C13, PT. 3

“It matters.”

“How?”

“Because six months from now, you could receive a stalker letter or photographs of what you did today, and you’d be hard-pressed to remember where you went and why. Details that seem insignificant make all the difference in the world. Who you bumped into, a trash can you may have dropped your cup in… Everything matters. Others may be making their own observation reports of your movements, your security team, your habits. I intend to be a step ahead of everyone and ready for any circumstance.” He took in her dumbfounded expression and shook his head. “You have no idea.”

“And you do?”

He stared straight ahead, the lines in his face deepening into a dark scowl. “Yes.”

“My father made many enemies, but even he never felt the need to take such precautions.”

“I’m not your father.”

“I realize that,” she said quietly, all the warm and fuzzy feelings fading away to be replaced with disquiet. “What kind of enemies do you have, Roth?”

“You’re safe.”

His brusque tone wasn’t reassuring. She watched him navigate traffic as smoothly as Mo and Johan, even though she sensed his mind was elsewhere, somewhere bleak and grim.

“Roth?”

He didn’t acknowledge her or take his eyes off the road.

“I’m a part of your world. Don’t you think I should know what you’re trying to protect me from?”

His hand flexed on the steering wheel. “While you’re a part of my world, what I do will never touch you.”

The reminder that she was a temporary fixture in his life shattered the pleasurable intimacy of the moment. This time, when she tugged on her hand, he released it. She placed her hand on her lap and rubbed the feel of his lips from her tingling skin.

“I don’t make mistakes, Jasmine. Just trust me to take care of it.”

She stared straight ahead. She didn’t state the obvious—that he blundered once before, and it got him blackmailed.

They finished the rest of the drive in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. When he pulled up to 432 Park Avenue, Johan appeared outside her door, but knew better than to open it. Roth came around the vehicle and offered his hand. She took it and allowed him to twine their fingers together as they approached the lobby.

“Why did you insist on driving?” she asked as they passed through the front doors. At this time of day, there was little to no activity, since everyone was still at work. When they paused before the elevators, she squeezed his hand. “Roth.”

She hadn’t missed the searching glance Mo gave Roth when he got out of the car. Roth hadn’t made eye contact or given an explanation for his unexpected decision to drive.

He looked down at her, his expression cold and remote. Wherever he’d gone in his mind, it wasn’t a pleasant place. She wanted to brush back his hair and stroke his face to coax him into a better mood, but had no idea how he’d take that.

“I drove so I could touch you. I couldn’t do that with the large console between us in the back seat.”

The elevator doors opened before she could react to that statement. Roth stood slightly in front of her as they traveled up to the penthouse, acting more like a bodyguard than her husband, even though the only other occupant was the elevator operator.

“Have a good day, Joe,” she said as she exited.

The man inclined his head, but didn’t make eye contact with Roth present. Internally, she sighed. That was probably best.

The moment the elevator doors closed, Roth released her. He set the bag of untouched cookies on a side table and strode down the hallway to the master suite. She stared after him, torn between following or giving him the space he obviously wanted.

She perched on the arm of the sofa and squinted at the clouds drifting by. She felt like she was looking through an airplane window rather than sitting in a penthouse. The sky was a sea of white that hid the city from view. It was definitely going to snow. She suddenly wished she was in her library at Tuxedo Park with a fire going. She took in the luxurious, but stark surroundings. There was no need for a fire when there was a steady stream of heat circulating through the room, but she longed for the scent of firewood and smoke.

The living room had been tidied in her absence. Her blanket was neatly folded, empty dishes gone, and scattered books neatly stacked. The invisible staff must be monitoring her as closely as Roth, ready to clean the moment she vacated the premises.

It had been a good day. No, she corrected herself. It had been an excellent one. Speaking to Johanna Ledger and Roth’s enthusiastic reaction to her visit meant she should be on cold nine, not feeling despondent and troubled. But no matter how much she tried to live in the moment, his secrets cast a shadow over their time together. The longer she was with him, the more she was convinced that his blackmail was related to business. And what had he witnessed that made him take such stringent security measures?

When she heard his heavy footfalls, she pulled out her phone, and opened a social media app.

“I’m going to the gym.”

She turned her head to see he’d changed into navy pants and a charcoal long sleeve that hugged his biceps and broad shoulders a little too well. He tended to work out in the wee hours of the morning, so she rarely saw him like this. It was a delectable sight. Despite getting recently plowed, her inner sex kitten perked up. Disgusted with herself, she gave him a vague smile. “Have fun.”

“Do you want to come with me?”

Her smile vanished. “And have you laugh at how out of shape I am?”

His brows came together. “Why would I laugh?”

She took in his flat stomach and defined muscles and held up a hand. “I’ll pass.”

“You don’t have to do what I do. You can just walk on the treadmill or sit on the side if you want.”

She was a little bewildered by his insistence on being a gym ornament, especially since he was clearly still on edge. “I don’t want to get in your way.”

He eyed her for a moment before he turned and typed in the code. Magically, the doors opened as if the elevator never left. He boarded and that quickly he was gone.

She waited for several seconds to make sure he wasn’t coming back before she made her way to the master suite. It would have been nice to soak in the tub, but his edgy mood transferred to her. She wasn’t in the mood to laze around and daydream. She would just shower instead.

By the time she sat at her vanity to do her nighttime rituals, her agitation had lessened significantly. She took her time putting on creams and blow-drying her hair. Her vanity was covered in perfume, oils, and hair and skin products, while Roth’s remained bare aside from the basics.

She tried to contain her belongings to their designated area so she wouldn’t encroach too much on his territory. She would have preferred having her own bedroom and bathroom, but he insisted they play the part of a real married couple so they wouldn’t give the staff anything to gossip about. She understood, but worried that her messy tendencies would agitate his OCD.

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

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