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“I’m not hungry.”
He didn’t argue with her, but left the kitchen with the pictures tucked securely under his arm. She muttered under her breath as she tidied up the island, which she had claimed as a makeshift office. She wrapped the cords, sorted papers, and stacked savagely. She ground her teeth when he reappeared in the doorway.
“It’s necessary, Jasmine.”
“I don’t want my family involved in our shit.”
“They’re a part of it, whether they want to be or not. I met with your sisters today.”
Her head snapped up. “Why?”
“Business.”
Roth was keeping up his end of the deal. That’s all that mattered, right? “Did they say anything about what happened?”
“No.”
He’s a master strategist, always one step ahead of everyone else. He’ll wait years before he makes a move, and when he executes, he never makes a mistake.She was seeing the evidence of Roth’s mastery in action. What happened at Tuxedo Park should have destroyed his plan, but it was still intact. Why? Because he checkmated each of them, backing them into a corner, using their weaknesses against them. Neither Colette nor Ariana would rock the boat, and the one person who had the guts to go against Roth wouldn’t do it because she asked him not to. How had Roth known she would be able to dissuade Lyle when Colette couldn’t?
“What are you going to do to me, Roth?” She had no doubt he had plans for her. He probably started scheming the moment she walked out on him.
He raised a brow. “Do to you?”
“You know what I mean.”
His eyes moved over her thoughtfully before he said, “Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged. “You’ll see.”
If he thought that sounded reassuring, he was far off the mark. “What if Lyle hires a private investigator to look into your background anyway?”
“There’s nothing there. Don’t worry about it.”
She frowned. “If there’s nothing there, how did my dad uncover your secret?”
His eyes glinted as he polished off the last of his wine. “Luck.”
“If Dad discovered it, someone else will too.”
“Let me worry about that.” He gave her a politely inquiring look. “Any progress on your book?”
If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead at that moment. Only he would think it was possible to write through the shit storm he put her through this week. She turned her back on him and continued to organize her mess.
“I have a trip tomorrow.”
Good. She needed some peace and quiet.
“Pack a bag.”
Her stack of notebooks toppled over as she swung around. “What?”
“You travel with me now.”
“I’m busy!”
“I’ll be in meetings most of the time. You can work then.”
