Page 99 of Bitter Heat

Mason ignored him and kept his gaze fixed on her. He spun his phone on the table and said, “Mr. Roth made it clear he wants this wrapped up today. If you want to renegotiate, I need to know what you want so I can call him and get this taken care of.”

So Roth would pick up his attorney’s call but couldn’t shoot her a text with the elevator code. Typical. She regarded Mason as she tipped the pen from side to side on the prenup, which was clearly getting on his nerves. Apparently, he felt she was wasting his time, and he wasn’t happy about it.

“Considering the fact that Mr. Roth now owns a controlling share of Hennessy & Co, don’t you think it’s wise that you tread carefully?” Mason asked.

Outwardly, she didn’t react, but her stomach clenched.

“That has nothing to do with this,” Henry said with heavy disapproval.

Once again, Mason ignored him. Sensing her discomfiture, he went in for the kill.

“Mr. Roth made it quite clear that he thought this was a fair settlement,” Mason drawled, “considering your past record.”

Henry stiffened, and her pen stopped tapping.

“I was the one who initiated our first divorce, and I took nothing,” she said quietly. “What makes you think I’m holding out for a larger settlement?”

“You have no one to run to anymore now that Maximus is gone,” Mason said bluntly. “And your sisters aren’t doing too well, either.”

“You can—” Henry began hotly but fell silent when she touched his sleeve.

“Roth’s a busy man,” Mason continued, unfazed by Henry’s outburst. “You don’t want to test his patience by asking for more now, do you? My advice is to take what he offers and be grateful for it.”

She dropped the pen on the prenup and got to her feet. She looked at her attorney who was flushed and visibly upset by Mason’s insults. She squeezed his shoulder. “Thanks, Henry. I’ll be in touch.”

Mason shot to his feet. “You’re not going to sign? He told me he wants this taken care of.”

“When he asks why I didn’t sign, tell him it was because I didn’t like being insulted or told I’m not worth a larger settlement by a pushy attorney who doesn’t know his place.”

She had the satisfaction of seeing the blood drain from his face before she walked out of the room. It felt good to make a dramatic exit. She had no intention of asking for a larger settlement or backing out of their deal, but she would let Mason sweat thinking he had screwed up Roth’s plans. Served him right. Who did he think he was talking to? If this was how Roth conducted business, he was going to make a lot of enemies. She was in too deep to pull back, but she wasn’t going to let anyone talk to her that way. Fuck him. The prenup could wait until her wedding day. If Roth gave Mason orders to intimidate her so she would sign, he was way off base. Mason’s snide insults only made her more determined to give him a hard time.

Mo materialized by her side as she caught the elevator to the ground floor. As she slipped into the Bentley, her phone rang. Roth’s name appeared on the screen. Screw him. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to his threats. Mason had already done an exemplary job of pointing out how little power she had. She put her phone on silent and stared out the window as they headed back to the penthouse.

“Ms. Hennessy.”

Mo was turned in the front seat, holding out his phone. She didn’t take it.

“It’s Mr. Roth,” Mo said, extending it until the phone was inches from her face.

“I’ll call him back,” she said, knowing full well Roth could hear her.

“Ma’am, I don’t think—”

She reached out and pressed the button to end the call. Mo’s eyes bulged.

“I don’t want to talk to him,” she said firmly.

When they pulled up to 432 Park Avenue, Mo accompanied her to the elevator and typed in the code while purposely blocking the keypad so she couldn’t see. Roth made it abundantly clear that he didn’t trust her. She was a temporary asset and wouldn’t be given free rein.

Mo pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at her before he put it away without answering. She walked out of the elevator, tossed her coat on the couch, and headed to her computer so she could erase the bad taste in her mouth. As she pulled up her manuscript, text messages from her phone appeared on the screen.

Roth:How much?

She turned off her messages, put on her earphones, and got to work.

She was trying to enter La-La Land, but real-life crap filled her mind. She had just returned from her final fitting with Dai, which left her completely drained. The dress was sublime. If that wasn’t bad enough, Dai insisted on a veil… and that was when all hell broke loose. She panicked and almost ripped the dress in her haste to get out of it, sending Dai into an epic meltdown caused by days of little sleep to complete the gown that she was convinced was going to launch her into the bridal market. It took two hours to calm the distraught designer. The only thing that would appease Dai was Jasmine’s promise that she would wear the veil. Both items now hung in the guest bedroom closet.

There were words to write, but she couldn’t focus. Mason had called several times since she walked out of the meeting. Fuck him. Her voicemail was full so he couldn’t leave a message. He sent her a few text messages. His tone had significantly changed, but she wasn’t buying it. Roth also sent texts ordering her to call, but she didn’t. Mason’s words kept knocking around in her head. The fact that he had brought up Roth taking over Hennessy & Co niggled at the back of her mind. Would people assume she was marrying him out of gratitude for saving their company or that she was in dire need of funds and groveled to be his wife again? Even as she told herself it didn’t matter what others thought, she stewed on it.

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