C3, PT. 3

“You went to a charity event with Lincoln,” Roth said, drawing her pensive gaze back to him. “And you and Preston made headlines when you took a wild ride through the city.”

“What…? Oh! That was, like, three years ago!”

“Two.”

She shrugged and missed the muscle that flexed in his cheek. “I had plans to meet up with Dad, who just finished lunch with Preston. I hadn’t seen him in years, and he just bought this flashy orange McLaren. He asked me to come for a ride.” Her mouth curved in a fond smile, remembering his boyish excitement. “It was a beautiful day, so he had the top down. He wanted to push it to the limit, which got him a ticket. I don’t know how the press got those photos or why they bothered to publish them.”

“His company just went public, and he was supposed to marry some royal,” he reminded her in a clipped tone.

“That’s right. Whatever happened with that?”

He glowered at her. “What about the charity event with Lincoln?”

She gave a dismissive wave. “He just got divorced and was having trouble finding a date that wouldn’t get the wrong idea. Dad was one of the major donors and wanted me there, which is the main reason I decided to go.”

“You expect me to believe all of these instances where you were photographed with these men was spontaneous and platonic?”

His tone was even, and his expression was bland, but she knew better. She didn’t prevaricate, even though he didn’t deserve to be let off the hook so easily. But her friends didn’t deserve to be punished for Roth’s misplaced jealousy and possessiveness for innocent outings. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. What else would it be? We’ve known each other all our lives.”

“They’ve never seen you as a friend.”

“You’re mistaken.”

“They didn’t show up to your father’s funeral out of a sense of duty, they showed up for you.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he asked, “The night we met, why did you introduce me to them?”

That gave her pause. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why, Jasmine?”

“They were the most likely to give you a chance.”

“Not me, you.”

“What?”

“They have a soft spot for you, and it’s not because you grew up together. If you weren’t the one doing the introductions, they would have walked away like everyone else. They stayed put, risking their parents’ wrath for you.”

“Are you crazy? No one wanted me! I’m the illegitimate black sheep. I was lucky that Ford offered—”

“Don’t say his name.”

She ignored the edge in his voice. “None of them have given any indication that they’re interested in me that way.”

“You must have overlooked their subtle, well-mannered passes since they’re such gentleman.” When she stared at him as if he’d grown two heads, he asked, “Did they continue to contact you after the funeral?”

“Dad died,” she said slowly. “They were worried about me.”

His silence spoke volumes.

A little frantically, she ran through her interactions with her childhood playmates, trying to see them through a different lens. Matthew bought a neighboring estate in Tuxedo Park after his wife died from breast cancer. Dad invited him over for dinner, which was odd since her father wasn’t known for his hospitality. There were a handful of times when he popped up around lunchtime and Thea just so happened to have a meal prepared. Dad hadn’t been present, so she kept him company. She assumed Matthew was stopping by to see her father for business advice…

Although she liked Lincoln, she went as his date more as a favor for Dad, who badgered her for a month to attend. She declined future offers from Lincoln, that small taste of society enough to make her realize she was better on the fringes of it.

And Julius… They had never been particularly close, but after the funeral he called every week, showing a level of empathy she didn’t know he possessed. She turned down his offers to go to dinner or a day trip to take her mind off her father. Come to think of it, he hadn’t phoned her since she reunited with Roth. Coincidence?

Unsettled, she looked up and found herself the focus of intense scrutiny.

“What?” she snapped defensively.

“Which one of them was supposed to replace me?”

She blinked. “Replace you?”

A muscle ticked under his eye. “Maximus said you had someone waiting in the wings, someone of your own class who made the grade. I assume you had a falling out, which is why the engagement was never announced.”

“When… when did Dad say that?”

“Four years ago, when he showed up here in the middle of the night and blackmailed me.”

“He came here?”

“The same day you visited him at Tuxedo Park.”

She tried to process his words through a haze of static.

“You shouldn’t have involved him, princess.”

His voice was deceptively smooth, but his eyes were seething.

She licked suddenly dry lips. “You left me no choice.”

“I never thought I’d see the day that you ran to the man I freed you from.”

She felt the blood leech from her face.

“Your father tortured and publicly humiliated you every chance he got. He banished you to the country and left you in boarding schools to keep you out of the spotlight because you didn’t fit the Hennessy image.”

“Stop.”

“He treated you like an outsider, a nuisance. He never mentioned you unless he was asked directly if he had another daughter—”

“Shut up!”

“You finished your master’s degree to please him, and he sabotaged every chance you made to use it. Even after he disowned you, you tried to be a good daughter and see him in the hospital. But, no matter how ill he was, he always remembered to have you barred from his room. That’s the man you ran to and begged for help to be rid of me?”

She whirled away. He was still talking, still railing at her, but she couldn’t hear anything over the sound of her heartbeat. She had to get away. When a hand clamped on her shoulder and swung her around, she lost her slippery grip on her temper. Roth jerked back before her fist connected with his face and used her momentum to force her against the counter. He boxed her in by plastering his front to her back.

“I gave up everything for you, yet one fuck up, and you demand a divorce? You refuse to talk to me and run to the bastard who gave you nothing your whole life?”

“Don’t talk about my father!”

“How are you going to stop me?” he taunted as she did her best to get free, but ended up bruising her legs against the lower cabinets instead. “I can say whatever I want about your precious father. After all, I know him best. You and your sisters have no clue who he really was.”

“I could say the same about you!” She pushed back, only to have him press her more firmly against the counter so it cut into her waist.

“You’re beginning to see the real me. My mother thinks she saw the worst of me, but what I am now is nothing compared to the child she wanted to lock up. And you know why, princess?” He ignored the way she clawed the sleek surface, tried to stomp his feet, and reared back in an attempt to break his nose. “Your father taught me every lesson I’d need to bring the world to its knees and make me your worst nightmare. Fighting is useless. You won’t win.”

His jeer made her lose her head. She lunged for the knife block and managed to snatch an eight-inch chef’s knife before Roth pinned her wrist to the counter.

“Let it go.”

Her fingers tightened around the cold hilt.

He nuzzled her. “Want to stab me, Jasmine?”

The blade vibrated as she strained against his hold. Sunlight reflected off the hammered finish.

“You think you have what it takes to take someone’s life?”

“Let me go, and we’ll find out together,” she ground out.

He squeezed her wrist. She let out an enraged bellow as her hand loosened around the blade. He brought her wrists to her chest and bear hugged her from behind.

“You don’t think I’d make it that easy, do you?” he whispered darkly before he sank his teeth into her shoulder. 

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

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