He Chose Another Heir Now He Wants Me Back Chapter 22
There was no signature.
But I knew who it was.
Eighteen years ago, he had pulled me out of a river. Twelve years ago, he had disappeared without a trace.
“It’s Ray Corrigan,” I said.
Dante tossed the unlit cigarette into the trash.
“Are you going?”
“Yes. But first, I need to confirm my mother’s surgery schedule.”
He nodded and went to the end of the hall to make a call.
He asked only about the specialists’ arrival time, the donor assessment, and the hospital’s security arrangements.
Watching his back, I remembered my third year in Paris, when he had knocked on my apartment door in the middle of the night and handed me fever medicine and a plane ticket to Venice.
“Go stay somewhere else for a few days,” he had said. “Someone traced the company’s books.”