Reversed Clips

Sorry about that! I must have been delirious when I scheduled these posts, but this is how C18, PT. 3 & 4 should have been. Thank you for letting me know in the chat!

When she tried to sidle away, he pinned her against the wall and forced her arm into the sleeve.

“Roth, listen to me!” she shouted.

“I am listening.”

“Then hear me,” she pleaded as he did up the buttons of her coat, too hysterical to notice that he paused to finger her curls before he fixed her collar. “This dress is going to give everyone the wrong impression. That business you want to do tonight? People may brush you off and say they’ll get back to you later because they won’t want to be associated with someone with a wife who looks like this. Is that what you want?”

He didn’t respond. He just stared at her with that arrogant, implacable gaze that had brazened out countless awkward situations. But she knew better, and it was her job to warn him, as she had when they first met. He had no idea they were walking into a viper’s nest.

“You should go alone or let me find something more appropriate…” Her voice trailed off when he typed in the code to call the elevator. “You’re making a mistake.”

As he shrugged into his coat, she considered making a run for it and saving him from his own folly. He shook his head, easily reading her intention to flee.

“You aren’t getting out of this.”

“I’m trying to save you from being humiliated!”

“I won’t be.”

“So you don’t care if I am?” Her nerves stretched to the breaking point. “I grew up in this world. I know how these people think. This won’t go over well. Daiyu should have known better. This isn’t how you want to be introduced to high society, trust me.”

When he considered her thoughtfully, she felt a flash of hope. The light above the elevator flashed, announcing the car’s impending arrival.

“It would be better if you went alone,” she said quietly. “For your own sake.”

When he didn’t say anything, she went limp with relief and took a step away, only to find her arm shackled in a steely grip.

“Roth?” she whispered as the elevator doors opened. She clutched his arm in a death grip. “Please.”

He dragged her into the elevator and nodded to the operator before he shuffled her to the back. Her heart thundered as the doors closed, cutting her off from the safety of the penthouse. This couldn’t be happening.

It was a busy evening. The elevator stopped with annoying regularity on what felt like almost every floor. As the elevator filled, Roth placed her before him and wrapped his arms around her. She was stiff as a board.

With Christmas just around the corner, everyone was dressed festively with red scarves, glitter eyeshadow, even blinking reindeer antlers. Several residents were carrying bags filled with presents or had bottles of wine or champagne tucked under their arms.

When they stopped on the seventy-second floor, a man made his way to the back of the elevator and paused when he caught sight of them.

“Roth,” he acknowledged.

“Phin,” Roth replied.

Apparently, that was all that was required because neither said anything more.

She clenched her teeth as the elevator halted once more. Roth didn’t seem perturbed by the delay. He tightened his hold on her and buried his face in her hair. His appreciative hum made several people turn. Two women grinned at her. They assumed he was a besotted husband when he was anything but.

“You’re wearing the perfume I like,” he murmured.

She didn’t know he had a favorite perfume, since he had never mentioned it before. Was he telling the truth, or just getting into character? She knew from experience what a good actor he was.

While hairdressers, nail techs, estheticians, and makeup artists worked on her body, she worked on her mind. She reinforced her mental shields, buried her emotions, and got into character. The fact that she looked nothing like herself helped, but between the dress and Roth’s behavior, she was already off kilter. He was touching her again, scrambling her thoughts and making her emotions pitch and roll when she desperately needed control. He knew touch was sacred to her, that she craved connection. He was indulging her weakness so she would play her part more convincingly. Bastard.

Several couples exited on the twelfth floor to dine at one of the restaurants in the building, leaving some gaps in their wake. She stepped forward, hoping he would let her go. Instead, he hauled her back and further mocked her need for space by nuzzling her cheek, which made her go rigid.

“Behave,” he warned.

That quiet reproof made her want to scream like a lunatic. The effort it took to restrain herself made her insides ripple and quake. He was an expert at compartmentalizing, turning his emotions on and off at will, so she didn’t know what was genuine. After rejecting her, he now acted like he wanted to fuse with her. If he actually meant it and adored her, she could take on anything, including whatever awaited them at the Trentham Ball. But she didn’t have him. Not even close. Knowing he would be rating her performance and usefulness had her strung so tight, she could barely think straight. If she didn’t perform to his satisfaction, would he break their agreement?

The elevator finally opened onto the lobby. Roth held her back, allowing the other occupants who had been watching them surreptitiously to go ahead. She plastered a foolish smile on her face. If anyone had bothered to look, they would have seen her eyes were as blank as a doll’s as Roth kissed her cheek and took her hand.

When they exited the building, she sucked in a sharp breath at the blast of winter air. Neither her dress nor coat granted her much protection from the elements. She hurried forward without registering that Mo wasn’t in Roth’s Bentley, but a brand new Rolls-Royce Phantom that was drawing some admiring looks.

“What’s this?” Roth asked.

She ignored him, opened the back door, and slid onto the heated leather seat. She didn’t feel any of the excitement or glee she thought she would as she breathed in the new car smell.

“Didn’t she tell you?” Johan asked.

“Tell me what?” Roth said impatiently.

Johan ducked down to peer at her with a puzzled, expectant expression that she ignored by pressing the button to close the door. The car was delivered two days ago. The only reason Mo and Johan kept it out of their report was because she said it was a Christmas gift. Apparently, they had taken the reveal into their own hands, assuming now would be the perfect time for Roth to receive one of his presents. Under other circumstances, they would have been right, but now it was another unwelcome stressor on top of everything else.

Roth rounded the Rolls and got in on the opposite side. She could feel him staring at her as they pulled into traffic. 

“You bought a car?” he asked.

She buckled her seat belt as she muttered, “You have your Rolls-Royce Ghost in London. The car cuts out the city noise. I thought you’d enjoy having one here.” That wasn’t the real reason behind her impulsive purchase, but she couldn’t stomach telling him she bought it so they could hold hands in the back seat, which they couldn’t do in the Bentley. It seemed so foolish now. She wished the interior wasn’t so fucking quiet and that Mo and Johan weren’t listening to every word. “If you don’t like it, I can get you something else.”

“You got this for me?”

There was an odd note in his voice that made her want to open the door and throw herself into traffic.

“For Christmas.” She fiddled with her wedding ring, wriggling it to the edge of her finger and tipping it back and forth before swirling it back down. “I thought it would make your commute a little more peaceful.” She felt sick with shame. “I should have asked if you already had one or wanted something else…” She gestured to the front seats. “They thought you may want to install bulletproof glass. We wanted to check with you first.”

The silence was like nails on a chalkboard.

“I wasn’t expecting this.”

She couldn’t tell from his tone what he meant by that, and she wasn’t going to look at him to find out. “If you prefer something else…”

“We’ll talk about this later.”

So much for a grand, romantic gesture. She should have known better than to buy him a Rolls-Royce. The man bought jets on a whim. If he wanted a car where he could hold her hand in the back seat, he could have one delivered within the hour. She should have stuck to a tie and briefcase. That would have been less revealing than this sappy, expensive gift.

She stared out the window, but didn’t register the view. All she could think about was the commotion their appearance would cause. Everyone already thought the worst of her because she cheated on Ford with Roth, and now she was living up to her reputation by showing up in a risqué gown to show off brands that no self-respecting society wife would have. But she wasn’t a real wife, was she?

She slumped in the buttery seat and closed her eyes. She was going to kill Daiyu. Had her friend created the dramatic open back to show her tattoos on purpose? Daiyu had remarked on them during one of her wedding gown fittings. Daiyu was a true maverick who loved causing a stir. She just wished it wasn’t at her expense. But, it was too late now, and if Roth wasn’t concerned, she shouldn’t be either. But she was. After they parted, she would still have to deal with society and wanted to be taken seriously like her sisters, not labeled as a slut. 

Her eyes opened as Mo turned from Madison onto E 83rd. They were nearing the Trentham Mansion, a historic landmark. How many times had she admired the Beaux-Arts building and wondered about the grand interior? Though the Trentham’s threw an annual ball for a rumored three hundred plus guests every year for nearly a century, not one picture had ever been published in the press or on the internet. Anyone lucky enough to be invited wouldn’t dare violate their strict no photo policy.

Despite her dilemma, curiosity and anticipation bubbled to the surface. It was odd that out of all the prominent families her father had them study, one of New York’s oldest and wealthiest hadn’t been included. The Hennessy’s had amassed an impressive fortune within three generations, but the Trentham’s were seven generations deep and helped shape the city into what it was today. Although the Trentham name was synonymous with New York, she wouldn’t be able to identify a single family member. The Trentham’s were notoriously private and reclusive, a far cry from her father, who loved the spotlight.

 According to the hasty Google search she did in between appointments, the Trentham’s consisted of their patriarch, Sullivan, who was a little older than her father, and his surviving children, Nathaniel and Charlotte. A grandchild was noted, but there were no other details, not even a name. The family was shrouded in mystery. On their website, Nathaniel was listed as the principal owner of the Trentham Organization while his sister ran their foundation, which supported numerous charitable causes. Unfortunately, the reason the Trentham’s made headlines was because of the countless tragedies that plagued them. Many speculated the family was cursed and paying for the sins of their forefathers.

She glanced at Roth and wasn’t surprised he was on his phone. A week ago, she would have reached out to him for reassurance. Instead, she gripped her clutch with trembling fingers. The one and only time they had circulated in society was the night they met. She never imagined they would make their official debut as a couple at the Trentham Ball. Tonight, she was living out a lifelong dream, but like most dreams that came true, it was nothing like what she imagined.

As the Rolls-Royce slowed in front of the Trentham Mansion, she nervously fingered her curls. Johan didn’t need to get out to open her door, since there was a man on the sidewalk waiting to do just that. She took his gloved hand and blinked when he said, “Good evening, Mrs. Roth. We’re delighted to have you.”

It was a good thing he had a hold of her because she was so startled by him knowing who she was that she almost slipped.

“Thank you,” she said as she gained her feet.

The man smiled at Roth, who appeared at her side. “Mr. Roth.”

Roth nodded as the man bowed to excuse himself and rushed to greet someone who pulled up in an SUV. She ignored the activity around them and the deafening sound of an ambulance as it careened down Fifth Avenue, and looked up. The eight-story brick and limestone Trentham Mansion was magnificent. Tonight, every single window was lit up for the festivities. Security in long black overcoats and earpieces lined the steps, while men in white directed traffic and rushed to ensure the esteemed guests didn’t slip as they stepped onto the heated sidewalk. 

Roth grasped her hand and led her to the guarded double doors. Did he have to hand over an invitation or give his name so they could check it off a list? Roth didn’t slow as they climbed the steps. To her surprise, security gave way and inclined their heads respectfully as if they knew him. Even as she wondered how that was possible, she stepped into an entrance hall that transported her to a different era.

And for those asking if all of the book will be posted on Patreon--it will be. The very last post is Oct. 1, but all active subscribers will receive the final ebook a week or so before the public release date of Sept. 30. There's 24 chapters in total so by the time you get the final ebook, there may just be a few chapters to get through. But reading the book as a whole is a totally different experience than reading it in segments and there were a few rewrites so you'll pick up changes here and there. I'll post more in September when I have specific dates. At the moment, the manuscript is still with the editor.