The Baby the Billionaire Demands

Had she lied when she told him she loved him?

I love you. He heard the echo of her tender whisper. Only you. And I’ll love you forever.

He felt sick, remembering. If she loved him, how could she have immediately betrayed him?

Had she been so crushed by Rodrigo’s rejection of her love that she’d immediately jumped into the arms of another man? And she’d somehow invited Sergei Morozov to the party beforehand?

But that didn’t make sense. He remembered Lola’s shock when she’d first seen the magnificent Spanish-style mansion. She hadn’t known about the party.

Then who?

Marnie wanted you for herself. So she’s systematically rid herself of any rival who crossed her path.

No. He shook his head angrily. Sweet, loyal Marnie, who’d devoted nearly fifteen years to his service? No, impossible. He wasn’t going to listen to Lola’s excuses or impossible story.

Perhaps Morozov had been stalking Lola all this time. Perhaps the investigator had been wrong, and the two of them had continued to secretly be in contact after her marriage. And tonight, when her pride was wounded, she’d immediately phoned the other man, telling him she wanted him—

It didn’t matter. Going inside the beach house, Rodrigo slammed the door behind him. He would send for his lawyers at once. But first, he had to see his son. Right now. He had to feel like there was still one thing on earth he could depend on. One person he could love, who loved him back.

But the house was dark and empty. Feeling cold, Rodrigo walked through it, calling the housekeeper’s name. But the kitchen was dark.

So was the nursery. The crib was empty.

His son.

Snatching up his phone, he frantically dialed his housekeeper’s number, then his bodyguard’s. If Tobias didn’t pick up, he’d call the police—

He nearly gasped with relief when the line was answered.

“Jett’s fine, Mr. Cabrera,” Tobias replied calmly. “He’s safe here in the car. With his mother.”

Rodrigo’s jaw dropped. “Lola is with you?”

“Yes. I’m driving Mrs. Cabrera to the airport now. She’s taking the first flight back to New York.”

To New York.

Gripping his phone, Rodrigo looked slowly around the shadowy beach house. Outside, the silvery moonlight on the vast, black Pacific seemed hollow and gray.

“She called me after you abandoned her on the side of the road.” His bodyguard’s voice was reproachful. “That was cold, Mr. Cabrera. God knows I hate my ex, but even I wouldn’t do that.”

Let me talk to her, Rodrigo wanted to say. Then he remembered how he’d told her he wanted her out of his life for good. How he’d left her standing on the sidewalk in Santa Monica. Lola would never forgive him for that. Ever. Even if he’d wanted her to.

“You don’t have to fire me for it, either,” Tobias said. “Because I qu—”

“You’re not fired,” Rodrigo said heavily.

The man paused. “I’m not?”

“You’re right,” he said flatly. “My son should be with his mother. Lola knows how to love him. I don’t. Take them to the airport. And leave me the hell alone.”

Rodrigo hung up. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey—not tequila, never tequila, it would only remind him of Mexico City—he drank it straight from the bottle.

He drank through Christmas Eve, until Christmas finally came, bright and fine. The sun sparkled in the blue sky, shimmering against the wide ocean, which stretched out forever.

Just like his empty beach house. Once, Rod

rigo had thought this house was the perfect size. Perfect for dating, perfect for entertaining and impressing others.