Chapter 4, so much for belonging

chapter 4, so much for belonging

Jasmine tossed and turned on her small bed until morning finally dragged her out of it. She shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she reached for the kettle. The place was too quiet. Too still. The empty chair across the table reminded her that her mother wasn’t there to fill the silence.

Her phone buzzed on the counter.

Two messages.

The first, from the one man she wished wasn’t tied to her.

> You’ll be meeting them at Grand Royal Hotel. 10 p.m. Don’t be late. And don’t mess anything up.

She let out a deep sign. It still amazed her sometimes—she was the one who went searching for him after twenty years, hoping maybe he’d want her now. But he treated her like she was dirt . And this time, she was tired of trying to be daddy's perfect little girl.

She opened the second message.

> Meeting is at 10. Don’t wear red—my mother hates it. .

—Alex.

She blinked at the screen. How the hell did he even get her number? Then again, a man like him probably got whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

Memories from the night before rushed back: the contract, the offer—ten million. It could change her life. But why so much? What exactly did he mean by “for your silence”?

She rubbed her temples. What have I gotten myself into?

A loud knock almost made her jump.

She opened the door and found George—Alex’s driver—standing there like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Good morning, Miss Jasmine.”

“George? What are you doing here?”

“Mr. Alex Philip asked me to drive you to the boutique,” he said. “You’ll pick something suitable for today. After that, I’ll take you to the hotel.”

She blinked, still trying to catch up. “You people don’t waste time, do you?”

He only smiled.

“Just call me Jasmine,” she muttered as she stepped into the car.

“Then I guess I can call you Jas,” he said, and she gave a tired half-smile in return.

But her curiosity got the better of her,this was her chance to get some information on alex. “George… you must know your boss pretty well.”

George gave her a quick glance before turning his eyes back to the road.

“I wanted to ask,” she continued carefully, “about the contract between alex and i. What kind of man is he, really? Is he dangerous… or shady? He said something about buying my silence, and that—well, that worries me.”

George’s lips let out a soft grin. “Nothing to worry about, really,” he said, honking at a reckless driver. “Mr. Alex just has… a reputation.”

“A reputation?” Jasmine frowned.

“Let’s just say women tend to be obsessed with him. He’s rich, handsome, sharp-minded, and one of the most powerful bachelors in the city. You can imagine the kind of attention that brings.”

Her chest tightened. “So… he’s obsessed with women?”

George chuckled again. “No. The opposite, actually. Women are obsessed with him. But I suppose he’s not completely innocent either. That’s why he needs this marriage—to look stable for the board.”

Jasmine nodded slowly, understanding finally what was needed from her.

He wasn't going sleep with her—he just needed her to be a trophy wife that didn't mean he wasn't going to sleep with other women

And she wasn't quite sure how that made her feel, could she handle it.

~~~~~~~~~

Jasmine arrived at Grand Royal Hotel at exactly 9:40 p.m.

she couldn't stop rubbing the fabric of her gown , even tho it was already smooth as she stepped out of the car. The ride had been quiet, but her thoughts hadn’t. She still couldn’t believe how kindly the boutique staff had treated her — how they’d seemed to know her size, her name, — all thanks to Alex’s unseen hand.

It felt strange being fussed over. She wasn’t used to people rushing to please her. she has always been the one trying to please people, she reminded herself, you signed up for this. You have to act like you belong.

She glanced down at the dark purple gala gown she’d chosen — elegant, flowing, with a single slit tracing up her left leg. Not too bold, not too plain. She only hoped it was enough.

“Are you going in, Jas?”

George’s voice broke through her thoughts. He stood by the car, watching her hesitate.

She gave a nervous little laugh. “Yeah… thanks for getting me here on time.”

He gave a small bow. “You’ll do just fine. Trust me.”

For her sake, she hoped he was right.

Jasmine drew a deep breath, straightened her posture, and walked toward the sparkling entrance. The hotel sparkled like something she only usually dreamed of— gold accents, crystal chandeliers, everything too beautiful to touch.

“Miss Jasmine?” a soft voice called.

She turned to find a young waitress smiling politely. “Right this way, please.”

Jasmine followed, doing her best to walk gracefully, the way women in movies did — with calm confidence, even when their hearts were racing.

When the doors to the private dining suite opened, she froze for half a second.

At the round table sat four people.

Her father, as expressionless as ever.

Alex, his gaze unreadable, composed, too calm.

And across from them, a refined couple who could only be Alex’s parents.

The woman was the first to rise, smiling warmly.

“Oh my, you must be Jasmine,” she said, her tone immediately kind. “I’m Barbara Philip, and this is my husband, Tony.”

Jasmine managed a graceful bow. “Good morning, everyone.”

Barbara’s face lit up. “You’re just beautiful — and so well-mannered too! And that gown—purple! My favorite color.”

Jasmine smiled softly. “It’s my favorite too. So much softer and calmer than red."

Barbara laughed, clearly delighted. “Oh! I always say the same thing. Purple is such a royal color — it suits you perfectly.”

Jasmine gave a small, polite nod, secretly relieved.

Tony cleared his throat lightly. “Well then,” he said, his tone calm but firm, “I suppose you know why we’re all gathered here . I trust you have no objections?”

Before Jasmine could respond, her father spoke, his voice flat. “Of course not. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be sitting here.”

A tense silence flickered between them. Jasmine forced herself to hold her composure.

“Yes, sir,” she said quietly. “I fully consent. It would do both families good.”

Barbara beamed, visibly pleased. “You’re a smart girl. I like that.”

She turned to Alex with a knowing smile. “Sweetheart, what do you think?”

Alex’s gaze moved lazily from his mother to Jasmine. “I think she’s fine, Mum.”

Barbara rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh, don’t mind him, dear. He always sounds cold, but he’s actually a sweetheart underneath all that ice.”

Tony chuckled under his breath, and even Jasmine’s lips curved faintly.

Dinner flowed more easily after that. Barbara chatted happily, telling stories about Alex’s childhood — his first business fair at twelve, how he once got suspended for buying out a lemonade stand because the girl running it wouldn’t give him a free drink. Jasmine laughed softly at that one.

Tony was quieter, but when he did speak, his tone carried respect. It was clear he approved of her. And Barbara — Barbara adored her already.

For once, Jasmine felt like she was doing something right. Every word, every smile, landed perfectly.

Until it didn’t.

Just as dessert was being served, the room’s door burst open with a sharp slam.

Everyone turned — startled.

A woman stood at the entrance, fury twisting her features, her voice sharp enough to cut through the music.

"you'll marry Alex! Not while I’m alive!.

Before anyone could react, she snatched a nearby glass and hurled it. The wine splashed across the table — crimson liquid spilling over plates, silverware… and Jasmine.

The room went silent.

Jasmine froze, droplets sliding down her gown, her breath catching in her throat. Her father’s face twisted in embarrassment, Tony pushed back his chair sharply, and Barbara gasped in horror.

Only Alex remained perfectly still. His jaw tightened, his eyes darkening.

And Jasmine, standing there soaked in red wine, could only think one thing—

So much for belonging.