Chapter 1

The window in the master bedroom was slightly ajar. The pitter-patter of rain outside mixed with the intimate sounds from the bed.

Under the warm yellow glow of the bedside lamp, the man's side profile was both handsome and cold, his deep gaze carrying a hunger that seemed ready to devour the woman in his arms.

Yasmin Whitmore's stunning face was flushed with a mesmerizing shade of red.

"Caleb…"

He held her tightly as if she were a treasure.

The tenderness in his embrace made Yasmin entertain an absurd hope. Could he, even if just a little, have feelings for her?

Suddenly, a phone rang, shattering the passionate atmosphere in the room.

From the corner of her eye, Yasmin caught sight of the caller ID, and her body tensed. She turned to look directly at the screen—Veronica Whitmore!

Caleb Grant answered the call.

Whatever was said on the other end made Caleb lose all passion and interest. He immediately returned to his usual calm self.

"I'll be right there," he said.

Watching him getting dressed swiftly, Yasmin blurted out before she could stop herself, "You're leaving?"

She wanted to make him stay.

"Yeah." Caleb grabbed his phone and walked out, not sparing her another glance.

She was summoned at will and discarded just as easily. Lying there, exposed, Yasmin suddenly felt like nothing more than a prostitute. The realization stabbed at her like a blade to her heart. It was painful and humiliating.

She pulled the silk blanket over herself. Her voice was soft and hoarse yet laced with lingering defiance as she said, "Caleb, you're just going to leave like this? Aren't you afraid Veronica might notice my scent on you and get jealous?"

Caleb paused at the door. When he turned around, he noticed Yasmin's gaze lingering on his figure.

Under the light, his chiseled features exuded an air of indifference and authority. It was as if the one engaged in passionate activities just moments ago was a completely different person.

Yasmin held his stare, her delicate face teasing and provocative, her slight smile dripping with mockery.

"Yasmin, Veronica's hand injury is acting up again. Years ago, multiple tendons and nerves in her palm were severed. She almost lost the use of her hand." Caleb's tone was cold and detached. "You were the one who did that to her."

Beneath the covers, Yasmin's fingers clenched into fists as her long lashes trembled. The forced smile on her face faded.

"Caleb, you're not a doctor. What can you even do? And don't you think it's inappropriate for your sister-in-law to call you in the middle of the night and pull you away from your own wife's bed?"

Caleb turned back, closing the distance between them in a few strides. Bending down, he grasped her chin, his thumb absently brushing over her skin.

"Yasmin, if you still want me, I'll make it up to you when I get back. Don't make a fuss, alright?"

"I think you're filthy!" Yasmin slapped his hand away, turning her head in disgust.

Despite hearing her call him filthy, Caleb didn't get angry. Instead, his lips curled slightly as if he were amused.

"Caleb!" Yasmin took a deep breath, deciding to take a gamble. "What if I say I want you to stay tonight and—"

Before she could finish, he cut her off, "Yasmin, you don't have that right."

Her lashes trembled as she lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his icy gaze. "I'm your wife! Doesn't that give me the right?"

Caleb let out a low chuckle as if he had just heard a ridiculous joke. The polite mask of a gentleman slipped away as he said, "Yasmin, do you need me to remind you how you became my wife in the first place?"

…

The lingering scent of Caleb in the master bedroom suffocated Yasmin. Her heart ached with a dull and persistent pain.

An hour later, Yasmin saw Veronica's latest post on Twitter.

"Being accompanied by someone who loves you even during the smallest pains—nothing is more precious than this."

Attached was a photo of a man standing by a window, his silhouette tall and commanding, his broad shoulders and narrow waist exuding an irresistible allure.

Though his face wasn't visible, Yasmin recognized him immediately.

It was her husband—Caleb.

She felt a dull ache in her heart, yet at the same time, she found the situation ironically amusing.

Three years ago, she was set up and made to spend a night with Caleb. When the elders of the Grant family found out, they forced him to marry her to preserve their reputation.

She had eagerly agreed, desperate to escape the control of the Whitmore family.

Why eagerly? Because Caleb was the man she had secretly loved for years.

…

The next afternoon, Caleb returned, his sharp features lined with exhaustion from a sleepless night.

Yasmin lounged on the couch, flipping through a thin stack of documents.

She was dressed casually in a silk nightgown, the delicate straps revealing her smooth, fair skin adorned with faint red marks.

Her bare feet rested against the cool gray floor, a sight enough to make anyone's breath hitch.

Caleb was about to tell her to put on shoes when she suddenly looked up at him.

He was the perfect embodiment of elite power—strikingly handsome and tall, a man of rigid discipline and noble lineage… He was the one every socialite in Dunville longed to marry.

"Back so soon? So, Veronica's injury wasn't that serious, was it?" Yasmin hugged her knees, resting her chin against them.

Caleb didn't respond. Clearly, he had no intention of discussing Veronica's matter with Yasmin.

"Caleb." Her voice was soft yet clear, her bright eyes pure. "Do you love me, even just a little?"

For a moment, surprise flickered in his gaze, but it was quickly masked by his usual indifference.

"What kind of question is that?" His tone suggested it was a foolish question.

Yasmin spread her hands with a feigned casualness. "I knew it. You don't love me."

He had never loved her.

Yasmin continued, "Caleb, let's get a divorce."

Three years of marriage had not changed how Caleb felt about her. If that was the case, then why should she keep forcing it?

Caleb's hand had just touched her foot, which felt cold. Hearing those words, he froze momentarily. His somewhat warm expression immediately turned icy, and the air in the room seemed to have dropped several degrees.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes as dark as a stormy night while his voice was even colder. "What did you just say?"

The sheer pressure of his presence made Yasmin instinctively pull her foot back. Before she could, his grip tightened around her delicate ankle. His warmth clashed against her icy skin, making her ears burn with an involuntary blush.

She forced a scowl on her exquisite face. "Let go."

Caleb didn't move, his grip only tightening.

"Yasmin, be a good wife and stop causing trouble."

Causing trouble? She almost laughed.

If she had really wanted to cause trouble, she would've fought tooth and nail last night to keep him from leaving. She wouldn't have given Veronica the chance to flaunt her victory.

Without hesitation, Yasmin pulled out the prepared divorce papers and handed them to him. "Let's divorce. I'm done."

Chapter 2

Caleb's expression darkened. His warm palm rested against Yasmin's delicate neck—part caress, part warning.

It felt as though if she disobeyed, he would snap her neck without hesitation.

"You were the one who wanted this marriage. Now, you're the one asking for a divorce…"

He leaned in as he spoke in a low voice that hovered between teasing and threat. "What's the matter? Found someone new?"

Yasmin sensed the danger but resisted her urge to shrink back. She forced herself to stay calm. "It's not someone new. I've liked him for a long time."

Caleb's gaze turned colder as he studied her face, his interest piqued. "Oh? Who?"

"You don't know him."

"Try me."

His voice was deathly calm. It carried no hint of curiosity but as if he were considering eliminating a threat.

"A senior from the university."

Talking about a lover with her current husband felt absurd—especially because it was a nonexistent one, no less.

Caleb chuckled as if she had told a joke. "Yasmin, you've never been one to stay interested in anything for long. Today, it's him, tomorrow, it's another. How long can you love this man?"

Never stayed interested?

She had loved him since she was a child, and yet, in his eyes, she was fickle.

Yasmin couldn't be bothered to argue. She lowered her gaze and said flatly, "Veronica is back. I'm making room for her. You should be happy."

"Should I praise you for being considerate, Mrs. Grant?"

Caleb straightened, towering over her. His tall frame cast her in his shadow.

Against the light, she couldn't see his expression, but the pressure around him was suffocating. And his use of "Mrs. Grant" was definitely on purpose to mock her.

Yasmin was about to speak when his phone rang. He answered, responding with the occasional "Mm."

Without another word, he tossed the divorce papers onto the coffee table and headed upstairs. Minutes later, he came down with a suit jacket in hand, ready to leave.

Yasmin grabbed the papers and followed him to the door, still barefoot. "Why don't you sign them first?"

Caleb suppressed the rage inside him and glanced at the documents.

Since there were no financial disputes, Yasmin had made it clear she would walk away with nothing. The agreement was simple—Caleb could scan through it in seconds.

"You're going to walk away with nothing? Mrs. Grant, even a bad deal isn't this one-sided," he advised.

"Money can be earned, but people can't wait for long." Yasmin made up an excuse, eager to end this mistake of a marriage with dignity.

Her words only deepened Caleb's scowl. "You like him that much?"

Yasmin nodded absently, urging him to sign.

"Mrs. Grant, you were a top law student. I, a layman, wouldn't dare sign an agreement with you so casually."

Without waiting for her response, he turned and strode off.

"Caleb!" Yasmin called out after him, watching his retreating figure.

Then, on impulse, she yelled, "Believe it or not, I never planned to trap you into marriage three years ago!"

"Oh, really?"

His response was indifferent, and then he disappeared from sight.

She knew he didn't believe her. After all, everyone assumed that marrying him was the greatest stroke of luck for a neglected, unwanted daughter like her.

But she had loved him for years. Why would she ever want to force him into anything?

…

Yasmin was born in Glenfield, where the legal marriage age was 16. She became Caleb's wife at 18.

Now, at 21, she was preparing for divorce.

She was also entering her final year at Dunville University's law school.

As summer break began, she moved out of the villa in Longview Bay and into an apartment near campus.

Two days later, in the evening, she received a text. "Yasmin, are you free tomorrow at 2:00 pm? There's something important I need to discuss with you."

A location was attached.

…

At a high-end cafe, Veronica sat by the window.

She wore a sleeveless black Chanel dress, her sleek hair grazing her shoulders. Her delicate features radiated warmth and elegance.

A black wrist brace covered her left hand from palm to wrist. Her old injury would still flare up in air-conditioned spaces.

Yasmin forced herself to look away from the brace, refusing to let guilt creep in.

"Yasmin, I thought you wouldn't come." Veronica stood and smiled, her voice gentle.

Among the city's elites, Veronica was known as the perfect older sister.

Yasmin used to think the same.

"I wasn't planning to," Yasmin said as she sat across from her. "You texted me with a time and place without asking. It's kind of rude."

If she hadn't wanted to prevent Veronica from showing up at her university, she wouldn't have come at all.

Veronica paused, then smiled. She seemed to give a compliment. "You've grown bold after marrying Caleb. You never dared to talk to me like this before."

Yasmin hadn't been afraid before. She had just been naive enough to treat Veronica like a real sister.

"What do you want?"

"Dad and Mom asked me to check if you've spoken to Caleb about Jeremy. His trial is next week. There's no time left."

"Jeremy committed assault. The case is solid. No one can help him."

After Yasmin's mother passed, her father quickly remarried Veronica's mother. Veronica, two years older, took the Whitmore name and became their father's favorite. Later, her father and stepmother had a son together—Jeremy.

He was spoiled beyond reason. He only turned 18 this year. Last month, he fought over a girl with the Barnes family's heir and injured one of his eyes beyond repair.

Now, the Barnes family wanted him to face jail time.

"Yasmin, you're a lawyer. You know there's a way around this. The Barneses are just the Grants' dogs. Caleb can easily handle it."

Veronica's tone was soft, but her words were sharp.

"You can get Caleb out of my bed in the middle of the night with a single call. Asking him yourself would be more effective."

Yasmin paused, then rested her chin in her palm, her voice tinged with amusement as she continued, "Besides, I don't have the standing to ask him for anything. Caleb and I are getting a divorce."

"You're… divorcing?" Veronica's eyes widened in shock.

Yasmin laughed, her eyes sparkling as if she had stumbled upon something amusing. "Oh? Caleb didn't tell you?"

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger and leaned in with feigned surprise. "Wow, maybe you should worry about whether he's got another bitch outside, considering he didn't even tell you something this important!"

If Veronica noticed the jab, she didn't react to it.

"Yasmin, Caleb and I are just friends." She studied Yasmin carefully, unconvinced.

"You schemed your way into his bed and pulled every trick to become Mrs. Grant… You should be clinging to him, not letting go."

Yasmin sighed dramatically, shaking her head while replying, "I just can't take it anymore."

Chapter 3

A waitress happened to be delivering pastries when she overheard Yasmin's words. Shocked, she nearly dropped the tray, her wide eyes darting toward Yasmin.

Yasmin glanced at her. It was a cute young woman, probably a student working part-time. She looked familiar.

But before Yasmin could place her, the young woman quickly set down the pastries and hurried away.

Veronica's composed expression cracked for a brief moment. Her fingers, which were gripping her coffee cup, turned pale from the pressure.

Then, she smoothly shifted the conversation. Her tone was laced with meaning. "Yasmin, don't forget that Edith is still lying in a hospital bed, surviving on the money Dad sends every month."

The mention of Edith instantly extinguished Yasmin's earlier amusement, darkening her expression.

Edith had been her mother's maid, following her from Glenfield to Dunville to take care of her. Over three years ago, she got injured saving Yasmin and ended up in a coma.

Since Yasmin was underage at the time, her father became Edith's legal guardian. Her life now hung in the balance—one that her father controlled with a single decision.

Meanwhile, the waitress rushed into the break room and immediately opened her contact list, texting her cousin.

"Send me 50 grand and I'll tell you exactly what Yasmin thinks of you!"

…

Caleb had just returned from his business trip.

The first thing he noticed was that half the shoes in the entryway were missing—Yasmin's shoes.

His assistant, Harris Evans, followed behind him, reporting updates on work, but Caleb suddenly raised a hand and signaled him to stop.

Caleb's gaze swept across the room, only to see that all of Yasmin's belongings were gone. She had actually left!

He clenched his jaw, feeling the irritation rising within him.

"Where is she?" he asked Harris.

In a city the size of Dunville, finding someone wasn't easy. But soon, the answer came to him instead.

"Mr. Grant, the madam went to see Mr. Barnes Senior in the hospital to discuss settling Jeremy's and the Barnes heir's case privately."

…

"Mr. Barnes Senior, I'm truly sorry about what happened to your grandson. But even if Jeremy serves time, it won't undo what has already happened.

"I heard your grandson wants to study at Barrow Public School in Eldham. One of my former professors holds significant influence in Eldham's education sector. I can ask him to write a recommendation letter."

Yasmin first apologized and then offered a deal.

The Barnes family had wealth but no power. They could find other ways to get a recommendation, but business favors were harder to repay.

Clearly, Yasmin's offer was the better option.

"Mrs. Grant, your terms are tempting, but—" Michael Barnes spread his hands in mock helplessness. "Our family depends on Mr. Grant. Perhaps you should discuss this with him first?"

His meaning was clear—Caleb had already refused to settle privately, and Michael had to follow Caleb's lead.

Yasmin sped back to the villa.

Caleb was still dressed from his trip, but he had tossed his tie aside. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the sharp lines of his collarbone and chest. He was reclining on the couch, his eyes closed in a light nap.

Yasmin stormed in. "Caleb, what's the meaning of this?"

Caleb opened his eyes lazily, and before she knew it, he was already standing in front of her.

When Yasmin was angry, she reminded him of a fluffed-up kitten—fierce, but not threatening.

From the moment he returned and found her gone, his irritation had been simmering. Now that she was back, he felt some of it ease.

Crossing his legs, he leaned back leisurely. "Minnie, you were the one who came to me first. Now that you're done, you think you can just toss me aside like a toy? Do you think I'm your gigolo for hire?"

Minnie—that was her childhood nickname.

Yasmin rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "A gigolo would at least be obedient."

Caleb grabbed her chin and tilted her face back toward him, deliberately asking, "What did you say?"

Caught off guard, Yasmin lost her balance and stumbled into him, her palms landing on his chest.

Beneath her fingertips, she could feel his firm muscles and the steady beat of his heart. His scent surrounded her.

Panicked, she quickly pushed away and took a few steps back before trying to reason with him.

"Caleb, Jeremy is Veronica's own brother. I'm going out of my way to help her family. Even if you want to make things difficult for me, now isn't the time, right?"

Edith's treatment couldn't be stopped. The moment the ventilator was unplugged, she would be gone.

"You're overthinking."

Caleb's expression made it clear. If he wanted to make things difficult for her, timing wasn't an issue.

"Then what are you doing right now?" Yasmin asked, considering her next words carefully. "You're upset because I asked for a divorce, aren't you?"

That was the only reason he was deliberately obstructing her.

Caleb didn't respond. His gaze remained cold, deep, and unreadable.

Yasmin lifted her chin slightly, a sweet, almost innocent smile curling her lips. "Caleb, don't tell me that after sleeping with me a few times, you've actually fallen for me."

"Yes." Caleb's response was casual and effortless.

Yasmin's smile froze. She stared at him, momentarily stunned, her heart skipping a beat.

Caleb's grip tightened around her waist, pulling her against him. "I like you… Your body."

He smirked and added, "So far, it's satisfactory."

His tone was detached, objectifying. It was the same as it had been for the past year—dominant and dismissive.

Yasmin shoved him away, her expression cold. "You're a bastard, Caleb."

He didn't seem fazed by the insult. "Minnie, only Mrs. Grant has the authority to negotiate with the Barnes family. The choice is yours."

…

At the bar, neon lights flickered, and a live band screamed into their microphones.

Yasmin had to yell over the music to vent her frustration to Brenda Rhodes.

"Is he insane? Tell me, is he insane? I asked for a divorce and am willing to leave without taking a dime! I might be the most understanding ex-wife in this entire circle. What more does he want? I admit it was a mistake to sleep with him that night, but I've owned up to it! How many times have I admitted it? And yet, he keeps acting all smug and patronizing. He's just insane!

"He's doing this on purpose to make my life difficult! Does he have nothing better to do? He's insane!"

Brenda sighed dramatically. "Babe, can you expand your vocabulary for cussing just a little?"

Fuming, Yasmin downed another glass of whiskey, her anger only growing as the alcohol hit her.

Then, Brenda suddenly said, "Yasmin, have you considered that maybe Caleb doesn't actually want a divorce?"

Yasmin choked on her drink, her eyes widening in shock. Two seconds later, she burst into a coughing fit. When she finally caught her breath, she looked at Brenda with a hint of lingering fear.

"That would mean he's actually insane. Caleb has someone else in his heart. You and I both know he only married me because he had no choice."

The day after their wedding, Caleb had flown to Pacifica for work. A year later, Yasmin left for Eldham on an exchange program while Caleb returned to Pacifica. In total, they had spent less than a year together.

That was how much he didn't care about her.

Brenda frowned, internally cursing Caleb a thousand times over.

"Tell me, who told Mrs. Grant Senior about the two of you that night? You hadn't even gotten out of bed before someone reported it. I don't believe for a second that it was an accident."

Chapter 4

Yasmin rested her chin on her palm as if deep in thought.

The blue neon lights cast a soft glow on her delicate features. Her long lashes trembled slightly, giving her an air of 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—and now, on the brink of divorce—Yasmin still had no idea why she had been "coincidentally" caught in bed by the Whitmore family's elders that night.

"Forget those lunatics!" Brenda regained her playful smile. "Should we celebrate your return to single life?"

…

While the rest of the group partied wildly in a VIP lounge upstairs, Caleb sat alone in the corner, nursing his drink. No one dared to approach him.

Gideon Radcliffe finished his phone call and walked straight over, taking the seat beside his friend.

"There's a woman downstairs buying drinks for the entire bar to celebrate being single again."

Caleb showed no interest. He didn't even glance up.

But the other guys overheard and immediately perked up. "Who? Who is it?"

Anyone who could afford to cover the bill in a place like this was bound to be someone from their social circle—whether closely acquainted or not.

Gideon, always looking effortlessly refined yet carrying an air of nonchalance, took his time before revealing the answer. "Brenda Rhodes."

"What? Brenda and George Howard are getting divorced?"

Spurred by their curiosity, the group threw open the lounge doors and rushed out to see for themselves.

As the song came to an end, the lead singer raised his mic and announced, "Let's all congratulate this lady's best friend for escaping the graveyard of marriage! Here's to her happy single life!"

Wait. Brenda's best friend? And she was married too? That could only be… Yasmin.

The entire group turned in unison to look at Caleb, unsure how to react.

Caleb had already stepped forward.

Downstairs, amidst the lively crowd, Caleb spotted Yasmin instantly.

She wore a halter-neck gown that accentuated her graceful neck. Even from a distance, her figure and presence stood out effortlessly. In just the past few minutes, seven men, and even two women, had approached her.

She was as popular as ever.

"Caleb, are you… and Yasmin really divorcing?" someone finally couldn't resist asking.

Caleb usually put on a polite yet distant smile, one that wasn't genuine but more for social settings. But tonight, even that faintest smile was gone.

He lit a cigarette and lifted his gaze. "Who told you that?"

His gaze seemed nonchalant, but the underlying pressure was unmistakable.

The group exchanged nervous glances, no one daring to answer. Wasn't Brenda throwing a party for Yasmin? If not Caleb and Yasmin… who else could it be?

Caleb lowered his gaze and sent a single text before leaning against the railing, watching the scene below with composed patience.

Moments later, among the booths, Yasmin suddenly stood up and tilted her head to look at the second floor. She spotted him instantly. He was standing among a crowd of young elites, watching her.

Before anyone could decipher Caleb's intention, they heard the sharp sound of heels clicking.

Yasmin strode toward them, her white heels tapping swiftly and her dress flowing elegantly with her every step. She looked stunning even with the icy expression on her face.

The onlookers were momentarily mesmerized before snapping back to reality. Remembering Caleb was present, they quickly averted their gazes.

Ignoring the others, Yasmin stopped directly in front of Caleb and stared at him as if trying to drill a hole through his skull. Without a word, she pulled out her phone and thrust it toward his face. The screen displayed the text Caleb had just sent her.

"Did you find a lawyer for Jeremy?"

While it looked like he was showing concern, Yasmin knew better. It was a warning.

Fueled by alcohol and heightened emotions, Yasmin grabbed Caleb's tie and blurted out her bottled feelings, "Caleb, are you insane?"

From below, the lyrics of a 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, if someone heard this song right now, they might think I actually died."

The lyrics really did sound like someone mourning their ex.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Yasmin huffed, tilting her chin in defiance.

Without waiting for his response, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward an empty private lounge. She wasn't about to discuss private matters with an audience.

Caleb glanced down at her hand gripping his wrist but made no move to follow. Her skin was soft and warm, tempting one's imagination to wander.

Failing to drag him along, Yasmin glared at him. "Come here!"

"Mrs. Grant, given our current relationship, isn't it inappropriate to be dragging me around like this?" Caleb reminded her about the divorce.

He seemed relaxed and composed, watching her with amusement. The other guys couldn't help but feel like Caleb was actually enjoying this.

"We're legally married, Mr. Grant. What's inappropriate about it?" Yasmin shot back, her voice laced with sarcasm.

She even exaggerated the formality, mocking him with the honorific "Mr. Grant".

Caleb ignored the jab and lifted his cigarette to his lips. But before he could take a drag, Yasmin suddenly leaned in, pressing her hands against his chest. Her lips stopped just an inch away from his.

Caleb's fingers paused mid-motion, the ember of his cigarette glowing faintly in the dim light—like the pulse of a beating heart.

Yasmin's eyes shimmered playfully, her breath warm against 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! That sounded absolutely exhilarating!

The onlookers wanted to cheer them on, but with Caleb's involvement, they did their best to suppress their curiosity and looked away.

As Yasmin moved closer, Caleb caught a faint scent of alcohol on her.

"You've been drinking?"

He wasn't sure how much she had, but it was enough to embolden her. Under normal circumstances, she'd never do something this reckless in public. She was a fairly conservative person in this aspect, after all.

Caleb lowered his gaze.

Her beautiful eyes sparkled mischievously, her cheekbones were tinged pink from the alcohol, her lips were soft and inviting, and her skin was radiant under the club's dim lights. Every inch of her was enticing.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Caleb crushed his cigarette in the ashtray. Then, in a swift motion, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his embrace.

Without another word, he led her toward the private lounge.

Yasmin was much shorter than him and was carried away effortlessly.

"Caleb! Let go of—"

With a bang, the door slammed shut, cutting her voice off.

The guys outside 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 cut in with a chuckle. "Let's not overthink it. Let the fun resume!"

Years ago, when Yasmin studied in Eldham, Caleb had secretly arranged for a student who knew how to cook Glendish cuisine to be her roommate just so she wouldn't have to struggle with foreign food.

Until now, Yasmin still didn't know about this.

Could a man who cared that much about her really bring himself to hit her?

Chapter 5

The sudden darkness made Yasmin's vision falter. The next second, she was pinned against the wall, and her lips were captured in a fierce kiss.

It was overwhelming, almost as if it would devour her whole.

Yasmin struggled for air as she pushed against Caleb's chest with all her strength, but he wouldn't budge. Instead, her own body was faltering. She felt wronged and aggrieved.

When Caleb finally let go, her usually radiant eyes were glazed with unshed tears, shimmering like mist.

It was unclear whether it was from the intensity of the kiss or from something deeper. But her expression—it was pure accusation.

The smell of alcohol was thick in the air.

"Little drunkard, be reasonable. You were the one who started provoking me after drinking, and now, you're the one feeling wronged?"

Caleb's voice carried both exasperation and amusement as he held onto her waist, steadying her so that she wouldn't collapse.

"You were the one who came to provoke me after drinking. You were the one who climbed into my bed first," Caleb mused internally.

Yasmin lowered her gaze, refusing to look at him.

Caleb immediately noticed the shift in her mood and furrowed his brows lightly. He was like a patient hunter. Instead of pressing her for answers, he simply waited for her to speak first.

After a long silence, Yasmin murmured softly, breaking the stillness, "Jacob wouldn't have done this."

"What did you say?" Caleb questioned, his expression immediately turning cold.

A yelp of pain from Yasmin made Caleb realize that he had unknowingly exerted too much force when pulling her into his arms.

Without a word, he switched on the lights, wanting to see her expression clearly.

For a fleeting moment, he actually wondered if she had mistaken him for his brother, Jacob Grant, when he kissed her just now.

The earlier sense of intimacy in the darkness vanished completely.

The pain helped Yasmin sober up. She rubbed her face and forced herself to focus, pushing down the vulnerability in her eyes.

To her, the words "Jacob wouldn't have done this" had never left her lips, seemingly a part of her dream.

"Caleb, considering that we grew up together, can't you stay out of Jeremy's case?"

If it weren't for Caleb's interference, she would've already convinced the Barnes family.

Caleb's response was calm and detached. "I don't do favors."

As if he hadn't just kissed her breathless a moment ago, his expression and tone were utterly indifferent.

Yasmin let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. "Of course. There's never been anything between us worth calling a favor."

Her smile faded as she continued, "Then let's talk this over like adults."

Caleb raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'm listening."

"I shouldn't have chosen that song earlier. I'm sorry."

He knew Brenda had been the one to request the song. Yasmin wouldn't have done something so petty. But she was covering for Brenda, so Caleb let it slide. He didn't care about the song.

"What I don't understand is why you refuse to get divorced," Yasmin pressed.

Caleb leaned back slightly, his handsome features partly hidden in the shadows as he answered, "I just hate unnecessary trouble."

Yasmin understood immediately.

He wasn't opposed to divorcing her. In fact, he couldn't wait to!

But her presence as his wife didn't interfere with his affection for Veronica. And at night, she was conveniently available for him.

Divorcing her was just an inconvenience—one he didn't see the need to deal with yet.

How ridiculous!

Yasmin inhaled sharply. "Let Jeremy go. Name your price—anything but forgoing the divorce."

She couldn't bear to stay married to a man who loved another woman for even another second.

Caleb's gaze was icy as he scrutinized her. "What do you have to offer me?"

Money? Talent? Connections? He already had everything.

"It'd be insincere of me to limit your options." Yasmin smiled faintly. "As long as it's not illegal, whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

Caleb's expression didn't change as he slowly asked, "What if I want you to be my mistress?"

Yasmin's smile froze. All her composure and confidence from earlier vanished without a trace.

"We're married! What mistress?" she retorted instinctively, avoiding his gaze.

Caleb took a step back, leaning lazily against the armrest of the couch. "After the divorce, you won't be anymore."

"Caleb Grant, are you humiliating me on purpose?"

"I'm just stating facts."

"How long?" Yasmin forced herself to remain calm. "It can't be forever. Jeremy isn't worth my entire life. I still plan to remarry."

She tried to keep it light, treating it like a negotiation.

"Who? That 'new love' of yours?"

Caleb's fingers traced her cheek lightly, his voice laced with mockery. "Would he still want you after knowing you're my mistress?"

Yasmin's expression froze at the blatant humiliation. "That's none of your business!"

Caleb crossed his arms, watching her patiently. The hunter always held the initiative, after all.

A long silence stretched between them. Finally, Yasmin took a deep breath like she was making the hardest decision of her life.

"Fine… I agree. I'll be your mistress."

"So, you'd rather be a mistress than be my lawful wife?" Caleb thought to himself and let out a chuckle. However, his elegant chuckle carried with it a blatant mockery.

He stood up, gripped her chin, and forced her to look at him.

"Do you even know what being a mistress means?"

His eyes no longer carried any warmth—just a deep, unreadable abyss.

"Didn't you say I wasn't good enough in bed? Why would you agree to this?"

Yasmin's breath hitched, and she instantly started panicking. "H-How did you… Who told you?"

She had only ever said that to Veronica. Did Veronica… tell him? Was she out of her mind?

Still furious, Caleb ignored her question and continued mercilessly, "No status, no title. You're to be available at my request to please me however I want."

With every word, Yasmin's expression cracked further, her defenses replaced by anger and disbelief.

Caleb gave a faint smile as if to remind her this was what humiliation looked like. He didn't care about her. The only thing he valued was the novelty of her body and nothing more.

Suddenly, the crisp sound of Yasmin's palm meeting Caleb's face echoed in the silence.

"Caleb, you're disgusting!"

His head barely tilted from the impact. He wiped his thumb across his lips, but there was no blood. Then, he looked at her.

Yasmin felt like prey being watched by a predator, but she refused to back down and met his gaze.

She had known Caleb for over a decade. No one had ever dared to slap him before. She was the first.

Caleb raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue. "Minnie, with a temper like that, do you think you'll make a good mistress?"

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked out of the room.

She understood the message loud and clear—there were plenty of women willing to be his mistress. She was too much trouble for him to be interested. She had failed.

And now… what would happen to Edith?