care for him. That boy”—he stopped to take a breath, the wind he inhaled too much for his throat—“has been lost and doesn’t want to be found. Find him, Ridge. Help him.”

His last requests hit my chest in a way where it felt impossible to speak.

I didn’t want my father to see emotion as the last look on my face.

I wanted him to know I could handle the position he’d just given to me.

So, I swallowed the tears threatening to pool and the trembling inside my body and the aching not just in my chest, but in every joint and muscle.

“I will,” I said softly. Since that didn’t feel like enough, I said, “I promise.”

He gave a slight nod and brushed his thumb past the peaks of my knuckles.

A movement that I knew, deep in my fucking heart, would be his last.

“You’ve always made me proud, my son.” His cough thickened. “I love you, and I love Daisy.”