Page 111 of Bitter Confessions

It wasn’t just them. It was the weight of his expectations of her and the ghost of her father chastising her for not being as socially polished as her sisters.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she confessed.

“You can.”

When she shook her head, he pressed his lips to her temple.

“No one can make you feel inferior if you don’t let them.”

Rough fingertips skimmed her naked back, distracting her from some jackass off to the left, who was asking how quickly they’d married after her father died.

“You’re a Hennessy, the heir to a dynasty. This is what Maximus groomed you for,” he growled. “You belong here more than me.”

“I’ve never belonged here,” she muttered as he palmed her ass.

“Maximus knew you’d thrive here. Why do you think he gave you your inheritance?” When she stiffened, his voice dropped. “This is where we belong—where we would have been a long time ago, if Maximus hadn’t interfered.”

His lips trailed along her hairline. There was a ton of activity around them, but Roth ignored it, giving her the time she desperately needed to regain her composure.

“I’ve been building up to this moment my whole life. To receive invitations to events no amount of money can secure, to be counted a peer amongst men I studied and emulated. To look my enemies in the eye on their turf so they know how badly they failed before I take everything from them.” His voice hardened, deepened. “This is your moment too. To step out from your family’s shadow and show you’re a force to be reckoned with. You know how to play the game. Maximus showed you how to win.” His hand splayed on her lower back. “This is our moment. I need you to walk in there with me with your head held high and prove they couldn’t break us. Can you do that for me, princess?”

She tipped her head back and was ensnared by his fierce warrior’s gaze. The force of his indomitable will pressed upon her. Waves of confidence, reassurance, and strength flowed from him to her, dissipating the anxiety and shame. Instantly, her equilibrium began to stabilize. That weightless, euphoric blank space she’d only attained after rough sex began to blot out the cacophony around them, giving her overactive senses a much-needed break.

“You can do this.”

There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his voice; it was pure steel.

She stopped thinking about herself and everyone around them and focused solely on him. He concealed how important this night was to him. Why? Because he thought she wouldn’t understand? She, more than anyone, knew what an honor it was. Receiving a personal invitation from Sullivan Trentham was unheard of and unequivocal proof that he had made it. Roth was claiming his spot in society at the highest tier possible, but his crowning moment wouldn’t be complete without her participation. Not only could she guide him through this quagmire so he could make the most of the opportunities that crossed his path, but their marriage was also a blatant fuck you to her father’s cronies who would be here tonight en masse.

He set his forehead against hers. “I need you.”

Things weren’t settled between them, but she wouldn’t sabotage his night. Not because of their deal, but because he deserved to have his moment. He’d worked his ass off to get here. No financial accomplishment had ever satisfied him, but perhaps being accepted at this level would give him that sense of fulfillment that had eluded him. She hadn’t been able to help him through the hardships her dad heaped on him, but she could help him on one of the most important nights of his life and make sure he shined.

“Jasmine.”

His tone was part-demand, part-doubtful.

She reached up and stroked his cheek. He stiffened but didn’t pull away, knowing physical touch grounded her. She wished things were better between them; that he was truly happy with her and had shelved his icy reserve because he cared about her rather than because he needed her to perform. But he was a businessman first and foremost and would do anything to accomplish his goals, same as her father. She should be used to it by now.

But she could benefit from this as well. Her return to society was inevitable. What better comeback was there than to be on the arm of the underdog of the century? The man the elites hadn’t been able to cow. She looked the part of a billionaire’s wife. Now, she had to embody it.

She dropped her hand and gave him the first smile she’d been able to muster all week. “I’m ready.”

His eyes blazed as he gripped her hip. “You were born for this.” His voice vibrated with conviction.

“I know.” That’s why he’d chosen her.

He dipped his head and kissed her. Startled, she drew back, only to have his mouth latch on, demanding she give herself to him. He twined his fingers with hers and pinned her hands against the wall on either side of her head. The part of her mind that was still functioning warned her this wasn’t the time or place for this. The way he was kissing her wasn’t for an audience. Then again, this was his night, and if this was how he wanted to celebrate, who was she to stop him? After a long, lonely week, she didn’t have the will to protest.

When he raised his head, she was pleasantly lightheaded.

“Okay?” he rasped.

“Never better,” she sighed.

His eyes gleamed with predatory excitement. He was like a shark scenting blood, eager for the kill. He kissed her again—this time hard and swift—before grasping her hand.

She still felt a twinge of uncertainty. She wasn’t sure how helpful she’d be. The reason she’d been so effective the night they met was because she knew most of the guests. The Trenthams’ were a totally different ball game. Their global interests and industries they dealt in, she knew nothing about. Nevertheless, she’d do her best to assist him.

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