Baby for the Billionaire(28)

Nick let out a deep sigh but didn’t turn around. “No, I wouldn’t have wanted that.”

Seconds passed without anyone speaking as if in deference to the dead.

“They’re arranging the funeral for Tuesday in Melbourne,” Cesare finally said.

“I won’t be going.”

Cesare’s mouth clamped in a thin line. “She was your mother, son.”

“Really?” Nick turned around to face them, the lines of his face rigid.

“I know how you feel, but the world is made up of different people. We have to accept that.”

“You accept it.” Nick tilted his head. “Actually, you accepted that years ago, didn’t you?”

Cesare stiffened. “Your mother wasn’t the woman I thought she was when I married her, I know. But I did learn to accept that’s how she was.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t be so generous.”

Cesare’s gaze held his son’s. “The best thing that came out of our marriage was you, Nick.”

Sasha’s throat thickened.

A muscle ticked in Nick’s cheek. “Emotional blackmail won’t work this time, Dad. I won’t go to the funeral. I don’t owe her anything.”

Cesare was having none of that. He straightened his shoulders. “Julieann was a Valente, if even for a short while. She should have someone from the Valente family go to the funeral.”

“You go then.”

Cesare glanced at Isabel then back. “I can’t. I would if I could, but—”

“His doctor won’t let him go,” Isabel said. “He’s worried it will be too much for your father.”

Cesare made a dismissive gesture. “The doctor’s just being too cautious. He thinks you’ll sue him if I die.”

Isabel tutted. “Now, you know that’s not true, Cesare.” She looked at Nick. “For what it’s worth I don’t think you should be forced to go either.”

“Thanks for your support, Izzie,” Cesare muttered.

She looked at her husband. “I don’t care what you say. I don’t think anyone should have to go if they don’t want to, Cesare.”

For some reason, Sasha thought of her own father and how she’d feel if he’d walked out on them years ago. Would she have been forgiving of him?

Probably not.

Of course, it may have turned out better if her father had left them. Her mother may have had a chance at a decent life.

“I’m not going, Dad.”

Cesare got to his feet, his mouth firming with purpose. “Then it’s up to me.” He shot Isabel a look. “And no more about it from you, my darling wife. I—” Suddenly he turned pale.

“Dad?” Nick raced over while Isabel gasped, then took some tablets out of Cesare’s jacket pocket.

“Here, darling. Put this under your tongue.”

A short while later Cesare started to get his color back and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. If the older man had been hoping for effect, he couldn’t have chosen a better moment.

Nick stood looking down at his father, his eyes unreadable. “Okay, Dad. You get your wish. I’ll go to the funeral.”

Cesare looked relieved. “Thank you, figlio mio. This means a lot to me.”

“I’ll go with him,” Sasha said, wanting them to know she’d be there for Nick.

Nick spun toward her. “No.”

“But—”

“No.” Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room.

Sasha’s heart sank, but she wasn’t about to give up.

“Go with him, honey,” Isabel said. “He needs you.”

Sasha nodded. He needed someone, but she wasn’t sure it was her. “I intend to, Isabel. Don’t worry.”

After that, the older couple left and Sasha saw them off. For all that she understood why Cesare wanted a Valente at the funeral, like Isabel, she did think it unfair to ask Nick to go. Did they really need someone to represent the family? Wasn’t Cesare showing the woman more compassion than she’d shown him and their son?

But it wasn’t her place to say anything.

She knocked on the study door and went in.

“Nick—”

“No, Sasha.”

“But—”

“I’m going alone.”

She stopped in the middle of the room and glared at him across the desk. “Would you let me finish a sentence or are you taking a page from my father’s book now?”