C22, PT. 4

No one was going to stop her from getting to her sister’s side.

“Cecil!” she exclaimed loudly, making him stiffen and wheel around to see who dared address him by his first name.

When he spotted her, he sneered. Colette’s mother, Estelle, paled and fiddled with her yellow diamond necklace.

“Estelle,” she said with false good cheer. “Have you been by to see your first grandchild yet? She’s absolutely gorgeous.” She switched her attention to Cecil. “And your first great-grandchild. I’m sure you’re so proud.”

Cecil curled his lip at her. “If it isn’t Maximus’ bastard.”

“Grandpa!” Colette stepped around him and gripped Jasmine’s arm. “Let’s go.”

She stayed right where she was. She had been largely ignored by her sister’s families—not that she cared about their approval or acknowledgment, but Cecil and Estelle in particular pissed her off. They were old money, but so were most of those in this room. The fact that someone like Sullivan with all his wealth and influence was down to earth, polite, and friendly, made Cecil look petty and childish. It was well-known that Cecil valued pedigree, education, and wealth above everything else. The fact that Colette possessed every quality he valued, yet treated her so poorly made her want to smack him.

“The term bastard has another definition that you embody perfectly,” she said sweetly.

Estelle clapped a hand over her mouth as if Jasmine uttered a foul word. It didn’t matter that he’d been the one to bring up the term to begin with, or that he’d been more direct in his attempt to insult her. At her side, Colette froze, while Cecil gaped at her.

“You let it leak to the press that you want Lawrence to take over your company instead of Colette, who grew up in my father’s office, so she could run both organizations.” She gave a delicate one-shoulder shrug. “I hope you do make Lawrence your CEO. We all know what a fuck up he is. Didn’t he flunk out of Yale and Harvard?” She snickered, wickedly gleeful, as an angry flush spread over Cecil’s cheeks. “I guess breeding isn’t everything, is it?”

Colette tugged urgently on her arm as Cecil stepped toward her, but his murderous expression altered when a large figure pressed against her back.

“Cecil.”

Roth’s tone was glacial. Cecil eyed Roth as if he were a pile of smelly trash.

“You don’t belong here,” Cecil snarled.

Colette stretched out a hand toward him. “Grandfather, please…”

Cecil smacked Colette’s hand away. The sound was sharp, shocking, and loud. Even as she let out an angry hiss, Roth swiftly yanked her behind him and invaded Cecil’s space, causing the older man to stumble back. Roth gave no quarter, backing him into the corner that Colette had been in a minute earlier.

“I’ve been trying to ignore you because you’re not worth my time,” Roth stated in a tone that was almost bored. “Your attempts to start rumors and have me investigated were annoying, but what should I expect from a man who’s done that all his life to get ahead?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Cecil blustered, as his eyes darted to the left and right to see if anyone was listening.

“You should have taken lessons from Maximus. He tripled his father’s fortune while you struggled to maintain yours. He was also more effective at getting rid of rivals and manipulating the market than you.”

“You…”

Cecil was so infuriated, he couldn’t speak. In contrast, Roth’s tone was cool and indifferent as he cornered a man who had once dominated gatherings like this.

“None of your heirs aside from Colette have a chance in hell of running your corporation. You knew that and didn’t want her attention divided into two places, so you tried to destroy Hennessy & Co.”

Roth lowered his voice, so Jasmine had to lean forward to catch his words.

“Your attempt to sway the board into replacing Colette and Ariana was sloppy. Nothing happens without my approval. If you haven’t figured out yet that your reign is over, maybe I should prove it to you. How about I tear your organization apart so you can experience something novel? What it’s like to be destitute before you die.”

Estelle stepped up to Roth’s side. “We aren’t here to make enemies.”

Roth turned his head and fixed his chilling gaze on Estelle. He didn’t speak for so long that Estelle took a wary step back.

“You know your father better than anyone. How destructive he is and how he’s ruled by hatred and resentment rather than sound reason. If you want to pass on any sort of legacy, I suggest you take control or allow Colette to because I’m done playing games.”

With that, Roth turned away. He wrapped an arm around Jasmine’s waist to lead her away. Behind them, Colette began, “I…”

Roth looked back and barked, “Colette,” in a tone that made several people jump. When Colette looked at him, he said, “It’s done. Walk away.”

When Colette realized they had gained everyone’s avid attention, she gave Roth a regal nod and walked away from her mother and grandfather without saying a word.

When Roth gripped her arm in the same place Tucker had, she squirmed. “I didn’t…”

“Don’t.”

His brusque tone made her wince. If she hadn’t deduced he was pissed from his voice or grip, his rapid stride that had people scrambling to get out of his way told her so.

He didn’t make his way back to Christoph, but instead ushered her down a corridor off of the ballroom. It was lit with flickering wall sconces and lined with tiny benches, so people could sit and admire the statues, vases, and artwork dramatically lit in custom cutouts in the wall. They passed a tiny crowd in front of the bathroom, a couple admiring a painting, and continued to the end of the hallway, where he thrust open a door. She glimpsed high ceilings, a roaring fire, and towering bookshelves before Roth backed her against a wall and leaned in.

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

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