Baby for the Billionaire(44)

Cesare clenched and unclenched his hands. “I want to see his face. He was my friend, and now he’s a traitor.”

“You’re getting upset, and that’s not good for you. Matt and I will go see Porter. Let Nick take you home.”

“No,” Nick growled. “I’m going to see Porter.” He had more than a vested interest in all this.

Alex nodded. “Then Matt can take Dad home.”

Cesare complained but he was shaken and obviously realized it was best he not be there to confront his now ex-friend. He left with Matt, and Nick and Alex took off for the Blakes’ house.

Sally turned white when she opened the door to them. It was evident she knew why they were here.

Porter was eating dinner, and he went white, too, as Nick and Alex strode into the dining room.

Alex spoke first. “Porter, I’ve come to tell you that we’re filing charges for fraud against you.”

Sally gave a wailing cry behind them, but they ignored her.

The older man’s face screwed up. “So Sasha told, did she? I should have known not to trust that daughter of mine. She finds out a couple of days ago and threatens to blow the whistle unless I—”

Nick stiffened. “What did you say?”

Porter made a harsh sound. “I said my daughter was going to blow the whistle on her old man. Can you believe it?”

Nick looked at Porter. “Yes, I can.” Then he looked at Alex, who nodded in understanding.

“Take my car,” his brother said, tossing the keys at him. “I’ve got a lot more to say to Mr. Blake.”

Somehow Sasha managed to find some semblance of control by the time Leo dropped her off at home. She’d never been more grateful for the dark glass panel between them as she huddled in the corner of the back seat, unable to stop the tears from flowing.

Iris took one look at her face and was full of concern. “Mrs. Valente, is there something wrong?”

Sasha almost laughed out loud. Everything was wrong. And nothing could make it right.

Not ever.

“Are you ill? Would you like me to call a doctor?”

Sasha headed for the stairs. “I’d just like to be alone, Iris.”

The housekeeper was clearly reluctant to accept that, but inclined her head. “If you wish, Mrs. Valente.”

“I do.”

Sasha made her way to the bedroom, sick with anguish. She threw some water on her face, hoping the coldness would take away her inner pain, but knowing it was a losing battle. She was burning up inside, her despair like a flame inside her, growing higher and more intense. An iceberg could not put it out.

She knew what she had to do. Nick would no longer want her in his house or in his life and she wouldn’t wait around for him to kick her out. He would be glad to see her gone. No doubt he would even get someone else in to oversee the redecorating.

Her throat tightening, she began to throw some of her things in a suitcase. She would get the rest later. Or better still, leave them for charity. She wouldn’t want any reminders of her marriage.

Just then there was a tap at the door and she swallowed a moan. “Come in.”

The housekeeper’s eyes widened when she saw the suitcase on the bed. “Um … your mother’s on the phone, Mrs. Valente.”

Sasha’s nerves tensed. “I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, Iris.”

“She says it’s urgent.”

Sasha winced, then realized it was best to take the call. She felt too raw to give her mother the support she needed right now, but once she pulled herself together, she’d manage it in the future.

Somehow.

She picked up the phone. “Mum, I—”

“Sasha, how could you! You said you would give your father until Friday and now you’ve gone and told the Valentes. You’ve betrayed your own family.”

She then went into a tirade about Porter going to jail and that her daughter had sent him there, and at that moment Sasha finally understood something. No matter what her father did, her mother would always make excuses for him.

And her daughter would come a poor second.

Sasha quietly hung up. Her mother was welcome to do what she wanted with her life, but she wasn’t about to help her do that any longer.

It was over.

Just like her marriage to Nick.

There was only one place where she’d found a measure of peace before. She would go back to London. There was nothing for her here.