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?