The Billionaire's Temptress

TWELVE YEARS AGO

Jasmine.

I wasn’t a quiet child.

Not by any means possible. Mom told me I came into the world with a strong set of lungs because I kept on crying whenever I wasn’t attached to her or she decided to hand me over to my father.

Everyone considered it a shame when I grew attached to him as I got older.

Was that the reason why mom preferred the company of those strange children after the funeral?

On the day of the wedding, my mom promised me I could hide in my room during the after-party. She promised me a cake and a whole bottle of juice just so she could get me to behave. There was no mention of the fifteen-years-old boy who crawled into the said room through my window and watched me like I was planning my great escape or something.

I loved my privacy. My room was my tiny little space where no one would bother me or try to atop me from doing what I loved. At this particular age, it was filling my lungs with nicotine.

I wondered if he had no idea I was watching him. Away from his younger sister, who was apparently the life of the party, he was just a boy with beautiful, curly, black hair, wearing a black suit. Something about him intrigued me, and I found myself unable to look away.

I loved to watch people from afar. It was a great way to pass time when there was no one close to me to annoy with stories of designs I dreamed of creating one day.

I couldn’t stop staring at him, even as I took drags after drags of the cancer stick. I don’t want to stop. I am unable to turn my gaze away as he stared at the clouds outside my window. He must be hot, surely.

Maybe I should offer him a cigarette….

What the heck? What the fuck was I thinking?

I sighed, stubbing out the cancer stick before tossing it onto the ashtray close to my bed, keeping an eye on Alexander while I covered the smell of cigarettes in the room.

Mom might come to the room at any moment.

“She is going to find out; she knows everything” Alexander finally made a sentence. His eyebrows were raised up, like he was giving me a challenge or something.

At that very moment I heard footsteps. My shoulders slumped.

“Jasmine” mom bellowed from outside my door. “Are you in there?”

As Alexander disappeared into my bathroom, I couldn't help but think about the array of feminine products that covered every inch of the countertops - the tampons and pads in their brightly covered packaging, the scent from my uncovered body wash, the hair ties and pins. It was a space that was supposed to be just for me, and the thought of him seeing those things made my cheeks flush.

I kicked aside the chair and turned the doorknob, ‘Yes.” I said calmly.

The smiles I had expected to receive were nonexistent at this point. She scowled at me, arms crossed, tapping her foot on the ground. My mom wasn’t a large woman, but she certainly wasn’t a small woman, an entire foot taller than me and perhaps even two times my weight.

“Were you smoking again? I am pretty sure I could smell it from the other part of this house”

She was also an exaggerator.

“No,” I lied effortlessly, craning my neck to see if the promised cakes and juice I was behind her or something.

“Alexander was supposed to tell you to come down for cake, but it seems he lost his way, I'm sorry”

I pulled up my hood and tightened the strings, burying my hands in my front pocket. At least she looked kind of remorseful. But I understood the shift better now. I was the forgotten child now.

None of the golden kids of Charles, her new husband, would be caught dead with the cancer stick in their hands at the age of twelve.

Everyone here already thought of me as the bad egg. The troublesome kid that smoked.

I closed the door at her face, sadness creeping into me when I heard her footsteps as she walked away.

Said runaway was lying face up on my bed, his legs sprawled around like the bed was too small for him, his face turned upwards with an air of nonchalance.

“What do you want?” I asked, approaching him.

I hate the fact that he chose not to acknowledge my existence. I don’t like being ignored, especially by some random boy who chose my room as his place of solace.

I huffed, annoyed by the silence. "You should leave my room now, get out”

His gaze froze me in place. Those forest green eyes were absolutely insane. I didn’t get him. My breath felt like it was ripped apart from me when he finally said something.

“I came to ease the silence. I never knew you were a little blabbermouth like my sister” He glared at me as he said those words, like it was my fault I talked a lot.

I glared back because two could play at that game.

His grin grows with each passing moment, the dimple on each cheek becoming more apparent with each passing moment.

Butterflies.

I wondered if my new stepbrother felt them too.

He finally stood up from my bed, his eyes still fixed on mine.

“Try and stay away from my sister and I, as much as you and your and your gold-digger of a mother,”

I let out a mocking laugh, crossing my arms together as I tried my best to make sure I stared at him squarely in the eyes. Dad thought me never to show fear.

“Funny I should say the same for you,” I took another step closer to him, “Stay away from me and mine”

He barged into me with his shoulder, making sure he used the door this time around. I couldn’t help the stupid grin pulling at my lips as I thought about our little interaction. His scent lingered, making it nearly impossible for me to light another cancer stick.

But fucking hell. Why the fuck was I smiling?