Page 66 of Bitter Secrets

“How did you get their attention?”

She had no doubt what he was referring to and knew the answer was going to bury her even deeper, but there was no use lying. “I used the stats you gave Colette.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Leave.”

CHAPTER7

Jasmine awoke suddenly. She forced herself to lay still as flashes of what happened last night played behind closed eyelids. Her ears strained for any hint of sound. Even though she sensed she was alone, she waited several minutes before she cracked one eye open and peered around the room. The bedroom door was closed, cutting her off from the rest of the penthouse, and the curtains were drawn, leaving her in near darkness. The only illumination came from the bathroom, where the door had been left ajar.

Her body felt leaden and achy. She would have lain there indefinitely if the overwhelming need for cleanliness didn’t take over. She rolled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. Gray light streamed through the large bathroom window, showing another dreary day, but at least the rain had stopped.

She stepped in the shower and spent an inordinate amount of time adjusting the taps. The mundane task kept her focused on the here and now instead of the memories beating at her, demanding acknowledgment. Part of her wanted to analyze the crap out of everything he had revealed, but a greater part of her knew she wasn’t strong enough. She may be on her feet, but her insides had been ripped to shreds by his verbal shrapnel. Like a soldier in enemy territory, she didn’t have time to process what happened. She had to keep moving. Any moment now, she could be ambushed. She banished their skirmish to the far recesses of her mind and relished her solitude. She had a sneaking suspicion that moments like this would be few and far between.

She focused on the little things like the stone beneath her feet, the steam wafting around her, and the draft at her back before she stepped under the heated waterfall. She meticulously scrubbed and lathered until her hair was a pyramid of bubbles. She paused several times to clear the misty glass to make sure she was alone. When she was squeaky clean, she left the shower.

Before she reentered the bedroom, she pressed her ear to the door and listened before she poked her head in. She was relieved to find the room still dark and empty. The invisible band around her chest loosened ever so slightly. She opened the curtains and searched for her suitcase. After looking under the bed, her eyes flicked to the closet. She approached cautiously and braced herself before she flipped on the lights. The sight of her meager belongings hanging across from his caused that tight band to snap. She snatched her jeans from the hanger with such force that it clattered to the ground, then swiped her makeup bag from the shelf and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door in her wake.

She avoided eye contact with herself as she styled her hair and didn’t bother with the eyeliner since her hands had a fine tremor she couldn’t control. Even after she was dressed, she dallied in the bathroom, consumed with dread over what lay beyond that closed bedroom door. It was only after she got a glimpse of herself in the mirror that she realized how pathetic she looked. She hadn’t chewed her nails in years. Squaring her shoulders back, she strode out of the bathroom and through the master. As her hand closed over the doorknob, she had a fleeting thought that he might have locked her in, but it turned easily in her grasp. The empty hallway was anti-climactic. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but the eerie silence wasn’t it. She fully expected him to press his advantage and continue his attack until she was defeated and on her knees, begging for mercy.

Even though she was inwardly quaking, she charged forward with her head held high. The sharp clip of her boots, announcing her presence long before she reached her destination made her cringe, but it couldn’t be helped. Although her strut would have made Daiyu proud, her palms were perspiring by the time she reached the living room. The sight of another empty room didn’t make her feel better. What game was he playing?

She eyed the hallway that led to his office. Even though everything in her rebelled at the thought of going to the scene of the crime, retreat wasn’t an option with a man like him, and she had to be certain. She stopped in the open doorway of his office and stared, uncomprehending, at the unoccupied desk. She wasn’t in any shape to withstand further trauma, but for him to go about his business as if nothing happened… Her distressed gaze scanned his office. If it wasn’t for the aches, she may have been convinced that her lurid memories were a figment of an overactive imagination that had finally lost touch with reality. A shiny new computer was in place of the one she broke. Everything was as neat and tidy as it had been before he… She took a step back and paused when a light glinted off an object on his desk. She looked left and right before she dashed in to retrieve her phone and left just as quickly.

She detoured to a formal dining area with seating for ten as she swiped through her notifications. No message or missed calls from Roth. He retreated. Why? To let her lick her wounds? No. More likely, what had utterly devastated her didn’t even rank on his conscience. He’d gone about his business as usual and had already dismissed what happened as adventurous bed play. She took a shaky breath and dropped her face into her hands as she tried to keep her shit together. Less than a week into this marriage and she was a mere shadow of herself already. She didn’t know how to feel about him, his actions, or the greater implications of his harsh truths.

She raised her head and eyed the flower arrangement in the middle of the table as her mind raced. She needed a safe place where she could regroup. That wasn’t here. It seemed as if the walls had absorbed her pain and were amplifying it back at her tenfold. Were these the new memories Roth wanted to make here? Her stomach churned as she left the dining room and made her way back to the living room where she paced as she dialed Johan, who answered halfway through the first ring.

“Mrs. Roth,” he acknowledged.

She cut through the niceties. “I need to get out of here.”

“When would you like to leave?”

She had her finger raised, ready to argue, but his response caught her off guard. “What?”

“We’re ready when you are.”

She wasn’t going to question her first stroke of good luck. “I want to go now.”

“I’ll ask Mo to get the car. I’ll be up in a few minutes. Does that work?”

“Yes,” she said as she rushed down the hallway back to the master suite. “Thank you.”

She fetched her work bag from the bedroom closet. By the time she returned, Johan was waiting for her. If she wasn’t paying attention, she would have missed the faint narrowing of his eyes as they flicked over her.

“What?”

His expression immediately blanked. “I’m sorry?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” he said quickly and stepped to the side and inclined his head. “After you.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “If something doesn’t look right, just say so.”

His neck flushed a dull red. “I apologize.” Then he held out a hand. “May I take your bag for you?”

“I got it,” she said as she strode ahead of him.

---