The Billionaire’s Secret Wife(64)
She hated it when Dane was right, if for no other reason than that it only made him more cynical. “I’m pretty sure she’s not expecting me to wire her money right this minute.”
Dane snorted.
“I’m having her investigated,” Justin said. “So don’t worry.”
“Well, it’s nice that somebody’s thinking things through. No matter what, I still wouldn’t give her a penny. If you do, you’re going to be inundated with people giving you the same sob story,” Dane said.
“I doubt that,” Mark said.
Dane’s lip curled. “Do you think Mom’s only had one lover? If they think there’s money to be had, they’ll all come out of the woodwork with their hands open. Mark my words, Vanessa. You’re going to draw a big fat target on your back if you’re not careful.”
“Fine. I’ll take that into consideration.” It was better to give in than to argue endlessly with Dane. He saw the bad in everyone.
There was a general silence that stretched. Finally, Vanessa couldn’t take it any longer. “Is…that all any of you have to say?”
“Did you expect something else?” Dane asked.
Hilary spoke up. “I think she means the thing about how she’s not Salazar’s daughter.”
“What’s there to say?” Iain shrugged. “Did you think we might not consider you our sister because of that?”
“You’re still our sister.” Dane’s tone was flat as though he was reciting an encyclopedia entry. “Same mother.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Could you be any less sensitive?” He turned to Vanessa. “You’re our sister. Nothing’s changed. The years we spent growing up together didn’t vanish because you learned that you’re not Dad’s daughter.” Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Is this why you wanted to talk here? You were worried about our reaction?”
Vanessa nodded. “I didn’t take the news very well when I found out.”
“Aw, jeez.”
“It’s pretty shocking news,” Jane said. “But I don’t think people are going to love you any less for who your father is. Or isn’t. You had no control over that.”
Tears sprang to Vanessa’s eyes. Sniffling, she wiped them away impatiently. It was so silly for her to cry when there was nothing but relief in her heart. It had to be the pregnancy hormones.
“You shouldn’t have stressed about it. It’s bad for you and your baby,” Hilary said. “Happy thoughts. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Vanessa nodded, praying Hilary was right.
* * *
Hilary and Jane decided to stay with Vanessa, so Justin asked Dane for a ride to the Pryce mansion to pick up her car. The butler hadn’t returned it yet, and he didn’t feel like waiting any longer.
As the Lamborghini made its way through the traffic at exactly the speed limit, Justin said, “Don’t ever try to manipulate Vanessa again.”
A beat, then Dane said, “What’s this about?”
“Her drive to make partner.”
Dane laughed, the sound dry. “And she wonders why lawyers have shitty reputations. Did she tell you what she was originally planning to do?”
Justin tilted his head.
“Child advocate. Rewriting happy endings for kids with fucked up family lives…like that would retroactively change her childhood. But going into that field wasn’t going to work.”
“Why not?”
“Grandmother would’ve staged a heart attack…and probably blamed Mom for it. Mom would’ve been mortified. Dad probably would’ve found another woman to bang so he could pretend everything was fine. And Vanessa would’ve realized soon enough nothing can change the past.
“She’s better off working for the bloodsuckers. They don’t give you false hope or pretend to be something that they’re not. But now that she’s your wife, I’ll let you deal with her.” Dane stopped the car in front of the mansion.
Justin climbed out, and Dane drove away. Was he right about her family’s potential reaction? Given how close she was to her mother, the whole mess would’ve been devastating for her.
It was strange to think Dane had actually done her a favor by challenging her—in his own way—to make partner. He wasn’t the nurturing, caring type.
Shaking his head, Justin looked at the mansion. It was brightly lit, illuminating a garden full of animal-shaped shrubs and a cheery water fountain. But what dark shadows lurked inside.
When Justin rang, it was a middle-aged housekeeper who answered. She was short, with a comfortably rounded face. A polite smile didn’t do anything to alleviate her homeliness, something Ceinlys had undoubtedly taken into consideration. It was one thing for her husband to have mistresses in other cities, something else to have one under the same roof.