What was even more absurd was the memory that surfaced unbidden—all those things Ivor had said when he was courting her.
He'd told her he loved her resilience, her decisiveness. That she was the only woman in Harbor City who could stand at his side as an equal.
Now she wanted to ask: what had he actually loved?
Had he loved her status as the Henson family's eldest daughter? Loved that her connections and cunning could clear every obstacle from the Sanchez family's path to total dominance over Harbor City?
Or had he loved Nellie's clinging fragility, the way her helplessness fed his need for control?
Maybe neither.
Maybe he had never loved anyone but himself.
Jocelyn's eyes burned. She felt a pang of regret for the years she had wasted.
"Ivor, do you know something? If it weren't for you, I'd have no reason to go after her at all."
Ivor heard the words, and the rigid line of his jaw relaxed a fraction. He actually believed she was backing down.
He sighed, his tone shifting to something patronizing, almost soothing. "Jocelyn, you grew up in this world. Name one powerful man who doesn't have a few women around him."