Page 17 of Bitter Confessions

His face set in uncompromising lines. “I had no intention of letting you keep me a dirty secret. I forced you to choose. When you tried to break it off, I thought I miscalculated, only to discover you were trying to protect me from your father. You thought I’d give you up for the Langdon deal.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Why would I give up the only person who ever stood up for me? Who gave herself to me, knowing she could only grant that privilege once, and I was her choice?”

“You trapped me.”

His resolute expression didn’t change. “I’d do it again. A dozen times over to possess something so rare and pure. I knew whatever future came through you would make everything I’d endured worth it.” When her eyes flicked away, he grasped her chin so she couldn’t avoid him. “I vowed to give that woman the world, but before I could, she ran from me. I told you where my head was at, why I lied and said you weren’t worth the struggle, but I never contemplated setting you free. The year I refused to sign the divorce papers and demanded a face-to-face should have told you that. You weren’t supposed to leave me.”

Abruptly, he turned from her, an explosive curse bursting from him as he paced away. Jasmine stared straight ahead, tears falling freely now. The glimpse of the betrayal and rage on his face left her trembling.

Her throat convulsed. “You... you didn’t?—”

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” He cut off her flustered stammer as he stared at the view, hands clasped behind him. “What did you promise your father in exchange for his help, Jasmine?”

Guilt twisted her gut. She had every right to end a marriage she didn’t want to be in. He shouldn’t have fought her choice, forcing her to involve her father, which had started a war of retaliation and revenge she was still waging four years later.

“I wanted freedom,” she whispered, willing him to understand.

“There’s no such thing.” His voice cracked like a whip, impatient and oh-so-angry. “What were his terms—divorce me and inherit three hundred million?”

She thought back to his accusations in Colorado. She’d corrected him at the time, but apparently, he hadn’t believed her. “My inheritance had nothing to do with our divorce.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Why would I? There’s no need to at this point,” she said wearily. “Dad never told me I would inherit a dime, or that I was his executor. I learned of both after he went into a coma.”

Roth’s blatant skepticism made her chest burn.

“Maybe you should look back at that funeral footage. The reason Matt, Julius, and the others were around me was because I had no one. My sisters were pissed I inherited the last of Dad’s assets. They thought I manipulated him into changing his will. They left me to deal with Dad and the funeral arrangements by myself. I didn’t handle it well.” She scrubbed her hands up and down her thighs as memories of those horrible days bombarded her. “Matthew escorted me to the stage because I could barely walk, and Julius forced me to drink something because I almost fainted. My sisters kept their distance and never said a word to me.”

Jasmine averted her face to hide the hurt that still gnawed at her insides. She’d forgiven Colette and Ariana, but that didn’t erase the memories, nor the doubt fanned by the man judging every word that fell from her lips. Was her sisters’ recent change of heart genuine, or were they simply indulging the scapegoat who’d allowed them to maintain their pristine reputations and vast fortunes without any repercussions for their bad decisions?

“I never expected anything from my father even though we repaired our relationship. The only thing I wanted was Tuxedo Park, but I resigned myself to watching it go to my sisters. I hoped they’d let me live in the guesthouse, or even work alongside Thea if that was what it would take for them to allow me to visit every now and then. But Dad didn’t just give me the only home I’d ever known. He gave me everything.” Her voice fractured as emotion engulfed her. “He was so different in the end—the father I’d always dreamed of. I don’t know what compelled him to change his mind or why he didn’t warn me...” Her hands rose and fell to express the confusion and gratitude she couldn’t put into words. “I was so overwhelmed. I had no idea what to do with the money, and like my sisters, I didn’t think I deserved it. I went to Colorado to regroup and make sense of his gift, and I ran into you.” She fixed him with a level gaze from dripping eyes. “He didn’t bribe me with my inheritance. It was my choice to divorce you. One has nothing to do with the other.”

“He said you begged to come back into the family fold—that you were willing to do anything to get your inheritance.”

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “And you believed that?”

“What was I supposed to think when you refused to accept any money in the divorce?”

“I had my writing money, and since you went to so much trouble to keep your success a secret from me, why would I ask for anything?” She mopped her face with her plush sleeve. “You paid my college tuition and provided for me before writing could sustain me. That was enough. Besides, I learned early on, money always comes with strings, and I didn’t want that tie to you.” She met his shadowed gaze. “If my inheritance meant that much to me, I wouldn’t have forfeited it to marry you in the first place.”

Something she’d said had clearly unsettled him, but Jasmine was too drained to care what that was.

“Maximus wouldn’t help you without asking for something in return, so what was it?” he clipped.

He was like a dog with a bone...

“He asked for time.”

“Time,” he repeated as if he had no understanding of the word.

“Yes, time. He was lonely and sick and wanted us to work on our relationship. I agreed to visit him several times a month.”

She’d never seen Roth look so perplexed. Under other circumstances, she would have enjoyed seeing him off-kilter, but she had a raging headache. All she wanted was to stretch out on the couch and sleep.

“After all he did, he wanted a relationship with you.” Roth’s flat tone expressed his patent disbelief.

“Maybe he saw himself in a different light because he knew his time was short and didn’t like the way I portrayed him in my books,” she suggested.

He swept that theory aside with a contemptuous flick. “What else did you agree to?” he asked impatiently.

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