Page 138 of Bitter Confessions

“Charlotte Trentham invited me to help with her foundation. I’ll be able to mingle with the other wives and get invitations to any functions you want.” She was proud her voice was steady despite the excruciating pressure on her chest. “I also met a former prime minister of Portugal who’s now doing something with the UN. If you’d like to meet him, he’s going to be in town for?—”

He went nose to nose with her, eyes glittering ominously in the blazing light from storefront windows on East 62nd Street. “Stop deflecting and tell me what the fuck happened.”

“No.”

She wasn’t prepared for him to yank on her leg, sliding her across the seat so she was flat on her back. Her dress and coat bunched around her waist as he crouched over her.

“A strike against you is a strike against me,” he said in a lethal hiss. “No one disrespects you. I don’t care if it was a look or a passing comment. No one is allowed to put that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The look you wore when you tried to break off the affair.”

Her chest quaked. How accurate. Dad had mentally and emotionally beaten her so severely, she could barely make eye contact with Roth when he showed up on campus. It hadn’t taken Warren hours to reduce her to rubble. Five minutes tops was all it took to devastate her and make her feel dirty, humiliated, and broken.

“Tell me who hurt you, princess, and I’ll destroy them.”

It was tempting to lean on him, to have him take on even more of her shit, but she had learned her lesson. If Colette approached him for assistance in taking Warren on, that was her choice, but she wouldn’t betray her sister’s confidence. If Colette reported Warren to the authorities, would they take an incident that happened a decade or two ago seriously? Realistically, even if they did, Warren had the money and connections to wriggle out of any long-term consequences. Lyle would go after Warren physically, socially, and financially, but he didn’t have the power to decimate him. But Roth did. He crumbled empires for fun and would win by any means necessary.

Would Roth feel any responsibility to defend a sister-in-law he didn’t respect, saw as worthless, and deemed unfit to run Hennessy & Co.? If he said Colette deserved what happened to her or it was her fault because she hadn’t spoken up, Jasmine may shoot him. Would he add this anecdote to Colette’s file so he could use the information against her sister in future? Fuck that.

“I can’t fix this if you won’t you tell me what happened.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she said raggedly.

“You’re getting it regardless.” He nuzzled her and ignored the way she strained to get away from him. “If it isn’t Warren, who is it? You think I can’t take them?”

“You’re going to be so angry,” she whispered.

He went very still. “Why?”

“One of the women in the bathroom thought I was sick because I’m pregnant.”

The masculine energy in the car, which had been tense from the moment they left Trentham Mansion, went haywire. Roth turned to stone above her. Her eyes started leaking again.

“Just tell them I’m a drunk and I don’t know how to hold my liquor. That will explain why I don’t attend other events.”

“Why wouldn’t you attend?”

She let out a choked laugh. “Says the man who told me I couldn’t play my role as well as my sisters and understood why my father kept me out of the public eye.”

“I was angry.”

“You’re always angry.” Fat tears slipped out of the corner of her eyes and into her hair. “I really tried. I didn’t mean to make a scene. I can call Christoph and try to?—”

“We’re not playing this fucking game. Tell me what happened, now, or I swear, I’ll?—”

“What?” she challenged. “You’ll fire me? Good. That’ll put us both out of our misery.”

His hand went to her throat and gripped. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“Boss.”

Johan’s warning came a second before the door opened. She had an upside-down view of the valet at 432 Park Avenue. The man’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he found Roth on top of her.

“Sir?” the man said in a strangled voice as he tried to figure out whether he should close the door or not.

The man stepped back as Roth climbed off her with enviable cool. As usual, he didn’t seem to care about being caught in a compromising situation that normally would’ve warranted a call to the police. If her pride hadn’t been so thoroughly thrashed this evening, she would have been annoyed he’d made a spectacle of them in front of the other residents, who were returning from their night out as well.

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