Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
R oth’s emotions, usually hidden behind an apathetic mask, were on full display, startling Jasmine into dialing back her own anger.
“You said we wouldn’t fight,” she said quietly, hoping her even tone would mollify him.
“We won’t if you tell me who the fuck you belong to.”
Her recent vow to avoid confrontation at all costs fell by the wayside at his crass demand. She lifted her chin, and her hands balled into fists at her sides. He catalogued every move without taking his eyes off hers.
“I told you last night, I’m through with you denying me my place. If I want to touch you, if I want to kiss you and fuck you, I will.”
To prove his point, he backed her up to the counter and effortlessly boosted her on top of it. Before she could get away, he yanked her to the edge and spread her legs.
“No!” She shoved at him, only to have her hands pinned behind her back a second before he ducked his head to get at her neck.
He latched onto that spot that short-circuited her brain and made her pliant, weak, and stupid. She wriggled and strained in his hold even though she knew it was wasted effort.
“You’re a bastard,” she panted as her thighs clamped around his hips, unintentionally dragging him closer, so his crotch aligned perfectly with her tingling flesh.
He kept at it until she was boneless; until her head listed back like a flower on a broken stem. Her neck was throbbing pleasantly when he finally released her lax hands. She stared at the ceiling through half-closed eyes as his mouth moved along her throat and lapped at the base of her neck.
“Why am I allowed to mark you, dress you, keep you locked in this penthouse with me where no one can get to you?”
She was so focused on her pulsing skin that it took a few seconds to register his gruff words. He collared her throat, raising her to face his livid gaze.
“Whose cock do you come on?” He squeezed her throat ever so slightly as he brushed a kiss over her parted lips. “Whose ring are you wearing? Who’s protecting your sisters from ruin?”
Her natural inclination to spit in his face was tempered by the strange glint in his eye and his utter stillness, which raised the hairs on her nape. When he got her out of bed, he’d seemed cool and collected. When she splashed him with her bathwater, he’d taken it in stride. But something had shifted. She could taste the threat of violence in the air. He was barely holding himself in check.
“You want to fight me on something? This isn’t it,” he warned. “Who did you choose to give it all up to? Who owns you?”
She swallowed hard and whispered, “You do.”
He didn’t drop the hand around her throat. “I what?”
He wanted her to say it, the bastard. Again, the need to fight fire with fire rose, but Jasmine shoved her emotions aside and focused on the unnatural glint in his eye that promised retribution if she didn’t heed him in this. If she defied him, he’d punish her, and the cycle she was trying to break would start all over again. She felt a slight tremor in his hand as his control wavered.
Pride be damned.
“You own me.”
“And who am I?”
For a moment, she didn’t understand what he was asking, and then it hit her. Her eyes unfocused as his lips slid over her cold cheek.
“Who am I, princess?”
“My husband.” Her voice was hoarse with strain. She wasn’t sure why that label was so significant, but it was, and they both knew it. She wore his ring and bore his name once more, but she hadn’t claimed him. And he’d noticed. She called him anything but the label he once had. It helped keep their arrangement in perspective, but he was trampling through her boundary lines, muddying and confusing everything, as usual.
“Look at me.”
Her jaw set. He didn’t allow her any space. Physical, emotional, mental. He was constantly pressuring her, so she couldn’t think straight. Aggravated brown eyes met those of a pitiless warrior.
“Again.”
Her body tensed to rebel against the submission he was demanding, but her mind knew she wouldn’t win. It made the decision for her.
“You’re my husband.”
He massaged her nape, rewarding her. “And you’re the only woman I’ve ever envisioned as my wife.”
Before she could process that, he kissed her.
He started slow, teasing. His ability to switch from domineering, possessive psycho to indulgent lover left Jasmine mentally reeling. When she tried to turn away, the hand on the back of her neck tightened, holding her still as the kiss deepened. He leaned into her, pressing his hard body against her soft curves. His fingers tunneled into her hair and tugged hard enough to make her protest, allowing his tongue to invade and duel with hers. His hunger swamped her, heating her blood, emptying her mind. When he gripped her thigh, they began to spread in offering, which snapped her out of the sexual fog. She wrenched her mouth from his and buried her face in his chest.
She could hear his heart thudding and felt the coiled tension in him. She knew he wanted to expel it in the only way they knew how to resolve things. When he tried to ease back, she wrapped her arms around him and whispered, “Please.”
She sensed him battling his flesh and ran her hands over his muscled back, hoping to pacify and distract. He stiffened with rejection, but a minute later, he relaxed into her. She rested her cheek against his still damp shirt as his hands moved up her sides.
“You found your new clothes.”
The mundane topic eased her raw nerves. “You hired a personal shopper?”
“I already had one through Grayson. I threatened to fire him when he kept filling my closet with crap I’d never wear. He’s toned it down since then. I told him to contact Daiyu for your measurements. I’m sure he was happier shopping for you than he is for me.”
So, it wasn’t a live-in lover who’d tried to spruce up Roth’s wardrobe. Jasmine didn’t like the spurt of relief that loosened the knots in her chest.
“He went overboard,” she said.
“In what way?”
“I’m never going to wear those gowns.”
“You will. I’m cutting back on travel, but we’ll return for events I can’t miss.”
She tensed. “What events?”
“Nothing you can’t handle. You pointed out how many mutual acquaintances we have. I’m sure you’ll know most of the guests at any function we attend.”
The reference to last night’s argument made her straighten. “You never answered my question.” When Roth raised a brow, she prodded his rock-hard pecs. “Why are you doing business with so many of my father’s friends?”
“They’re not friends. They’re colleagues. There’s a difference.”
“William Davies is family to me. I had sleepovers at his house with Penelope and?—”
“They may be an exception, but it’s dangerous to consider these people friends. Maximus strived to keep everything professional. He didn’t allow Colette and Ariana to develop close emotional ties in case they needed to be severed.” He considered her thoughtfully. “Strange that his strict standards didn’t extend to you. He allowed you to develop relationships with his colleague’s children, which has served you well. Those bonds are still intact despite the intervening years. Your sisters haven’t maintained many relationships beyond the boardroom.”
Jasmine refrained from pointing out that Roth didn’t have any relationships in or outside of work, but he was speaking freely, and she needed answers. “Out of the thousands you could do business with, why them?” she asked doggedly.
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached behind her to fix the hood of her jacket, which must have been in some disarray to set off his OCD.
“Your grandfather created a tight-knit global network. Each person was strategically picked for their industry, location, and other criteria that helped your family maintain their position at the top. Your father refined that organization into a weapon with the power to sway economies and governments.”
His hands slid beneath her jacket to caress her bare skin. Jasmine hated the liberties he was taking but was leery of interrupting him as he divulged insider knowledge he’d never shared in all the time she’d known him.
“When Maximus’s health declined, your sisters neglected those ties, leaving an opening for me to get my foot in the door. I didn’t have the resources, influence, or pedigree the Davies and the Wus required to do business with them. Grayson’s connections helped, but that wasn’t enough. I had to prove myself in other ways.”
Her pulse skipped. “What ways?” She felt a draft on her abdomen as the jacket shifted so he could cup her right breast.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” she challenged, valiantly fighting the urge to slap his kneading hand.
“My business dealings don’t concern you.”
She arched into his palm as her back went ramrod straight. “Just as it doesn’t concern me that Colette made bad business decisions that allowed you to become the majority shareholder of Hennessy & Co.? I wouldn’t be here if the company weren’t in such dire straits!”
“Don’t kid yourself. We still would have ended up here.”
A nipple swipe left her grinding her teeth. There was no way in hell she would have given Roth the time of day after he called her a whore. If Colette hadn’t gone into premature labor from stress, Jasmine would have barricaded herself at Tuxedo Park and let the world burn while she finished her book. But that was a moot point, and there were more important things to discuss.
“These people who made you prove yourself... are they included in those you’ve sworn revenge on, who ran you out of the States?”
He didn’t respond. He just stared at her with that stony gaze that told her absolutely nothing.
She twisted his shirt in her hand. “If you’re planning to fuck over the Davies or Baldaccis?—”
“I have no reason to fuck them over at the moment.”
That wasn’t quite the reassurance she was looking for, but it would have to do. “Your vendetta...”
“Doesn’t include your friends here. Your father’s cronies in New York are a different matter.”
“But—”
His hand left her breast as he stepped back and ran it through his hair in an uncustomary display of irritation. “You never learned how to separate business from personal. You’re too idealistic and noble to see things as they are.”
“And you’re too closed-minded and cynical to see what could be,” she retorted. “Most of these people—William Davies, Frederick, Charon—I assume they’re a part of this elite fraternity you’re talking about. These relationships aren’t just based on power and financial gain but trust and longevity. They’re good people, not pawns to play with and then discard when you feel they’ve served their purpose.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Sometimes, I wish you didn’t know so much about this world. It makes things more complicated than it needs to be.”
She tipped her nose in the air. “Most men would be relieved their partner understands enough about the business world that they don’t embarrass them in society.”
“It’s impossible to embarrass me.” His gaze tracked over her face as he said, “You’re fond of men who are monsters behind closed doors. You have no clue what they’re capable of. I don’t know whether it’s a blessing or a curse that they’re just as fond of you. It’s allowed you to navigate society relatively unscathed.” His eyes met hers. “It seems you have a talent for beckoning out the shred of humanity they possess. It’s not easy, witnessing the effect you have on others.”
“Effect?” she echoed, bewildered. “Who?—”
“Guy Reed.”
It took her a moment to place the name. When she did, she scoffed. “You aren’t serious. The spoiled brat who sold his father’s company is a monster behind closed doors?”
“Not yet, but when he runs through his fortune and turns to making money the easy way, he could be.” His eyes narrowed. “And you captured his interest.”
She rolled her eyes as she slipped off the counter. “Because he found out I’m a Hennessy.”
“You captured his attention because you made a fool of him,” Roth corrected. “There aren’t many women who can, and even fewer who’d dare to put someone like him in his place.”
“He deserved it.”
When he stared at her, arms crossed, she copied him.
“What does Guy have to do with anything? I’ll never see him again.”
“No, you won’t,” he agreed. “But he isn’t the only one. There’s Matthew, Lincoln, Preston, and Julius, to name a few.”
She blinked. “What about them?”
“They danced attendance on you at Maximus’s funeral. They fetched you drinks, handed you tissues, and you were seen with Julius the following day.”
Jasmine was having trouble keeping up with this odd line of questioning. Those hellish weeks after her dad died were a blur of grief and loneliness. “Julius showed up at my apartment the day after the funeral to see if I was okay. I didn’t invite him in, because my place was a mess. I suggested we go out for coffee. How was I supposed to know there were paparazzi hanging around? It turned out to be good press for him, since it deflected from his messy divorce, but it was hell for me. The speculation that I wanted to be a politician’s wife...” She shuddered. “He apologized for the circus that followed.”
“Which is why you retreated to Tuxedo Park, where you had dinner with Matthew later that week.”
“His estate is five minutes away, and he called to...” She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you didn’t have access to Tuxedo Park.”
“Things changed once Maximus died.”
Had a member of her security team defected after her father passed, or had one of the local guards become a snitch? The fact her whereabouts could be passed on to anyone willing to pay the price sent a chill down Jasmine’s spine. If her former security coordinator, Sunny, suspected any of her bodyguards could be bought, she would have dismissed them immediately. How did Roth react when the snitch reported that she’d disappeared, only for him to discover her in Colorado? How different would things be if she hadn’t made that impulsive trip to visit Kaia?
“You went to a high-profile 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 was meeting Dad and Preston was there. He had this brand new, flashy orange McLaren. He asked me to come for a ride.” Her mouth curved into a fond smile at the memory of his boyish excitement. “It was a beautiful day, so Preston 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 engaged to some royal,” Roth 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 filed for divorce and was having trouble finding a date who wouldn’t get the wrong idea. Dad was attending since he was one of the major donors and when he heard about Lincoln’s dilemma, he used that to pressure me to go. I wouldn’t have done such a public event for anyone else, but Lincoln’s such a sweet guy.”
There was a pregnant pause before Roth said, “You expect me to believe all these instances where you were photographed with these men were spontaneous and platonic?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. What else would they be? We’ve known each other all our lives.”
“They’ve never seen you as a friend.”
Her brows came together. “Of course they do.”
“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.”
“I don’t understand.”
“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 Ford offered?—”
“Don’t say his name.”
She ignored the edge in his voice. “None of them have given any indication they’re interested in me that way.”
“You must have overlooked their subtle, well-mannered passes since they’re such gentlemen.” 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, Jasmine ran through her interactions with her childhood playmates, trying to see them through a different lens. A year ago, Matthew bought an estate in Tuxedo Park after his wife died from breast cancer. Maximus had invited him to dinner. She’d thought it was odd, since her father wasn’t known for his hospitality, but assumed they were doing business together. Matthew continued to drop by periodically. She saw it as him being neighborly. But now that she pondered it, Thea just so happened to have a meal prepared and her father chose those days to visit the city…
As for Lincoln, he extended several invites after the charity event, but she turned him down. Being seen with him just once caused enough speculation and gossip to remind her why she avoided society.
And Julius... They’d never been particularly close, but after the funeral, he called every week, showing a level of empathy Jasmine never knew he possessed. She declined his offers to take her for a drive or for dinner 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 Roth’s 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.”
Her mouth sagged before she got a hold of herself. “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 came out of hiding and visited him at Tuxedo Park.”
She tried to process his words through a haze of static.
“You shouldn’t have involved him, princess.” Roth’s voice was gentle, but his eyes were seething.
Jasmine licked her suddenly dry lips. “You left me no choice.”
“I never thought I’d see the day you would run 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 ban you 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. When he grabbed 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 box her against the counter and crowded her from behind.
“I gave up everything for you, yet one fuckup and you demand a divorce?” he hissed into her hair. “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 she ended up bruising her legs against the lower cabinets instead. “I can say whatever I want about your precious father. After all, I knew him best. You and your sisters have no clue who he really was.”
“I could say the same about you!”
“There was still hope for me before Maximus came into my life, but what he put me through made it impossible for me to be the good guy. To survive I had to be ten times more aggressive and ruthless than him. He taught me how to manipulate, control, and demolish anyone who got in my way. Thanks to him, I know how to bring the world to its knees.” When she pushed back, he leaned into her, so the counter cut painfully into her waist. “Your father couldn’t beat me. What makes you think you can?”
His jeer made her lose her head. There was nothing on the countertop aside from a fancy knife block. Jasmine lunged for it and managed to snag an eight-inch chef’s knife before Roth seized her wrist.
“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 end someone’s life?”
“Let me go, and we’ll find out together,” she spat.
He squeezed her wrist, grinding muscle and bone, until her hand loosened around the blade. She let out an enraged bellow as it clattered to the counter. Roth brought her wrists to her chest before he bear-hugged her from behind.
“You don’t think I’d make it that easy, do you?” he whispered darkly, and then he sank his teeth into her shoulder.