Page 118 of Bitter Confessions

Roth grasped her hand and brought it to his mouth. To Mikhail and other observers, it looked like she was getting a kiss when he nipped her skin for prying.

“I’m rarely in one place for long. Our schedules have never allowed us to talk in person until this moment.”

Roth took control of the conversation before she could squeeze more information from Mikhail. She was grateful, because her stomach was in knots. She’d known there was a possibility a Baldwin would be here, but she’d assumed it would be their father, Parker. Roth mentioned Ford had moved out of the country, but he could have come back for this event. Was he here and she hadn’t crossed paths with him yet? She frantically began to search the crowd, even going up on tiptoes to see over everyone’s heads, until she realized she had Roth’s undivided attention. She dropped onto her heels and forced herself to stare at Mikhail, though she didn’t hear a word he said.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man headed in their direction. She ignored him until he was almost upon her. She mentally braced and turned with a vacant smile that vanished when she saw Daiyu’s father, Shen Wu.

“Mr. Wu.” She bowed her head respectfully and would have done the traditional fist-and-palm salute if her hand wasn’t being held captive in Roth’s.

“It’s been many years since we’ve seen one another,” he said in Mandarin.

Since Roth was still speaking to Mikhail, she didn’t have to translate and responded in the same language. “Too long.” She looked past him. “Is Daiyu here?” If she was, she might be tempted to strangle her childhood friend in the bathroom.

Shen gave her a sharp look. “Of course not. She has no impulse control, and her manners are atrocious.” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have allowed her to spend so much time in the United States.”

“Daiyu’s unique and expressive.”

He grunted and surveyed her dress. “This is hers?” When she nodded, he sniffed. “It’s too revealing, but the tailoring is unrivaled.”

His reluctant respect for his daughter reminded her so much of her father that she suppressed a smile.

“You got her wedding gown in Vogue. That’s been a dream of hers since she was a little girl.”

“She deserves it.”

He gave a dignified nod. “She has talent. I’ll be back for her show in February. I hear you’re walking in it.”

“I didn’t agree to that.”

He cocked a brow. “Why not?”

She resisted the urge to squirm. When she was a kid, she didn’t know who was more intimidating—Daiyu’s father or hers. Both had terrible tempers. She was an adult now. Shen wouldn’t yell at her like he did when he caught her and Daiyu beneath the dessert table when they were five, but that didn’t stop her instinctive wariness and a compulsion to please, which was disturbingly strong even after all this time.

“I’m not sure I want to walk in a fashion show,” she said, striving for diplomacy.

“Why not?” he repeated.

She resisted the urge to use her hands to talk, grateful Roth still had a hold of one so she wouldn’t reveal her nervousness to a man who naturally brought it out in her. “I’m not a model, and I don’t want the attention,” she said a tad defiantly.

He eyed her for a long moment before he said, “I understand you don’t strive for the spotlight like my Daiyu. While I wish she had chosen a different profession, I see that she enjoys designing clothes, and it’s led to many profitable opportunities. If you walked in her show, I would be in your debt.”

Mr. Wu in her debt? That was nothing to take lightly. “I...”

“I’ll see you there,” he said as if she’d agreed, and shifted his attention to Roth, who was watching them. “Roth.” When he inclined his head, Mr. Wu glanced at her and said in rapid Mandarin, “It was a pleasure seeing you, but you should plan a visit so you can brush up on the language. Your Mandarin is lacking.”

She resisted the urge to throw her hands up in the air as he walked away. Her father’s cronies never missed the opportunity to criticize her about something.

“What was that about?” Roth asked.

“He was roasting my Mandarin and emotionally blackmailing me to walk in Daiyu’s show. You concluded your business with Mikhail?” The white whale had melted into the crowd.

Roth frowned and held up her right hand and brushed his thumb over the ruby heart that had replaced her original wedding ring. “What the fuck is this?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw several heads turn at his coarse language. She maintained her bright smile while her eyes shot daggers at him.

“Language,” she warned as she yanked her hand from his grasp. “Who else do you need to meet this evening besides Amos Faulkner?”

“Who gave you that ruby ring?”

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