CHAPTER 344: FINAL CALL (2)

Nick’s POV

The flight back to the city was short, but long enough for Oliver to act like a kid on a field trip. He spent the entire thirty-minute helicopter ride grinning and snapping pictures like he’d never seen clouds before. I didn’t even bother teasing him—his excitement was too genuine to ruin.

We landed, got in the car, and headed straight to the detention center. No pit stops, no breaks. I just wanted this over with.

When we arrived, the desk officer looked up from his computer. "He still has a visitor. Please wait here. We’ll call you once she’s out."

"She?" I muttered under my breath.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Probably Violet or Sarah."

I nodded. "Makes sense." However, I couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped me. I hadn’t seen either of them since Reagan’s arrest, and I could only imagine the kind of storm they’d been brewing since then.

Fifteen minutes later, another officer finally appeared and motioned for us to follow. As we walked down the corridor toward the visitation room, I spotted Violet and Reagan’s lawyer coming from the opposite direction.

Perfect. Just my luck. Here comes the storm.

I braced myself. Violet could throw words sharper than knives, and when those didn’t land, she wasn’t above using her hands.

But instead of a slap, she froze when she saw me. Her face paled, her voice trembling as she spoke.

"N-Nicholas... h-how’s Georgia?"

Her tone caught me off guard. There was no venom. Just worry.

"She’s fine," I replied cautiously. "Still recovering."

"I-I heard she lost her memories. How... how is she coping?"

I blinked at her. Is this really happening? The Violet I knew wouldn’t have asked; she would’ve cause a scene and wished me bad luck. My patience was thin, though. "She’s coping surprisingly well," I said curtly. "Look, Violet, I’m really busy. I should be at work, but I came here to see Reagan. So if you’ll excuse me—"

Her hand shot out, gripping my arm. I stopped and looked down at her, my brows furrowing automatically. She flinched and let go right away, but I saw the tremor in her fingers.

"I... I actually wanted to talk to you. I just need a few minutes," she said softly. "Please. I promise I won’t take long."

I glanced at Oliver, who gave me that knowing look, the kind that said ’Hear her out, Nick.’

"I’ll go ahead and see Reagan first," he said, before leaving us alone in the hallway.

Violet motioned for her lawyer to go too, and he quickly disappeared around the corner, leaving just the two of us standing there in that lifeless, echoing corridor.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The sound of muffled voices and clinking metal filled the silence.

She finally looked up at me with glassy eyes, and for the first time in years, I didn’t see anger there. I saw guilt. Regret. Maybe even shame.

"Nicholas... I’m here as a mother," Violet began, her voice trembling. "Not as the evil stepmother you grew up hating."

Before I could even process her words, she did something I never ever expected.

She dropped to her knees.

Right there in the middle of the hallway, the same woman who once looked down on me like I was nothing but a mistake was kneeling before me with tears streaming down her face and hands shaking uncontrollably.

I froze. Not out of pride or cruelty. Just pure shock. My brain couldn’t seem to catch up with what my eyes were seeing.

"I’m begging you," she said, voice cracking as she looked up at me. "Please, talk to the prosecutor. Help reduce Reagan’s sentence. I know what you must be thinking, but I swear, Nicholas, I was wrong. We both were."

Her sobs echoed softly against the walls. Every word came out heavy, like it was scraping against her throat.

"I was terrified," she continued. "As a mother, I thought I was protecting my son. I didn’t think of you. I only saw Reagan’s life falling apart, and I panicked. I was selfish. I didn’t even stop to see your pain... just because Oliver proved you innocent that time, didn’t mean I was right to treat you like that."

She clasped her trembling hands together. "But please... help him. Help my son. I’m not asking for forgiveness, not for me, not for Reagan. Just... help him once. If you need someone to blame, if you need to unleash your anger on someone, take it out on me. I can handle it. I deserve it."

Her voice cracked again, and then her words broke me.

"I’ll take his place if I have to. Please, Nicholas. I’ll give my life if that’s what it takes."

She looked up, desperation written all over her face.

"Reagan has been punishing himself every day since he found out the truth, that he isn’t Benjamin’s son... that his real father was one of the men who..." She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Her lips trembled, and fresh tears fell, "...who raped me."

"He blames himself for ruining my life," she whispered. "He told me once that I should’ve aborted him, that maybe then I wouldn’t have had to live trapped in that loveless marriage. He hates himself for existing, Nicholas. And now, this, it’s breaking what little strength he has left. He was finally trying to start over, and now he’s losing everything again."

Her shoulders shook violently as she cried. "Please, Nicholas. Don’t let me lose my son. I know he’s done terrible things, but he’s still my child. I don’t care who his real father was; he’s mine. And I would die for him. Please..."

Her wails filled the hallway, drawing glances from the officers nearby. For a moment, I didn’t care who was watching.

Because something inside me cracked.

If this had happened years ago, I would’ve walked away without looking back. I would’ve let her cry, thinking it was what she deserved. But standing there now, hearing her voice quake, seeing the same kind of grief I once carried, I felt something I never thought I would.

I felt her pain.

*******

Thank you for the Golden Tickets!

KATHLEEN_COLL

Noni_Byz