Anything for more time with Whitney when she’s smiling and laughing and happy. It’s everything I wanted to give her.

The flight back to The Gables seems much too short, and the familiar cliffs are in sight when my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I pull it out to read the text.

McKinley: Mom knows about the Rango estate. She’s on her way to the resort.

“Fuck.”

Everyone in the helicopter turns to look at me, and I realize I spoke into the headset.

“What’s wrong?” Whitney’s posture stiffens, which pisses me off even more because reality is the last thing I wanted to intrude on our evening.

And now hell is about to be unleashed because my mother has learned that Ricky Rango’s estate is claiming he was my father’s son.

Thank God there’s no way she could know that he might be my father’s only legitimate son . . . I lock that thought away because there’s no way in hell I’m going to share the possibility.

“My mother found out about the paternity claim. We’ve been keeping it from her.”

“Shit,” Cricket whispers. “Only Ricky Rango could fuck things up this effectively from the grave. That takes some serious skill. If he were still alive, I’d kill him myself.”

Cricket isn’t the only one with that thought.

Whitney’s hand squeezes mine, her eyes full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I wish this wasn’t happening.”

“It’s not your fault. You literally had nothing to do with this at all. My father got my family into this mess.”

As soon as I mention my father, she looks away, and I wish I hadn’t. Because he fucked up all our lives.

We’re all silent as the chopper finally touches down on the rooftop helipad at the resort. I thank the pilot before climbing out and helping Whitney. Hunter and Cricket follow us down the stairs that will take us back to the VIP floor.

As soon as I open the door to exit the stairwell, my mother spots us and marches toward me, a militant glint in her eye.

“We’re gonna go,” Hunter says. “Thank you, man.”

I give him a nod. “Sorry about this.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He and Cricket turn and walk down the hall toward my mother. But she doesn’t spare them a glance as she stalks toward me, fire and fury in her every step.

She points her finger at Whitney. “You put him up to this, you little whore, didn’t you?”

I pull Whitney against my side, wanting to protect her from my mother’s rage. “She didn’t know anything about it.”

My mother’s gaze cuts to mine. “She’s a liar! They’re all liars! Every single one of those Gable whores.”

“Mother—” I attempt to interrupt, but she’s on a roll.

“Why else would she have married that Rango boy? You don’t think I see how this all went down? She knew his dirty secret, and she couldn’t get the Riscoff money through you, so she went after the next best thing. She knew!”