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“The Baldwin’s are my problem.”

“You don’t have any problems. That’s my job.”

“Why do you care how anyone treats me?” She was honestly bewildered. “You’ve done far worse.”

Tucker Baldwin publicly ridiculed her while Warren shredded her childish beliefs about her parents and identity, but both of those things paled in comparison to the pain Roth dished out over and over again. He’d gaslighted and conned her for years, hiding a vasectomy from her, hiding his success from her, leading her on with a promise of a future he knew she’d do anything for. It was all a game to him. He had no intention of fulfilling any promise he’d made to her. He was cruel beyond measure. The only man he equaled in the art of emotional manipulation was her father.

Something rippled across Roth’s face, a series of emotions that finally settled on the one he was most comfortable with—anger.

“I care what people say to you, Jasmine,” he rumbled.

“You can’t control what people say to me. You can’t control how they look at me and whisper behind my back. I told you I’ve never been accepted in society despite being a Hennessy.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Lyle told Tucker that would be the last social event he’d be invited to. It’s done.”

She felt the pulse of his anger even with her back to him.

“He hurt you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re fine,” he repeated in a dead voice. “That’s why you’re trembling, bruised, and slapped me.”

She pivoted to face him with her hands balled into fists. “I’m shaking because I’m exhausted from spending all day prepping for an event you sprung on me with no warning. An event of I’ve been dreaming of since I was a little girl. An event I never thought I’d attend.” Her eyes filled with tears. “And just like Dad, you realized I didn’t belong.”

He opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“I did my best.” When tears trickled down her cheeks, she angrily dashed them away. “You might find this hard to believe, but some people actually seemed to like me.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” he said softly.

“I made friends with Charlotte Trentham and almost danced with a former President. I touched cheeks with a princess and got so many invitations…”

When her voice broke, he took a step toward her, hand outstretched, but she leapt back.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare.”

She was breathing hard. She tried to tamp down the emotional storm that wanted to rage.

“When we first got together, I told you about the panic attacks I had before social functions. I told you how relieved I was that I wouldn’t have to circulate in society anymore and you shoved me back in, knowing how much I hated it and that I’ve never been up to par. I warned you, didn’t I?”

“Jasmine.”

“I may not have been perfect, but what could have been an enjoyable night was ruined by you and a bunch of other assholes who won’t let me forget that I don’t belong and never will. Now, all I want is some downtime and you’re pushing me around, badgering me, and shouting at me when I did what you wanted. Fuck you, Roth. You deserve that slap and a whole lot more.”

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

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