Ceinlys drew back slightly. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“I thought…I mean, don’t you feel the same way about it?” Sophia bit her lower lip, wondering if she’d misjudged the situation.
“About what, precisely?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any—“
“You will tell me exactly what you’re talking about, and you will tell me now.”
Now I’ve done it. “I heard Dane and Salazar arguing, and your husband said that Dane ruined everything the moment he was conceived.”
Ceinlys’s mouth parted, the blood draining from her face. Not even the perfectly applied layers of makeup could hide the sudden pallor. “I…I had no idea. I thought it was some exaggerated anger on Dane’s part.” Ceinlys clutched her purse, her knuckles white. “I don’t know why Salazar would think that or even say that to Dane. We’d been having issues even before I became pregnant for the first time. It had nothing to do with him. Nothing! I—”
Just then, Salazar arrived. He was dapper in his crisp button down shirt and dark slacks. His steps were light and springy as though he was dancing to a tune only he could hear.
Ceinlys rose to her feet. “Excuse me. I need to speak to my husband.”
“I’m sorry I said anything. I shouldn’t have,” Sophia said.
“It’s something I needed to know. I wish I’d known earlier.” She gave Sophia a strained smile. “Thank you.”
Her back stiff, she walked toward her husband.
* * *
Ceinlys was shaking inside. She’d had no idea Salazar had treated Dane with such cruelty. If she’d known… If she’d known, would it have made any difference?
Even with all the history between them, she couldn’t deny Salazar could still make her heart flutter. Maybe it was because he could be dashing and romantic when he made the effort. Except those occasions had become increasingly rare as the years went by.
When he’d taken Sophia in, Ceinlys had assumed that he was having an affair with the girl. But it was apparent now that that wasn’t the case. He genuinely wanted to help her, and that reminded Ceinlys of the man she’d fallen in love with. Still, what Sophia had revealed wasn’t something Ceinlys could ignore. He had no right to blame Dane for their failures.
“Salazar. I doubted you’d come.”
“Well, her real father’s gone, and”—he shrugged and glanced away—“I’m the closest thing she has.”
A knot in her heart tightened. Here was the good and kind Salazar again. “Can we talk for a moment?” A couple of nurses hurried by. “In private?”
“Yes. I was hoping to talk to you… Well, to you through your lawyer.” His voice was as light as his step, but his eyes betrayed nothing. “But we can talk without the overpriced middlemen if you want.”
She nodded and led the way.
The wing for Vanessa was private, with no other patients on the floor. The kind of comfort and luxury only people like the Sterlings could buy. When Ceinlys had had her children she’d had a private wing to herself, not because Salazar had cared, but because that was what Shirley had decided her grandchildren deserved.
At the end of the hall was an empty room, with a neatly made bed and some plastic flowers. Ceinlys walked inside, Salazar following closely.
She spun around to face him. “Is it true that you blamed Dane for our failing marriage?”
He tilted his head. “Who told you that?
“I have my sources.”
He shrugged. “I never blamed Dane for the fact that our marriage failed. I blamed him for being born, and preventing me from leaving.”
Semantics. “Why didn’t you leave?
“I was planning to. But then you got pregnant. I couldn’t leave the woman who just announced she was carrying my first child. So I stayed. I told my lawyers that it wouldn’t be necessary to file for divorce.”
Ceinlys pressed her shaking lips together. But the tremors didn’t ease. They spread through her body until her knees were almost knocking against each other. She clasped her hands tightly. “You should’ve left me back then. We could have saved ourselves decades of pain.”
“I agree. I should’ve known better, which is why I said I wanted to talk to you.”
“So you’re agreeing to the terms?”
Salazar shoved his hands into his pockets. “No. Your terms are unacceptable.” He raised a hand, stopping her from speaking. “You’re demanding fifty million. You can do better than that. You’ve given me four children, and I’ve given them each fifty million dollars. Surely you’re worth more than that.” He caressed her cheek, the touch feather soft. “The settlement is two hundred million dollars. Fifty per child.”