Chapter 4
Yasmin rested her chin in her palm, lost in thought. The blue neon lights cast a soft glow on her delicate features. Her long lashes trembled, hinting at a fragile beauty. “Who knows? Didn’t everyone say I orchestrated the whole thing? That I forced my way in?” Even after three years of marriage—now ending in divorce—Yasmin still couldn't understand why she'd been “coincidentally” discovered in bed by the Whitmore family elders that night.
“Forget those lunatics!” Brenda’s playful smile returned. “Shall we celebrate your return to single life?”
Upstairs, while the group partied wildly in a VIP lounge, Caleb sat alone, nursing his drink. No one approached him. Gideon Radcliffe finished a phone call and joined him. “There’s a woman downstairs buying drinks for the entire bar to celebrate being single again.”
Caleb remained uninterested, not even glancing up. But the others overheard. “Who? Who is it?” Anyone who could afford such a gesture was likely someone within their social circle.
Gideon, effortlessly refined yet nonchalant, paused before answering, “Brenda Rhodes.”
“What? Brenda and George Howard are getting divorced?” Their curiosity piqued, the group rushed out. As the song ended, the lead singer announced, “Let’s all congratulate this lady’s best friend for escaping the graveyard of marriage! Here’s to her happy single life!”
Brenda’s best friend, also married? It could only be Yasmin. The group turned to Caleb, unsure how to react. He'd already started moving.
Downstairs, Caleb immediately spotted Yasmin. Her halter-neck gown accentuated her graceful neck; even from a distance, her presence commanded attention. Several people had already approached her. She was as popular as ever.
“Caleb, are you… and Yasmin really divorcing?” someone finally asked.
Caleb usually offered a polite but distant smile, a social facade. Tonight, even that was gone. He lit a cigarette and raised his gaze. “Who told you that?” His gaze, though seemingly nonchalant, held unmistakable pressure. The group exchanged nervous glances, no one daring to answer. Wasn't Brenda celebrating for Yasmin? If not Caleb and Yasmin…who else?
Caleb sent a text, then leaned against the railing, watching with composed patience. Moments later, Yasmin stood, her head tilted towards the second floor. She spotted him instantly.
Before anyone could guess Caleb’s intention, they heard the click of heels. Yasmin strode towards them, her white heels tapping a swift rhythm, her dress flowing elegantly. Even her icy expression couldn't diminish her stunning appearance. The onlookers, momentarily mesmerized, quickly averted their gazes upon remembering Caleb's presence.
Ignoring the others, Yasmin stopped before Caleb, staring intently. Without a word, she showed him her phone displaying his text: “Did you find a lawyer for Jeremy?” It was a warning, disguised as concern.
Fueled by alcohol and emotion, Yasmin grabbed his tie. “Caleb, are you insane?”
From below, the song drifted up: “Still climbing high for you, tending to your grave. Still dressing in white for you, as if nothing has changed.”
Caleb scoffed. “Mrs. Grant, someone might think I actually died.” The lyrics did sound like a mournful tribute to an ex.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Yasmin huffed, tilting her chin defiantly. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards an empty private lounge.
Caleb didn't immediately follow. Her skin was soft and warm. Failing to drag him, Yasmin glared. “Come here!”
“Mrs. Grant, given our current relationship, isn’t it inappropriate to be dragging me around like this?” Caleb pointed out the divorce proceedings. He seemed amused by her actions. The others sensed he was enjoying this.
“We’re legally married, Mr. Grant. What’s inappropriate about it?” Yasmin retorted sarcastically, emphasizing the formality.
Caleb ignored her jab, raising his cigarette. Before he could inhale, Yasmin leaned in, her lips inches from his. His fingers paused; the cigarette ember glowed faintly. Yasmin’s eyes shimmered; her breath warmed his skin. “Caleb, even if I kissed you right here—in front of all of them—it still wouldn’t be inappropriate.”
A forced kiss! The onlookers suppressed their excitement, remembering Caleb's presence. Sensing alcohol on her breath, Caleb asked, "You've been drinking?" She'd never be this reckless normally.
He lowered his gaze. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were flushed, her lips soft and inviting, her skin radiant. Every inch of her was enticing.
Slowly, Caleb crushed his cigarette. Then, swiftly, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Without a word, he led her towards the private lounge. Yasmin, shorter than him, was easily carried.
“Caleb! Let go of—” The door slammed shut, cutting her off.
The guys exchanged glances. “They’re not about to fight, are they?”
“Would you be able to hold back if the woman who tricked you into marriage started cursing you like a dead man?”
“Enough,” Gideon chuckled. “Let’s not overthink it. Let the fun resume!”
Yasmin still didn't know Caleb had once arranged for a roommate who cooked Glendish cuisine to help her. Could a man who cared that much about her really hurt her?