WIFE TO A CHEATER BRIDE TO A BILLIONAIRE

JASMINE’S POVI tried to stay composed and not show how much I was hurting, but when she called me a worthless whore, I snapped. I could not take the disrespect any longer. I picked up the wine bottle and hurled it in her direction. She managed to dodge it just in time, but not without a shard of glass cutting her cheek. A small sense of satisfaction bloomed within me.Are you crazy?!” Martin yelled as he wrapped his arms around Kimberly like she was a delicate flower. She clung to him, whimpering—probably more for effect than actual pain.Crazy? He had the audacity to call me crazy?“No, let me show you what crazy looks like,” I hissed, picking up a baseball bat resting on the fridge and dragging it slowly across the floor. His eyes widened in fear as I stepped closer. Good. Let him be scared. Let him feel even a fraction of what I was feeling.But I wasn’t going to swing it at them. No. That would make me the villain. Instead, I turned and swung the bat at the nearest wedding phot

JASMINE’S POV“Do you want me to get you anything?” William asked.I shook my head, afraid to speak. Then I cleared my throat. “No,” I managed to say.“There is something in your hair.” He reached forward, plucking a dry leaf tangled in the strands. It must have gotten there in the wind earlier.I felt my face heat up. God, I probably look exactly like the media describes me—messy, unstable, a fallen socialite. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to—”He didn’t let me finish. Instead, he offered a small smile. “You look perfect, Jasmine.”The way he said my name—it was deep, smooth, like honey. Just like I remembered. My stomach twisted at the familiarity, at the memories of how much I once loved hearing him say it.“How long has it been? Six, seven years?” he asked.“Seven.”He leaned back in his chair, unbuttoning the top of his crisp shirt, revealing the hint of a tattoo on his chest. Then, he rolled up his sleeves, exposing his toned forearms. He had always been attractive, but now? No

WILLIAM STONE. I was uncuffing the sleeve of my long-sleeved shirt. Today had been long and stressful, and my social battery had run dry. Even though my job requires me to meet and talk to a lot of people, I still always hate it—mainly because it involves a group of power hungry individuals who were primarily attracted to my money. None of them cared about my personal life. And if they did, it was only to see what piece of information they could dig up and sell to make money off it. Earlier, I noticed the look of shock when I walked into the masquerade ball, hand in hand with Jasmine. No one had ever seen me at a social event with a woman before, and rumors had long whispered that I might be gay. But now, with news of my marriage spreading, those whispers would finally die down—not that I ever cared what they thought. The society mamas who had hoped I would choose one of their daughters wore thin smiles and disappointed eyes. And I knew, at that very moment, a dozen speculations w

JASMINE POV“We will be going to see my family this evening,” William said casually as soon as Gaston left.I blinked, completely thrown off guard. “Uhm? What?” I scrambled to sit up straighter. “Why?”He cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that obvious? We are getting married. It’s only normal for you to meet my parents.”“It’s a fake wedding. I don’t think that’s necessary,” I frowned.When William proposed this arrangement, I pictured a quiet wedding ceremony with no one else involved except a lawyer. I had not envisioned making a luxurious wedding dress or seeing his parents. I had been so caught up in my revenge that I hadn’t seen how deep this charade would go.“Can’t we just skip that part?” I asked.He gave me a look like I was being dense. “You have been married before. Why are you acting like you don’t know how weddings work? You meet my parents, I meet yours. We do the wedding. We stay married until we both fulfill our end of the deal. Then we divorce. It’s quite straightforward if y

WILLIAM’S POV. “Thank you for inviting me,” Martin said, smiling and shaking my hand. I nodded once, keeping my face neutral, then shielded my eyes from the blazing sun. “Have you ever played golf before?” I asked casually. He nodded a little too fast. “Yes… I only started playing a couple of months ago,” he said, and despite his smile, I caught the slight tremor in his voice. He was nervous. Good. I turned toward the small tent a few feet away, where Mateo sat, lazily sipping whiskey, looking like he owned the world. “That’s my friend and business partner, Mateo,” I said, tilting my head toward him. “He will be joining us today.” Mateo lifted his glass in a lazy salute, his sharp eyes hidden behind dark shades. “Start first,” I said to Martin, stepping aside and handing him the first move like a king indulging a jester. Martin nodded again and took his position, setting up the ball with the care of a man who knew every move was being watched. Mateo chuckled under his breath