Page 41 of Bitter Heat

She made a face as she got caught in her lie. She debated whether to tell the truth and then remembered the paparazzi downstairs. They ruined everything. Now she was going to have to tell her family about Roth, which wasn’t going to go over well. She flicked her makeup brush irritably.

“That was James,” she said casually, hoping Sunny wouldn’t recognize his first name.

Less than two seconds later, she heard, “JamesRoth?”

Sunny had been around her father long enough to know that name very well. She sighed as she applied mascara. “Yeah.”

Sunny wasn’t leaning on the wall anymore. She was standing straight and on high alert.

“I visited his mother in Colorado. She had a heart attack while I was there. Roth brought her back to New York to care for her while she recovers,” she said as she chose a deep red matte lipstick.

“And he answered your phone?” Sunny asked carefully.

“He insisted I ride back with them.” She rose and avoided Sunny’s dissecting gaze as she went to the closet. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

After Sunny left, she blew out a long breath. Sunny could put two and two together. The injuries weren’t from a BDSM resort, but Roth, which made her a cliché to hook up with her ex. Hell. She went to her closet and dug out a black dress with a high collar and pulled on thigh high boots and added some accessories. The paparazzi were here for a shot, so she’d give them one that hopefully overshadowed the one with Roth. She grabbed one of the few designer bags she still owned and a coat before she walked into the living room.

The guards immediately got to their feet. She didn’t say a word as she walked to the door. They congregated around her, and this time when she faced the paparazzi, she kept her head high and hoped they got a much better photo. The sun was setting as she ducked into an SUV and settled beside Sunny who talked into her earpiece. She texted Lyle that she was on her way and prepared to face her sisters who she hadn’t seen since the funeral.

What should have taken ten minutes with no traffic took close to forty. She climbed from the SUV in front of Hennessy Tower, a glass building that spiraled toward the sky. Sunny and two guards accompanied her, but there was no need since the staff didn’t allow the paparazzi within fifteen feet of anyone entering the building. There were a few flashes from the dejected paparazzi, but nothing compared to the circus at her apartment. The workers of Hennessy Tower inclined their heads as she passed through the revolving door and crossed the massive lobby. The elevator operator acknowledged her with a smile before he selected the top floor.

The elevator opened into an entryway that rivaled the Sistine Chapel guarded by several security guards who stepped aside for her. She passed a mini waterfall and koi pond before she rounded the corner and faced the grand living room. It was everything one would expect from a home worth upward of fifty million. A white piano sat in the corner of the room along with expensive art on the walls. The cream furniture trimmed in gold was custom, as was everything in the two-story penthouse inhabited by Colette, Lyle, and their housekeeper and cook. Everyone lounging in front of the golden hearth turned their heads as she paused on the threshold.

“Aunty Minnie!”

Two children ran toward her. She knelt and fell back on her butt as Bailey and Kye hurtled themselves at her.

“Uncle Lyle says you’re in trouble,” Bailey whispered in her ear.

“What’s new?” she whispered back.

Bailey bugged out her eyes, which were the same icy blue as her mother’s. “Are you going to get a time-out?”

“Maybe,” she said gravely and then patted the butt of the little boy who was clinging to her. “How’s my boy?”

“Miss you,” he said against her neck.

Her heart melted. She rose with Kye in her arms and faced a formidable jury eyeing her with varying degrees of disapproval. Her sisters, Colette and Ariana, stood side by side. She was taller than average at five foot seven, but small in comparison to her sisters who towered over her at six feet. They were blonde bombshells with glacial blue eyes. The resemblance between them was uncanny, considering they had different mothers.

Colette was ten years her senior and detached, rigid, and unbending—the female version of their father. She was the CEO of Hennessy & Co and had flourished in the role she had been groomed for since birth. Maximus paired Colette with Lyle Caruso, a brilliant hedge fund manager and passionate Italian. Colette and Lyle were a New York power couple frequently featured on magazine covers. They had been married over a decade, so she figured Colette wasn’t as frigid between the sheets as she appeared in her everyday life. They nearly divorced last year when Colette refused to have kids, but she had given in once she was reminded of the marriage contract. It was about legacies, after all, and not love.

Colette wore a white coat dress with gold buttons along the front of it and a black belt high around her swollen belly. Despite being six months pregnant and in her own home, she was still wearing heels after a long day. Colette was a stickler for formality, just like their father. It was one of the reasons Jasmine had taken the time to make herself presentable. Lyle, on the other hand, wore black slacks and a shirt with no tie. His head was shaved on the sides while he left the top long and slicked back.

Her other sister, Ariana, was eight years older than her and the COO of Hennessy & Co. Ariana was just as intelligent as Colette but had softened after having Bailey and Kye. Their father, Rami Khan, was a brilliant software mogul. He was a quiet man but no less powerful than the others in the room. He wore a sweater vest and had gold Harry Potter glasses perched on his nose.

“Sorry I’m late,” she announced.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Colette said.

She doubted it but kept that thought to herself.

“What the hell, Minnie?” Lyle snapped.

“What?” she asked as Ariana shot him a severe look for his language.

“What are you doing with Roth?” Lyle demanded.

The smile fell from her lips. “What are you talking about?”

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