Chapter 6

Caleb returned to the VIP lounge. Gideon immediately noticed faint finger marks on his friend's face. Lowering his voice, he asked, "What happened to your face?" Caleb hadn't even realized the mark was there. He didn't care, anyway. Remaining expressionless, he lied smoothly, "Got scratched by a cat."

"A cat with the last name Whitmore?" Gideon grinned, amused. Caleb shot him a warning glance. Unfazed, Gideon shifted comfortably, leaning in. "Be honest. What's the deal with Yasmin? Even if this was just a game, after three years, shouldn't the novelty have worn off?"

The rest of the group was absorbed in their own pursuits—shouting into microphones, consuming drinks, or making out with their dates. In the dim light, Caleb's expression was unreadable. A sudden wave of irritation washed over him, prompting him to light another cigar. So, that was the issue? The novelty had worn off, huh? Was that why she couldn't wait to leave?

Gideon, realizing he wouldn't get an answer, gestured to the hostess serving their lounge. She eagerly approached. Another woman, tall and striking, quickly slid into the seat beside Caleb. Her voice was soft and honeyed.

"Mr. Grant…"

Caleb turned, assessing her. Noticing his gaze, she thought he was interested. She reached out, her fingertips brushing his arm.

"Get lost." His voice was icy, chilling the room.

"Mr. Grant, I… I'm clean…" Her hand froze. Hesitating, unwilling to give up, she leaned closer. "Am I not pretty enough?"

The light illuminated Caleb's face. His gentlemanly facade had dropped; his icy gaze seemed lethal. Fear shot through her. She instinctively turned to Gideon, hoping for intervention. But Gideon, draped over another woman, simply smirked and waved a dismissive finger. "You're nowhere near the one he has at home."

Later, Brenda asked Yasmin, "How did it go? Caleb didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

"No," Yasmin shook her head. If anything, she was the one who had struck him. Only God knew when he'd settle that score.

Brenda pulled out her phone. "Look at this, Yasmin. Isn't this emerald bead necklace your aunt's? It's listed in next month's auction at Dunville Auction House."

The phone displayed a stunning emerald bead necklace. Its flawless color marked it as a priceless rarity. It was her grandmother's heirloom, a gift from royalty generations ago, and her mother's most treasured possession. Her father had taken all her mother's belongings, using grief as an excuse. And yet, here was the necklace, about to be auctioned.

Yasmin's chest heaved with anger. Her gaze hardened as she looked toward the second floor. She needed leverage against the Whitmore family. "Brenda, can you head home? I need to see Caleb again."

Brenda didn't press. "Call if you need anything."

The VIP lounge doors swung open. A radiant woman in a flowing dress stepped inside, searching.

"Yasmin?"

"She's here again?"

Before anyone could react, Yasmin's gaze locked onto Caleb, seated in the center of the room. She strode forward with purpose. The woman beside Caleb stood, blocking her path.

"Miss, what do you think you're doing?"

Yasmin appraised the woman. Pretty, but her feigned innocence was unconvincing. With a sweet smile, Yasmin pointed at Caleb. "Miss, before you try to guard your food, you might want to check whose bowl it belongs to."

"How dare you call me a bitch!" The woman's pretense shattered. Gideon laughed outright. Caleb leaned back, swirling his whiskey, watching Yasmin with amusement. The other men eagerly joined in.

"Well, well, what brings you here, Ms. Whitmore? Checking in on your man?"

"Come on, Yasmin, we all know how you got Caleb to marry you."

"Know your place. Stay out of what's none of your business."

The woman beside Caleb straightened, emboldened.

"Checking in?" Yasmin chuckled, assessing the woman. "If you're aiming for temptation, at least find someone better than me."

The group bristled. Better than her? In looks, figure, and class, Yasmin was undoubtedly top-tier.

Yasmin looked at Caleb. He sipped his drink, detached. He clearly wouldn't help. Without hesitation, she shoved the woman aside, stepped forward, and, in one fluid motion, climbed onto his lap. The silk of her white dress fanned around her, obscuring her legs but emphasizing her curves. It was an effortless seduction that stunned them all.

Caleb hadn't expected this from the usually reserved Yasmin. For a moment, he froze. Instinctively, his hands moved to steady her, preventing her from falling.

"What… are you doing?"

Yasmin leaned in, their noses almost touching. Her eyes curved playfully. Whispering, she murmured, "Mr. Grant, can't wait already?"

To the others, it looked like Yasmin was straddling him, but they couldn't hear her. Caleb's expression, however, made them fall silent. Only Yasmin's soft laughter remained. She glanced at the woman she'd displaced, then cooed, "I told you you're not good enough."

The woman burned with embarrassment. She regretted her hesitation. Caleb cursed under his breath, his voice husky and low, "Get off."

Yasmin flexed her foot, reminding him of her heels. Shamelessly, she claimed, "My feet hurt."

Caleb's Adam's apple bobbed. Without warning, he stood, starting to leave. Yasmin instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Ah! Caleb!"