Page 132 of Bitter Confessions

Colette’s voice was soft and controlled—a sharp contrast to Warren’s indignant tones.

“I should have told him.” Colette’s fingernails scrabbled over her clutch, tearing at the fabric, as she stared at Warren with enraged, glistening eyes. “I should have known Dad would never expect me to submit to any man, even one he considered a friend.”

Warren paled. “I was loyal to Maximus.”

“You’ve never been loyal to anyone in your life. If Dad revealed a weakness, you would have pounced. You were jealous of Dad, because he set the tide while you were left in his whitewash. You needed to be his friend, so you knew what moves to make. You were the enemy masquerading as a friend. I let myself believe you violating me wasn’t a good enough reason to ruin a business relationship, but I am worth it, and Dad would have ripped you apart.”

“No one will believe you,” Warren hissed.

“You think my husband or brothers-in-law will believe you over me?” Colette taunted softly. “Roth’s put quite a few of you in a bind and as you saw this evening, Sullivan is fond of him.” When Warren said nothing, she continued. “If word of this gets out, everyone will start to pull away from you. It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not, though you and I both know it is. I know I wasn’t the only one and if they start talking...”

“What do you want from me?” he said harshly.

Colette looked at Jasmine, who hadn’t spoken or moved throughout the confrontation. “We made a deal long ago. You just broke our terms.”

He glanced at Jasmine and snarled, “I didn’t even touch her!”

“Just get out of my sight,” Colette ordered. “The damage is already done.”

Warren opened his mouth, closed it, and then shook his head as he hobbled out of the room. When he was gone, Colette slowly approached Jasmine.

“Are you okay?”

Jasmine met her sister’s eye and swallowed bile as she whispered, “He touched you?”

“It was a long time ago.”

Colette looked so cool and collected. How did her sister keep it all in? How did she have the strength to do business with Warren and sit across from him at dinner after what he’d done to her?

“Ariana?”

Colette shook her head. “She doesn’t know. I made him promise not to touch either of you. I did my best to keep him away from others too, when I could.”

Her mind provided graphic images that made her clap a hand over her mouth as her stomach heaved.

“Jasmine?”

She couldn’t answer, because she was going to be sick, and she couldn’t do it in this beautiful room or the corridor lined with priceless artwork. She ran out of the library and down the hallway. Thankfully, the crowd in front of the bathrooms had dispersed. She was in too much of a hurry to read which bathroom was for women. She shouldered through the door on the right and felt a flash of relief when she saw three women in front of the vanity. They turned when she barged in and gasped when she slammed into one of two stalls, fell to her knees, and vomited. The twelve-course meal and champagne came up, making her gag. There was a cacophony of voices before Colette’s rose above everyone else’s. Clammy hands moved over her before Colette gathered her hair and pulled it back.

“Is she pregnant?” she heard an interested voice say. “Is that why they married?”

“Out!” Colette ordered.

“Well, I never,” a huffy voice said before the door slammed and silence fell, allowing Jasmine to be sick in peace.

“I’m sorry.”

Colette’s voice was thick with tears.

“Why are you apologizing?” she said hoarsely as she waited for her stomach to stop pitching and rolling.

“I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. I should have confronted him somewhere else.”

“Stop worrying about everyone else and think of yourself,” she groaned before she retched again.

When she finished, Colette handed her a wad of toilet paper to wipe her mouth. She sat on the floor until her head stopped spinning. She wished she had the luxury of falling apart, but this ordeal was far from over. She had to get a grip.

Colette helped her to the marble vanity decorated with red and white roses, a pyramid of washcloths, and baskets full of just the type of amenities she needed. As she swilled mouthwash, Colette wet a towel and tried to clean the curls she hadn’t pulled back in time. When she looked in the mirror to assess the damage, she closed her eyes in defeat.

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