Ana's POV
Ridley hauled me back to the villa—the same place where we'd spent six years as husband and wife. I hadn't set foot here since filing for divorce.
He yanked me through the main entrance, his grip unforgiving.
Hughes was lounging in the living room. His eyes sparked when he saw us walk in together, but that brief flicker of hope quickly soured into contempt as his gaze landed on me. "Weren't you hellbent on divorcing Dad? What's with the grand return?"
Ridley's fingers tightened around my wrist, sending sharp pain shooting up my arm.
I couldn't wrench free from his hold. The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "Don't you want me gone so Aileen can step into the mother role?"
Something—rage, maybe hurt—flashed across Hughes's face. He puffed up like an angry cat. "Damn right. You're not mother material anyway. Nobody gives a crap if you're back." He spun on his heel and bolted upstairs.
