CHAPTER 4

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? Now, he looked like a god. The kind of man who didn’t just turn heads but made people stop breathing. No wonder the world called him the most eligible bachelor.

“You didn’t just come here to see me,” he said, cutting straight to the point.“You want something.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly felt dry. “Yes. I need your help.”

His eyes stayed on me, studying me like a predator watching his prey. I had rehearsed this conversation, but now that I was here, actually looking at him, I began to doubt myself.

“My ex-husband stole everything from me. My business, my reputation… and now, no one will even take my calls. I need a way back in. And you are the only person powerful enough to—”

“And why,” he interrupted, “would I associate myself with you? Your bad PR would rub off on me, don’t you think?”

“I know,” I admitted. “But I was hoping…”

“—Hoping that I would help you because I’m your ex-boyfriend? The same ex-boyfriend you walked away from without a single explanation?” His voice was calm, but there was an underlying sharpness.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

“Go on,” he said. “Explain.”

How do I tell him the truth? That I was just a girl, terrified of losing him, terrified of love itself. That I had been raised by a father who taught me that love was just another weapon people used to destroy you. That I thought leaving first meant I wouldn’t have to watch him leave me.

Instead, I said, “I’m sorry. Maybe coming here was a mistake.”

I turned, heading for the door, but before I could leave, William was suddenly behind me, his hand pressed firmly against the door, trapping me between him and the solid wood.

I froze.

“Running away from me again, Jasmine?” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.

My heart was beating so loud I was sure he could hear it.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

I swallowed and slowly turned. His fingers brushed against my chin, lifting it slightly so I had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he warned, his blue eyes serious.

Had my leaving all those years ago hurt him more than I thought?

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

William exhaled, then stepped away, running a hand through his hair as he walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.

And then, without turning, he said, “I will help you.”

I felt relieved. “Thank you,”

But then he turned and locked eyes with me. “On one condition.”

I stilled.

“You must marry me.”

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“Marry me.”

I shook my head. No. No, no, no. I had just survived a marriage that nearly destroyed me. I could not handle another one—especially not with him.

“I can’t,” I said.

William leaned against the desk, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “Then I can’t help you.”

“William, please. You are the only one who can do this.”

He shrugged. “I’m not asking for much. Marry me, and in return, I will do whatever you need. You want revenge? I will give it to you. You want your ex-husband and his mistress to suffer? Done. The way I see it, you would be getting the better end of the deal.”

I exhaled shakily. “And what about your reputation? Marrying a woman everyone thinks is an unstable socialite would ruin your image just as much.”

“With the kind of power I have?” He smirked, folding his arms. “No one would dare say a word to my face.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you stand to gain from this?”

His lips quirked. “Let’s just say… I have my own reasons.”

I crossed my arms. “If we get married, there will be no sex.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? Afraid to sleep with me?” He smirked. “Because I remember a time when you loved screaming my name.”

My face burned. “That was the past. I want nothing from you except help.”

“Fine. No sex,” he said quickly.

That was too easy.

“I’m opening a new hotel next week,” he continued. “Would you like me to invite your ex-husband?” His gaze flickered with amusement. “Keep your enemies close, right?”

I hesitated. Then, an idea formed.

“Yes,” I said. “But make it a masquerade ball.”

His eyes gleamed. “You want to watch him enjoy your money… without knowing you are watching?”

I met his gaze, my lips curling slightly. “Something like that.”

His smirk widened. “Now, that’s the Jasmine I remember.”