Chapter 142

I pretended not to hear and kept walking. Jared caught up, grabbing my arm. “What’s wrong now?”

I stared at his face, mentally picturing him as a stack of hundred-dollar bills to keep my temper in check. “What do you want?” I asked flatly.

“My cousin’s getting married tomorrow. We’re going to Shariport tonight,” he said, right there in the middle of the hallway.

I knew this cousin, a university professor. Scrolling through my memories of my previous life, I vaguely recalled my mother-in-law mentioning the wedding.

Back then, Jared had gone alone. Of course, "alone" in his world had never truly meant alone. There had always been a certain companion—Tracy, no doubt.

So, color me surprised. Jared actually wanted me to go this time. Tracy must be seething.

“I’ve got a lot on my plate right now,” I said, deliberately dismissive. “Maybe I’ll sit this one out.”

Part of my new mission in this life was to emotionally detach—and, when possible, subtly needle him. Payback for the lifetime of neglect he’d served me.

Jared’s expression darkened. “He’s my closest cousin. My parents can’t make it, so we’re representing the family. You not going would be disrespectful.”

“Are we taking Yvonne?” The last thing I wanted was a long trip with her.

“No. Just us.” His voice was clipped.

A business hub like Shariport was exactly where I needed to be. Networking opportunities, industry elites—attending as Jared Holcomb’s wife would open doors for my career.

Plus, I’d been planning to grow a TikTok presence for the hotel. This trip could give me content worth filming.

“Fine. I’ll wrap up work and pack,” I said, shaking off his grip and striding toward my office.

Through the glass reflection, I saw him standing rigidly, frustration etched between his brows.

That evening, we rode in silence to the airport. “We didn’t tell Yvonne about Shariport, did we?” Jared asked abruptly.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Good. No need to upset her.” His voice softened, the same indulgent tone he always used when it came to her.

I didn’t reply, turning to watch the city lights blur past.

The airport buzzed with travelers. Jared and I traveled light, breezing through security before settling in the VIP lounge.

He was all sharp angles and tailored businesswear, his million-dollar watch glinting under the lights as he typed away on his laptop, every inch the elite CEO.

I took my coffee outside, leaning against the glass to watch planes take off. No need to sit with him.

When I returned, three giggling girls had clustered near Jared, their cheeks pink as they nudged each other, clearly angling for his number.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway, watching. Ah, youth. Bold, hopeful, unburdened.

Not like me. Though my body was young again, my soul felt like a wasteland, ravaged and barren. But perhaps that was the very point of a second life: to rebuild hope, brick by stubborn brick, atop the ruins of my previous life.

Finally, one of the girls gathered her courage and approached Jared for his number. He looked up from his laptop, momentarily confused, before his gaze flickered past her, straight to me standing in the doorway.

“Sorry,” he said, voice cool. “My wife is right there. She might get the wrong idea.”

Three pairs of eyes snapped to me. The girls flushed and scurried away like startled deer.

I almost felt bad for them. They were clearly well-bred, dressed in designer labels, probably just smitten by Jared’s sharp suit and CEO aura, hoping for a whirlwind meet-cute.

But they didn’t know Jared. The reckless impulsiveness of his youth was long gone. The man who’d once spotted me in a crowd and pursued me with feverish intensity, who’d married me in a blaze of passion… that man no longer existed.

Marrying me was probably the one impulsive decision he’d come to regret. Seduced by my face, only to realize too late that beneath the pretty packaging, I was utterly mismatched for his world.

Those girls had picked the wrong era. This Jared was calculated, controlled, no longer the type to be swayed by a pretty smile.

I thought back to what he’d said at the church. “I care about my reputation.” It made sense now. A rising entrepreneur couldn’t afford scandals. Even in our previous life, he’d never been one for affairs. Tracy was the sole exception.

God, I’d been so petty back then. I’d actually hired a nineteen-year-old to seduce him, just to drive a wedge between them. It backfired spectacularly.

When the girl tearfully returned his jacket—the one he’d told her to “just throw away”—I’d realized the truth: Tracy was the only woman he’d ever let in.

“Victoria.” Jared’s voice snapped me back to the present. “Let me have a sip of your coffee.”

Without thinking, I tipped my head back and drained the cup, then flashed him the empty liner before tossing it into the trash. His eyebrow twitched.

At the boarding, Jared stood close behind me. Ahead, a hyperactive kid shoved his parent, who stumbled back into me, sending me colliding into Jared’s chest.

His arm instantly hooked around my waist, steadying me. “You okay?” he murmured, breath warm against my ear.

The parent apologized profusely. I nodded stiffly and stepped forward, but Jared’s hand lingered—just a fraction too long—before falling away. When I glanced back, his jaw was tight, expression unreadable.

On the plane, I feigned sleep. Jared didn’t bother me, just slid on his noise-canceling headphones.

Shariport, a city of legends, with a magnetic allure that drew travelers from all over the world. By the time we arrived, night had already fallen. Jared had booked us a hotel near Victoria Harbour, where the glittering skyline stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.

But I wasn’t here for the view. My mind was preoccupied with a more pressing question: How were we going to handle sleeping arrangements tonight?

The last time we spoke, Jared had promised he wouldn’t force anything between us. I could only hope he’d keep his word.

Fresh out of the shower, Jared walked over, his dark hair still damp. He stood beside me, gazing out at the city lights before suddenly asking, “Would you like to own a place here?”

I turned to him, startled. He gestured toward a distant cluster of high-rises. “There’s a new luxury development going up over there. We should check it out tomorrow.”

My breath hitched, my pulse quickening. Again with the money—Jared knew exactly how to dangle the right bait.