Page 12 of Bitter Confessions

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached behind her to fix the hood of her jacket, which must have been in some disarray to set off his OCD.

“Your grandfather created a tight-knit global network. Each person was strategically picked for their industry, location, and other criteria that helped your family maintain their position at the top. Your father refined that organization into a weapon with the power to sway economies and governments.”

His hands slid beneath her jacket to caress her bare skin. Jasmine hated the liberties he was taking but was leery of interrupting him as he divulged insider knowledge he’d never shared in all the time she’d known him.

“When Maximus’s health declined, your sisters neglected those ties, leaving an opening for me to get my foot in the door. I didn’t have the resources, influence, or pedigree the Davies and the Wus required to do business with them. Grayson’s connections helped, but that wasn’t enough. I had to prove myself in other ways.”

Her pulse skipped. “What ways?” She felt a draft on her abdomen as the jacket shifted so he could cup her right breast.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” she challenged, valiantly fighting the urge to slap his kneading hand.

“My business dealings don’t concern you.”

She arched into his palm as her back went ramrod straight. “Just as it doesn’t concern me that Colette made bad business decisions that allowed you to become the majority shareholder of Hennessy & Co.? I wouldn’t be here if the company weren’t in such dire straits!”

“Don’t kid yourself. We still would have ended up here.”

A nipple swipe left her grinding her teeth. There was no way in hell she would have given Roth the time of day after he called her a whore. If Colette hadn’t gone into premature labor from stress, Jasmine would have barricaded herself at Tuxedo Park and let the world burn while she finished her book. But that was a moot point, and there were more important things to discuss.

“These people who made you prove yourself... are they included in those you’ve sworn revenge on, who ran you out of the States?”

He didn’t respond. He just stared at her with that stony gaze that told her absolutely nothing.

She twisted his shirt in her hand. “If you’re planning to fuck over the Davies or Baldaccis?—”

“I have no reason to fuck them over at the moment.”

That wasn’t quite the reassurance she was looking for, but it would have to do. “Your vendetta...”

“Doesn’t include your friends here. Your father’s cronies in New York are a different matter.”

“But—”

His hand left her breast as he stepped back and ran it through his hair in an uncustomary display of irritation. “You never learned how to separate business from personal. You’re too idealistic and noble to see things as they are.”

“And you’re too closed-minded and cynical to see what could be,” she retorted. “Most of these people—William Davies, Frederick, Charon—I assume they’re a part of this elite fraternity you’re talking about. These relationships aren’t just based on power and financial gain but trust and longevity. They’re good people, not pawns to play with and then discard when you feel they’ve served their purpose.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “Sometimes, I wish you didn’t know so much about this world. It makes things more complicated than it needs to be.”

She tipped her nose in the air. “Most men would be relieved their partner understands enough about the business world that they don’t embarrass them in society.”

“It’s impossible to embarrass me.” His gaze tracked over her face as he said, “You’re fond of men who are monsters behind closed doors. You have no clue what they’re capable of. I don’t know whether it’s a blessing or a curse that they’re just as fond of you. It’s allowed you to navigate society relatively unscathed.” His eyes met hers. “It seems you have a talent for beckoning out the shred of humanity they possess. It’s not easy, witnessing the effect you have on others.”

“Effect?” she echoed, bewildered. “Who?—”

“Guy Reed.”

It took her a moment to place the name. When she did, she scoffed. “You aren’t serious. The spoiled brat who sold his father’s company is a monster behind closed doors?”

“Not yet, but when he runs through his fortune and turns to making money the easy way, he could be.” His eyes narrowed. “And you captured his interest.”

She rolled her eyes as she slipped off the counter. “Because he found out I’m a Hennessy.”

“You captured his attention because you made a fool of him,” Roth corrected. “There aren’t many women who can, and even fewer who’d dare to put someone like him in his place.”

“He deserved it.”

---