Page 124 of Bitter Secrets

“Tiago.”

She nodded and selected a cracker as she asked, “How many of my father’s contacts have you managed to collect?”

“Enough.”

Her hand fisted in her lap as the server appeared with their meals. She didn’t take her eyes off Roth as she thanked the server and reassured him that everything so far had been perfect. The moment the server walked away, she hissed, “How did you get them to do business with you?”

“Eat.”

“I don’t want—"

“Eat.”

His steely undertone told her the topic wasn’t up for discussion. She looked out over the city as she tried to rein in her temper. She wanted to know just how deeply Roth had infiltrated her territory, but did it really matter? It was done. There was nothing she could do about it, and she wasn’t supposed to care about his business practices and contacts. She was supposed to mind her own business and stay in her lane. With effort, she realigned her thoughts and reached for her fork. The delicious meal, second glass of wine, and tiramisu helped mellow her considerably. She slouched against the cushions and enjoyed distant music that carried in the still night. She eyed Roth, who was back on his phone, completely immune to the relaxed atmosphere and beautiful setting.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

Colette:Are you still in Switzerland?

Before, she’d been comforted by her sisters’ daily check-ins, but Roth’s twisted spin on her sisters had her measuring every word and interaction she had with them since she returned from Colorado. Her sisters knew Roth moved back to New York and hadn’t shared it with her. And it wasn’t until the paparazzi snapped pictures of them that her sisters extended that olive branch… To soften her up, so she would feel obliged to talk to Roth if they couldn’t buy back their shares? Were Colette’s frequent messages motivated by guilt that she forced her little sister back into an abusive relationship to save her company?

She shoved her suspicions aside and sent the pictures she took of the sunset and one of their empty plates on the table.

Colette:Lisbon?

Jasmine:Yes.

Colette:Great city. Roth’s meeting with Lourenco Silva?

She shot Roth a furtive glance, but he was engrossed with what was on his screen. Colette had come to the same conclusion she had. Her sister’s inquiry was innocent, a natural assumption, but she wasn’t sure how Roth would interpret it. She wished she could warn her sisters that her phone was being monitored, but that would open a whole new can of worms. Did Colette have any concept just how much Roth had infiltrated their network?

Jasmine:Tiago’s taken over.

Colette:Of course. Give them our regards. It’s been too long since we’ve connected with the Silvas. Enjoy your time in Lisbon and eat some Pastéis de Nata for me.

Colette followed her message with a few pictures of Polara that warmed her heart. She zoomed in on Polara’s bright eyes and toothless smile before she set her phone aside. Her sisters had been dicks in the past. They’d been cold and heartless. That was the way Maximus trained them to be, but they were trying. If Colette hadn’t cared, she wouldn’t have come clean to Lyle about the state of the company, right? She wouldn’t allow Roth to poison their relationship if there was a chance that it could be salvaged. They were innocent until proven guilty.

“You’re wrong about my sisters,” she said.

He looked up from his phone. He didn’t contradict her, he just waited, which irked her more than if he argued.

“It’s not just about Hennessy & Co. They care about me.”

“And you’re a good judge of character.”

It was said without derision or sarcasm, merely as a casual observation, but the words sliced through her gut before she went numb.

“You’re right. I’m a terrible judge of character,” she deadpanned, before she turned blind eyes to the server who asked how their meal was. She tried to muster up an appropriate amount of enthusiasm for what had truly been a five-star experience, but her subdued monotone made the server frown in puzzlement.

“Would you like coffee or—?”

“We’re done. The check, please,” she said as politely as she could.

The server cast an assessing glance at Roth before he inclined his head. “I’ll be right back.”

She dropped her gaze to the candle flame, which became a shapeless blob as her vision unfocused. She was dimly aware of Roth taking care of the check. When he rose, so did she. She moved like an automaton, trailing after him as he navigated through the restaurant. She stood behind him, Mo, and Johan, as they talked in low tones in the elevator. Roth took her hand when they reached the lobby. She didn’t pull away, but he tightened his grip when her hand lay lax in his. They didn’t speak as they made their way back to their hotel, and when he unlocked the door to their suite, she headed to the bedroom. She shucked her clothes, tossing them on the ground in a heap before she slipped into pajamas. She did her nighttime routine and kept her eyes averted from her reflection when she brushed her teeth. Once in the bedroom, she pulled back the curtains to let in soft moonlight and slid beneath the covers, which had been changed in their absence. She closed her eyes, willing sleep to drag her into its empty void, but her mind refused to shut down.

She was a bad judge of character. Roth managed to fool her countless times. So had her father. Why wouldn’t her sisters cash in on her naïveté? When she possessed nothing of value, her sisters ignored her existence. Now that she was worth a quarter of one billion dollars and the ex-wife of the man who wanted to take over their company, they suddenly wanted to repair their relationship? What were the chances? Was she so desperate to be loved that she would discard three decades of evidence for two changed months?

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