Roth interrogation

On the ride back to 432 Park Ave after the Trentham Ball. **Edited to cut out spoilers.

She managed to blot out her surroundings so successfully that Roth’s fingers on her cheek made her jerk away violently. She knocked her head hard enough against the window for Mo to take his eyes off the road. 

“What the fuck?” Roth hissed. “Did someone touch you?”

“No!” she shouted and shoved at him. “Just leave me alone! I’m fine. I told you, I had a panic attack—” 

“You lied.”

“So have you,” she retorted as she rubbed her throbbing skull and glanced out the window to gauge how far they were from 432 Park Avenue. Too far.  

“What have I lied about?”

That he was going to try to be better. That he wasn’t going to hurt her anymore. 

“Jasmine.”

His gentle tone savaged her insides. 

“Who upset you?”

“What does it matter?” 

“It matters to me.”

“Then you should have listened to me when I said I didn’t want to go!” she exploded, voice amplified in the soundproof interior. 

Anger was the easiest emotion to deal with, so she embraced it wholeheartedly as she focused on him, eyes burning with tears she refused to let fall. “Did you think we would be welcomed? That everyone would forget our past and not say a word?”

“Yes.”

No hesitation. His arrogance knew no bounds. “You’re wrong.”

His handed landed on her thigh and squeezed. “Tell me.”

She slapped his paw. He eased his grip, but didn’t release her. “It’s done.”

“I didn’t take you there so people could insult you.”

“Why did you?”

He reached for her face and was ready this time when she tried to jerk away. He moved quickly, clasping her face with both hands and following, so he ended up crouched over her as she slumped against the door. His eyes glittered in the blazing light from storefront windows on E 62nd Street.

“I took you because you’re my wife and everyone will acknowledge you as such, including you.” His hold tightened when she struggled. “Everyone will treat you with respect or answer to me.” He stroked away a tear that slipped out of the corner of her eye. “Tell me who hurt you, princess, and I’ll destroy them.”

 “I dealt with it.” Her voice was a mere thread of sound, but the quiet interior allowed him to hear her.

“It’s not your job to deal with it. It’s mine.”

It was tempting to lean on him, to have him take on even more of her shit, but she had learned her lesson. 

“Talk to me.”

Hearing that from him was laughable after the way he ordered her to attend the Trentham Ball this morning.

“What made you sick?”

She huddled down even further in a bid to get away from him and the question. 

“Did Warren hurt you?”

“He didn’t touch me.” 

“That isn’t what I asked.”

Another tear escaped as she looked up at him. “You’re going to go after him for hurting my feelings?”

“Do you want me to?”

She closed her eyes. “You have enough enemies.”

“Enemies are more motivating than friends.”

She opened her eyes, searching his face. “Is that a joke?”

“No.”

“Oh.” 

She knew the instant his patience snapped. She was suddenly flat on her back with him over her, his knee between her thighs. He swooped down so they were eye to eye. “Tell me what happened, or I swear I’ll—”

“What?” she cut in. “You’ll fire me? Good. That’ll put both of us out of our misery.”

His face took on a dangerous cast as his hand went to her throat and gripped. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“Boss.”

Johan’s warning came a second before the door opened. She had an upside-down view of the valet at 432 Park Avenue. The man’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he found Roth on top of her. 

“Sir?” the man said in a strangled voice as he debated whether to close the door. 

The man stepped back as Roth climbed off her with enviable cool. As usual, Roth didn’t seem to care about being caught in a compromising situation that would normally have someone calling the cops. 

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

Roth's really turning into the "touch her and die" trope. I'm not mad about it. Lol. 

This passage may seem a little rough. I had to take bits and pieces of dialogue and mesh them together to make a cohesive scene, but I wanted to give you an idea of the aftermath of the Trentham Ball.