Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
T here was a strange roaring sound in her ears, as if she’d been shoved underwater. Her limbs went weightless, and her chest seized, but she didn’t fight the paralysis—she let it consume her.
He’d just confirmed her worst fear.
All the signs had been there—his anger and resentment, his takeover of Hennessy in the way he held her to him almost desperately as he tried to prolong the harmony that existed between their bodies.
To disrupt the connection before he reached her soul, she reached down to rub her clit, focusing on herself instead of him. But he wouldn’t be ignored. He brushed her hand aside and took over the job—and truth be told, he was better at it than she was. Within a minute, her breathing had quickened, and she was moving urgently. She let out a loud moan and lifted her head to look at their reflection and caught his smoldering gaze.
When he surged to his feet, she sat up, bemused, and gave a muffled shout when he pulled her hoodie over her head. He yanked her to her feet and ushered her forward. She gasped when he plastered her naked body against the cold metal doors of the elevator. While she was trying to adjust to the shock, he pinned her hands over her head and began to fuck her.
“You’re not leaving me,” he ground out. “It took years of planning, tens of millions in Hennessy & Co. stock, and my mother’s heart attack to bring us here. This .” He shoved himself so deep, she screamed. “This is the closest I’ll ever get to heaven. I’m not giving you up. You hear me?”
She couldn’t concentrate on his words, much less respond. She was still swollen and sore from last night. The pleasure-pain was excruciating, but it was worth it, because... Yes—right there . He was hitting that spot that made her lose her ever-loving mind. She clawed slick metal, and when her head arched back, her lips were captured by his. He groaned as she shuddered against him.
“My turn.”
He took a step back to bend her over at the waist. She obliged and pressed her cheek to the elevator as he gripped her hips, so he didn’t smash her into the unforgiving doors. She closed her eyes and embraced the carnal distraction that gave her emotions a much-needed reprieve.
When he came, he hauled her back, so she took every drop of him before he slumped over her. He stroked her damp skin before placing kisses along her spine.
When he moved away, she stayed in place, panting against the door, not ready to face whatever came next. She looked over her shoulder as he cleaned her and straightened when she saw he was using her Burberry bottoms. Before he could do anything to her hoodie, she slipped back into it. Roth tucked his shirt and zipped his pants as she stared down at her smeared sweats. Had he done it on purpose? How was she going to leave now? She wasn’t going to waltz through the lobby in stained jogging pants or in a hoodie that barely covered her cooch.
“Are you going to look at me?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at the elevator, now smudged from their bodies being pressed against it. “Nothing’s changed.”
“Everything’s changed. Give me a chance to make this up to you.”
“You can’t tell me you married me to punish me and expect sex to make it better. I’m breaking our contract.”
“We have to move past this.”
“That’s what I’m doing!”
“Running away isn’t solving it.”
“There’s nothing to salvage from this disaster.”
“I don’t agree.”
When he said nothing more, she glanced at him to find him looking at her bare bottom half. His eyes were dark and hungry.
“You’re still dripping.”
She pressed her thighs together and tugged on her jacket even though it wouldn’t sufficiently cover her. “That’s your fault.”
“Not all of it. You were wet before I even touched you.”
When he started toward her, she held up a hand.
“Stop, Roth.” Of course, he didn’t listen to her. She retreated as she racked her brain for a way out of this. “I don’t want this! I just want to live a quiet life. I want to be happy. I deserve to be happy and so do you.”
When she backed into a wall, she tried to change direction, but she wasn’t quick enough. He planted his hands on either side of her.
“You don’t think I can make you happy?” Her dumbfounded expression made his eyes narrow. “When were you happiest?”
She opened her mouth.
“Be honest,” he ordered.
Her mouth closed. They stared at one another as painful memories shimmered in the air between them. Slowly, she shook her head.
“It wasn’t real,” she said hoarsely.
He closed his eyes before he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. “It was as real for you as it was for me. I gave you the best of me when I visited—more than I’ve given anyone. Back then, I couldn’t put you first. I couldn’t even put myself first, but today is different.”
“We’re not the same people. Too much has happened. Too much awful?—”
“I know we can’t go back to what we had, but I’ll take the imitation, the charade, over nothing.”
The anger and longing in his tone shredded her insides. Her nails sank into her palms as she tried to stand her ground. “Roth?—”
“Once, you gave up everything to be with me. Now, you’re willing to give up everything to get away.” He stroked her cheek as he stared into her eyes. “Let me make up for the past. Let me give you what I promised I would when I’d made it.”
Her eyes watered. “I can’t take the chance. I don’t have anything left.”
“Let me fill you up.” One hand coasted down her side. “Take what you need from me. Money, my resources... Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Perhaps you’re talking about this.”
His wandering hand stroked her mound before his middle finger speared her.
“When it comes to this, I’m yours to command.”
“You’re talking about sex,” she said through clenched teeth as he massaged her so the remnants of him dripped down her thighs.
“I’m talking about everything,” he bit out. “I want you to want me without feeling guilty about it. Having you take my cock, listening to you moan my name... Nothing compares. I’d pay millions for the privilege—and I have. I’ll pay whatever it costs to have the ghost of the girl who jumped in my arms at her graduation, who couldn’t get enough of me, and who made me believe I could be someone else, someone better.” His hand left her pussy and cupped her ass. “Give me this year.”
She twisted her hand in his shirt as she fought the magnetic pull between them.
“You want to live a safe, quiet life, but you were groomed to rule. You have the skills, knowledge, and experience to wreak havoc in society if you choose.” His voice dropped, deepened. “You were born to be on the arm of a man like me. A man who can fulfill your desires, even the unspoken ones you try to hide. There will still be times when business takes precedence, but I can make allowances. I can cut out time to...”
She eyed him incredulously as he struggled to name a single activity that didn’t involve work. “You’re hopeless.”
He scowled. “What do couples do besides fuck?”
“ Normal couples go on dates, travel, cuddle, and share their hopes and dreams.” The thought of him doing any of those things was ludicrous. “Roth, I don’t think…”
He put his lips to her ear. “I can do this. Let me prove it to you.”
She turned her face away in a desperate bid for sanity as his energy swamped her, making it hard to think sensibly. She couldn’t let him persuade her into continuing this mad charade. She had to?—
“I’m going to get what I want from you.”
Her head swung around. He stared at her with implacable, unblinking obsidian eyes.
“I’m not going to let you slip through my fingers when I have you where I want you.” He gripped her butt. “You’re pissed at me for manipulating you? For being an asshole? Make me pay for it. Take advantage of me.”
“What?”
He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers and growled, “Use me.”
Why that made her womb clench, she had no idea.
“Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
She tensed. “Anything?”
At her tone, he straightened and eyed her intently. “You know my limits.”
“I want to see the evidence you have on my family,” she blurted.
He drew back, obviously taken aback by her request. When he didn’t move, she clutched his arm.
“Roth?”
“The files are in my office.”
She gasped when he picked her up. Automatically, her arms went around his neck and her legs around his waist as he cupped her bare ass.
“You disappoint me, princess.”
Her eyes moved from her balled up pants in front of the elevator to his face. “What?”
“You’re going to have to work harder to prove you don’t care what happens to your family.”
She glowered. “I need to see it for myself.”
He set her on her feet in the great room. “Wait here.”
She watched him stride away, more than a little bemused by all that had transpired. She twisted her hands together. She hadn’t agreed to stay, yet he was willing to show her what he’d gathered on her family. Why reveal the evidence and allow her to warn them in advance? There had to be a reason for his compliance, something more he would get out of it than simply pleasing her, but what?
She ran her hand through her tangled hair. This man was driving her crazy. Within twenty minutes, she’d gone from screaming for help to having sex with him. He’d confessed he planned to ruin her, as Kaia had suspected, and somehow managed to brush that bombshell aside and convince her to stay so he could make up for plotting against her. He was unbelievable. She couldn’t stay with him—that was a death sentence or worse. But how could she…
“Here.”
She turned as Roth approached with three thick folders in his arms and a white towel draped over his shoulder.
“Where do you want it?” he asked.
She was taken aback by the size of the files before remembering he’d been watching her family for years. She pointed to the high table with the vase of ruby amaryllis and berry sprigs.
When he set the files on the table, she asked, “What’s…?”
She trailed off as he pressed the edge of the towel between her legs to clean her again. When he was finished, he folded it and placed it on the chair.
“I have some calls to make,” he said gruffly as he stole a kiss. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
She watched him walk away, her mouth slack. His easy compliance was suspicious and a little alarming, but she wasn’t to harp on it when answers were in reach. She should run to the bedroom to get pants, but she was afraid he would change his mind.
She grabbed the first folder with her sister’s full name, Ariana Elise Hennessy-Khan, on the tab. She had no idea what to expect, but the succinct report on an appendectomy Ariana had undergone two years ago wasn’t it. A doctor had prescribed OxyContin and fulfilled the prescription for a whole year, with increased doses, before he cut Ariana off. Jasmine flipped through detailed “observation reports,” which listed dates, times, and even the weather when Ariana had met her dealer. Each report was accompanied by photographs. Ariana’s fashionable dealer looked like a socialite, which was beneficial since they usually met in Midtown or the Upper East Side.
Ariana had scheduled appointments with a therapist and a counselor twice this year. As Roth had mentioned last night, both times Rami had been out of town. Her sister hadn’t seen her therapist since Maximus died. She had, however, made time to meet her dealer last week at Bloomingdales, just a few blocks from Hennessy Tower.
Jasmine shuffled through the most recent photos of her sister, who had no idea a PI... or a team of them, was following her around. It was a gross invasion of privacy, but anyone could have done what Roth had—competitors, the press, even Maximus. According to Roth, her father had shielded her when she walked out of their marriage, so he couldn’t locate her. Did Maximus focus exclusively on her and not her sisters because she was the troubled one? Did he get detailed reports on her that included pictures of the men she brought home? It was one thing for her father to read about her sexcapades in her novels, and quite another for him to have seen her wanton behavior in real life. She was irritated by the mortification that engulfed her, even though it was in the past and Maximus was long gone.
She moved onto Rami Khan’s files and examined the photo clipped inside the cover of his folder. It was a Rami she’d never seen before—lanky, with white short shorts and thick, cracked glasses—squinting at the camera. He couldn’t be older than twelve, with his arm around a much taller boy with a big smile. According to the notes, the picture had been taken in Delhi, where Rami grew up with his friend, Anil. After university, they’d moved to Bengaluru, the IT hub of the country, and started their software company.
Jasmine scanned personal emails between Rami and Anil, which showed a massive difference in ambition and hopes for the future of the company. Rami wanted to move to America’s Silicon Valley, while Anil wanted to stay in India and argued Rami was straying from their initial vision. When they failed to agree on a course for the company, Rami offered to buy Anil out of their company, but he refused.
Anil started another company that was more aligned with his values. Everything seemed to be going well until his backers inexplicably pulled out, forcing Anil to compensate with his own money. Anil’s company went through a barrage of strange misfortunes, with clients breaking contracts, a high employee turnover rate, and an accountant who stole a year’s worth of payroll and disappeared into thin air, leaving Anil in dire financial straits. When he went to the bank for a loan, he was denied.
Anil accused Rami of sabotaging his new company by bribing the backers to desert him, steering employees and clients toward other companies, vouching for the thieving accountant, and making his contacts at the bank deny him a loan. Rami denied these allegations and once again offered to buy Anil out of the company since he needed the money. Again, Anil said no.
Their correspondence became increasingly hostile, but things took a turn when Rami threatened to expose an indiscretion that had taken place five years prior. Refusing to give in to Rami’s blackmail, Anil came clean to his wife, which resulted in her leaving him. Anil’s life continued to spiral as he dealt with break-ins, a car accident, and finally, his daughter being kidnapped.
Jasmine flipped through police reports documenting the kidnap of Anil’s three-year-old, who was snatched in the middle of the night. The kidnappers demanded an exorbitant ten million from a bankrupt man.
Jasmine stared at the last email between what had once been friends as Anil signed over his shares in the company to pay the ransom. No one was arrested for the kidnapping, and the money was never recovered.
Rami moved the company to America the same week Anil gave up his rights. His software was implemented by everyone, from government agencies to online retailers. Within three years of his company going public, he was married to Ariana and living on top of the world... On the surface, at least. Half a dozen reporters tracked down Anil, who confirmed the reason he signed over his shares in the now billion-dollar company was to pay the ransom for his daughter.
Reporters criticized the sloppy police investigation. Three pointed out the odd coincidence that Anil’s only option to save his daughter was to sell his shares in a company where he had an ongoing feud with his business partner. The other three quoted a source who hinted at Rami’s ties to a violent underground organization that was suspected to have carried out the crime and several incidents with rival companies that went under. It was incriminating but circumstantial... aside from the fact not one of the investigative reports made it to publication. Half of the reporters were paid off, two were fired, and Rami bought the newspaper of the most recent investigation before the article could be published.
Jasmine closed Rami’s folder and stared, unseeing, at the view. Under other circumstances, she would have gone onto the terrace and sat in the rare sunshine, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t merge the shy, introverted brother-in-law with the cold-blooded bastard described in this file. They couldn’t be the same person.
Rami had used thugs to kidnap a three-year-old to force his business partner to sell his shares in their company. It sounded insane, but... if it weren’t true, why had he gone to such efforts to keep these articles from being published? The handsome bribe the reporters had accepted was paid from an offshore account. It was logical to assume it was linked to Rami even though there was no paper trail. No one’s reputation would be impacted by these articles except his.
Rami had access to government agency databases and some of the largest online retailers in the world. If he hadn’t paid off the terrorists with money (as Roth suspected), they could cash in on one hell of a lucrative favor in the future. Jasmine’s fingernails rapped on the table. She knew Rami worked in tech, but she had no clue what he actually did or how he’d made his fortune. Now that she was informed, her mind was bursting with questions. Most of this happened long before he ever met Ariana. Had Rami changed once he had children of his own?
She smoothed her hands over her pocket for her phone before remembering she’d left it in the kitchen during their skirmish. It was just as well. It wasn’t like she could ask Ariana if she knew her husband had made his former business partner’s life hell to gain full control of the company. It was unlikely Rami would confide in his wife about something he’d gone to such great lengths to conceal. But if there was the smallest chance Kye and Bailey were at risk, shouldn’t Ariana be informed? Ariana and Rami had a more amicable marriage than Colette and Lyle, but it had still been arranged by her father. Had Maximus dismissed the rumors since the claims were unproven? Jasmine checked the dates on the news articles. Most of the reports had cropped up during Rami’s meteoric rise, but two of them had been made within the past year.
Roth’s succinct rundown last night was an easier pill to swallow than sifting through photographs, reports, and damning emails. She was suddenly grateful she didn’t know Lyle’s secret. “Disillusioned” didn’t begin to describe how she felt. Was there no one in her family she could trust? She looked down at the stack of papers and had the insane urge to burn the evidence, as if that would make this all go away.
How the hell had Roth managed to get his hands on private emails and unpublished articles Rami had gone to great lengths to destroy? Rami was in tech—surely, he could delete what he didn’t want anyone to find. Which proved whoever Roth had employed was able to override what should have been impenetrable software.
She eyed the last folder, which detailed Colette Delphine Hennessy-Caruso’s secrets. She was already acquainted with Colette’s sins, so this shouldn’t be too painful. Her mental bandwidth was almost maxed out, but this might be her only opportunity to get specifics on the deterioration of the company so… She pulled the folder toward her and flipped it open.
Ten pages in, she turned to glare at the hallway where Roth’s office was. How the hell had he acquired reports detailing every business decision Colette had made as CEO since their dad handed her the reins? She muttered under breath as she propped her cheek on her fist and dove in.
Jasmine recognized eighty-five percent of the names and companies Colette had done business with, but a quarter of the way through the pile, she paused. She flipped a few sheets back, a few forward, and paused to study the figures intently. She looked around for something to write with, fetching a notepad off the bookshelf and jotting down some figures, dates, and companies, and froze.
What the hell had Colette been thinking?
She had blindly defended her sister and given her the benefit of the doubt, assuming a few bad deals were responsible for Colette losing control over the company. Not so. Colette had been downright reckless. Why hadn’t Ariana stopped her from taking such a high-risk contract? Sure, if everything had gone in their favor, they would have made a windfall, but they’d nearly lost everything instead. Clearly, Colette had been driven by something other than common sense, statistics, and good counsel. What was she trying to prove?
There was no way their father hadn’t been aware of Colette’s troubles. If he could keep track of Roth in other countries, there was no reason he wouldn’t know his daughter had suffered major losses, especially with so many of his friends being shareholders. Had Maximus lost faith in Colette, and that was why he excluded her from his final trust?
Jasmine had idolized her sisters and seen them as infallible, lethal bombshells who were able to hold their own against hard-nosed tycoons, but now... Now, she could see them for what they really were: human, flawed, prone to mistakes, and all too often, they let their emotions get the better of them.
She sifted through photographs of her sisters at luncheons, Hennessy headquarters, running errands, even attending meetings in other countries. She flipped to the report at the very back of the folder and stared at the date.
Roth’s first report was dated the month he signed the divorce papers.