C23, PT. 1

An old man limped into the room, sweat dripping from his temples. Although Warren wore a tailored suit, it was wrinkled and hung oddly on his pudgy frame. The years hadn’t been kind to her father’s business partner. He had one patch of hair left on his otherwise bald head and had an unhealthy, gray pallor to his skin. She’d seen him briefly at the funeral, but thankfully hadn’t had to deal with his withering tongue since there were so many other people to see to.

“Uncle Warren,” she said brightly, making him grimace.

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?” he grumbled.

Countless times, but that wouldn’t stop her from doing it. When she was younger, she made the mistake of assuming her father’s constant companions were somehow related to her. Her father disabused her of that notion, but she continued to use the label to needle Warren so he wouldn’t speak to her.

“Never thought I’d see you at the Trentham Ball,” he said snidely.

“Me either,” she agreed, refusing to rise to the bait. Warren’s mission in life was to reduce everyone’s confidence to zero, but Tucker and Roth had already done that for him. She had nothing left.

“Maximus must be rolling in his grave tonight.”

She widened her eyes and did an exaggerated pout. “You don’t think he’d be proud of me for getting an invite or dancing with Sullivan Trentham?”

Warren’s lip curled. “Trentham’s standards aren’t what they used to be. Roth has no pedigree, but money has a way of making others overlook such details.” He managed to look down his nose at her, even though he was shorter than her. “Maximus would be ashamed of you.”

“My father’s dead,” she said flatly. “I don’t live by his rules any longer.”

“He sure is,” he agreed. “I see you sacrificed yourself to save your sisters from the hole they got themselves into. That’s the least you could do, I guess, after all the trouble you’ve caused in the past. The shock is that Roth would want you when he can have his pick of any woman here. I’d get a younger model, one that can still have kids. Then again, he isn’t going to keep you, is he?”

Although her expression was composed, his mouth curved in a malicious smile as if he knew her stomach iced over.

“Boy knows what he’s doing. Some will do business with him, but not all. He needs an in, and that’s where you come in. Your marriage forced an alliance with Lyle and Rami and now that Trentham has publicly endorsed him, he’ll be unstoppable. He doesn’t have the finesse or polish required for these social settings, but with you laying the groundwork like you did tonight, it doesn’t matter who comes after you.” His gaze slid over her. “Let me guess. He insisted on this dress?”

Her hand balled into a fist in the folds of her gown. How did he know?

“What better revenge is there than dressing the woman who ruined you like a slut, using her father’s reputation to establish yourself, and casting her aside once you’ve squeezed everything you can out of her? Even I can appreciate the poetic justice in that.”

She felt as if she was being pelted by razor sharp shards of ice that imbedded in her skin like glass splinters.

Warren raised his brows. “No sassy comeback? Hit the nail on the head, didn’t I?”

She willed anyone to walk through the door that Warren had left slightly ajar.

“You’re a carbon copy of her,” Warren muttered.

She shouldn’t take the bait. That’s what he wanted, but she couldn’t help herself. “Carbon copy of who?”

“Elena.”

She jerked. “You knew my mother?”

Crusty lips curled in a lecherous smile. “Inside and out.”

She felt a chill of foreboding. “I… I don’t understand.”

“Before she became Maximus’ personal assistant, she worked for me and several others.” His tongue darted out to lick his sweaty upper lip. “That’s not all she did for us.”

She took a reflexive step back. “No.”

He let out a dark chuckle. “We passed her around. Maximus made himself a laughingstock when she trapped him with a baby. He gave her money to abort you. She refused, of course, since that had been her aim all along. She made his life hell and used your existence to squeeze as much as she could out of him. He did more for you than I would have. He gave you his name, housed you, paid for your schooling. He tried to mold you into a lady, but you can’t change bad blood. I warned Ford. He knew what a gold digging whore Elena was and insisted you were different.” He snickered. “Maximus was one unlucky son of a bitch. At least Colette and Ariana come from good stock and are beautiful to boot, while you…” He let out a wheezing laugh. “You’re the mistake he couldn’t get rid of. Maximus always said you were the worst thing that ever happened to him.”

The blood drained from her face as he thrust his verbal spear straight through her heart. She didn’t move a muscle as he closed the distance between them. He was so close, she could smell the tang of his sweat as he reached out and touched the largest blue diamond that made up her necklace.

“What’d you do to earn this, huh? Did he share you? Slap you around? That’s what your mom was into. Probably why Maximus kept her within arms reach even though he despised her.”

Every fiber of her being recoiled in revulsion, but horror kept her immobilized.

“I’ve always wondered if traits like that pass from mother to daughter,” he mused as his finger brushed over the ruby heart ring. “Funny you should wear this tonight. This was the first token Elena ever picked out. I still remember what she did to earn it.”

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.

Copyright © 2024 Mia Knight. All Rights Reserved.