Chapter 1898


    “Hey there, I''m a bartender at The Jazz Cat, and it looks like the guy who owns this phone had one


    too many. Could you swing by and pick him up?”


    Yasmine shifted in her chair, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. She had no intention of


    getting up. “Why me? He’s got a whole contact list in there. Get someone else to fetch him.”


    “Huh?” The bartender sounded perplexed. “Aren''t you his girlfriend?”


    There was a pause as Yasmine pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. “Fine, I got


    it.”


    She hung up, standing abruptly, all traces of patience leaving her expression. This was just great,


    she thought, saddled with this ‘girlfriend’ title and all the hassle it brought.


    Heading to the bar? And getting stered too? Unbelievable.d2


    The air was getting cooler outside, so Yasmine grabbed a loose-fitting tee and threw a trench coat


    over it, making sure she was wrapped up snugly before grabbing her car keys and heading out.


    Bars were the pulse of the night, noisy and alive. The moment Yasmine pushed open the door of


    The Jazz Cat, the heavy bass of a rock song pounded through her, as if the very beat was throbbing


    in her veins. She frowned, her eyes shing with clear disdain.


    There was Boyd at the bar, slumped over, still clutching a whiskey ss, his eyes shut tight, a


    crease of difort etched between his brows. Despite his drunken state, his tailored ck cks


    and crisp white shirt gave him a distinguished air, and even in this state, there wasn''t a hint of


    disarray.


    Getting closer, Yasmine noticed his shirt was undone at the top, the bar lights dancing on his


    exposed skin. He might have looked reserved, even austere, but now he seemed more like a


    yboy, covered in the metaphorical scent of too many flirtatious encounters, his elegance tinged


    with a reckless charm.


    At this moment, his every move seemed calcted to ensnare, emanating an aura that suggested


    he was ripe for the taking.


    Yasmine didn''t know how many women had approached him before she arrived, but in the few


    minutes she stood by his side, two had already been sent away, their advances rebuffed.


    With a snort, she wondered whether to praise him for his restraint.


    Unable to stand the chaos and the stifling atmosphere any longer, Yasmine stepped forward and


    pushed him. “Had enough?”


    The bartender nced at her, noting the gray trench coat and her natural beauty, unenhanced by


    makeup.


    For some reason, the name "Yasmine" sprang to his mind. It suited the woman in front of him


    perfectly.


    And Boyd, who had been impervious to a dozen advances, finally stirred at her touch. He propped


    himself up, squinting at her for a moment before azy smile yed on his lips, and his hand


    reached out to caress Yasmine’s cheek.


    She scowled, tilting her head away. “What are you doing?”


    His hand shifted to her shoulder, his voice a slurred whisper, “Yasmine...”


    Her heart skipped, unbidden. Who gave him the right to call her like that? She swatted his hand


    away, her voice icy. “Are we going or not?”


    Boyd looked at her for a moment longer, then nodded. “Yeah, let''s go.”


    The bartender watched, his jaw ck with surprise. He''d never have expected that the standoffish


    man would suddenly be as docile as a child fearful of being abandoned.


    Yasmine swept a disdainful gaze around the ce, her disgust in on her face. “I don’t like this


    ce. Move it.”


    With that, she stuffed her hands into her pockets and walked away, not even bothering to help


    steady Boyd.


    The bartender was stunned. In a sh, he saw the handsome man struggle to stand from the high


    stool, nearly falling before steadying himself against the bar.


    When the bartender looked up again, he saw Yasmine, already several paces away, her expression


    difficult to discern. This was definitely one way to pick someone up.


    “Yasmine...”


    Boyd called after her, his voice carrying a wounded edge.


    Slowly, Yasmine''s pace faltered, and Boyd staggered forward to catch up, his hand resting on her


    shoulder. His tall frame enveloped her almostpletely.


    The smell of liquor on him, mingled with the aroma of the bar, ignited a re of anger within her.


    “Boyd!”


    “Yasmine, my head''s spinning...”


    She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and forcefully suppressed her rage. “You''ve got


    assistants, you''ve got Serana, and yet you drag me out here. What is it, am I just freebor to you?”


    She shoved him into the car. “Did I murder your family in a past life to deserve you tormenting me


    like this?”


    mming the car door with a thud, Yasmine climbed into the driver''s seat, her face taut with


    tension.


    Three years had passed, and Boyd had always been open with her. His voracious reading since


    childhood hadn''t been for nothing.


    She could run a library, manage a clothing factory, so it wasn''t surprising that Boyd had apany


    under his belt, aiming to go public in the next couple of years.


    While others struggled with job hunting after college, he was preupied with hispany''s IPO.


    While others toiled for a living, he had a house, a car, and a flourishing career.


    The saying went, ''A child born in poverty bes the head of the household early.'' This guy


    always managed to stand out from the rest.


    In the city''s prime location, he had acquired a new apartment the previous year.


    Two apartments, onerge, one small. Therge one was in his name. The smaller one, in another


    building, was registered under Serana''s name.


    After all these years, he always considered Serana in his ns, so Yasmine was hardly surprised.


    Ever since they had reconnected in college, Serana and Boyd seemed inseparably linked in her


    eyes.


    So many things had be second nature to her. When she saw something, she''d instinctively get


    two, one for Boyd, and one for Serana.


    Maybe she truly believed that the childhood years before they were ten were just child''s y. Now,


    even though it was still the three of them, their thoughts slightly diverged, and their interactions


    remained mostly peaceful.


    Standing at the door to Boyd''s apartment, her fingerprint granted her ess.


    Once inside, she dropped him unceremoniously onto the sofa. The apartment was spacious, with a


    sleek, luxurious design and cutting-edge technology at every turn.


    Nine years had passed since she''d moved out of the orphanage, and yet, her cozy little nook


    remained as in and inviting as it had been back then. Yasmine curled her lip slightly, an inkling of


    jealous stirring within her.


    Pouring him a ss of water and setting it down on the coffee table, she kept one for herself,


    sipping as she prodded the man sprawled on the couch. No reaction. With a sigh, she took a seat at


    the coffee table.


    After she finished her drink, she nudged him again. "Drink up, then go take a shower and hit the


    hay!"


    Boyd turned over, his dark eyes calm and profound. His clothes were a shambolic mess, yet he had


    an air of rakish charm, with a hint of roguishness.


    Boyd just stared at her for a long time before leaning back into the couch. "Dizzy," he mumbled.


    Yasmine, seeing his shirt cor pull open even further from his movement, pressed her fingers to


    her temples. She shouldn''t have watched that soap opera before leaving the house. Now, even


    ncing at Boyd had her mind wandering into dangerous territory.


    To avoid being further seduced by this man, she stood up, ready to leave this den of temptation.


    Before walking out, she nced at the water ss on the coffee table and kicked his knee. "Drink


    up and scram to the shower. I''m outta here."


    Boyd''s eyes seemed to flicker.


    "Did you hear me?!"


    After another kick, Boyd suddenly grabbed hold of her ankle. Caught off guard by his sudden


    movement, Yasmine wobbled on one foot and then, with a tightening grip at her waist, she toppled


    onto the couch.


    Except for that one time she''d tumbled down a hill at age ten, she couldn''t recall ever being in such


    a disheveled state.


    Straddling Boyd, her mind was a scrambled mess. As she regained herposure, she noticed


    Boyd''s dark eyes fixated on her, deep with unfathomable thoughts.


    She tried to get up, only to realize he was holding her tightly.


    "Yasmine..." He spoke up suddenly, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine, especially with


    the noticeable change beneath her.


    An icy displeasure spread across her face as she snapped, "Boyd, let go."


    Boyd, however, seemed deaf to her demand, his gaze roaming freely over her clear, luminous face.


    Yasmine grew increasingly uneasy, aware of the danger of being alone with a drunkard. She


    pushed down hard on his shoulders, desperate to break free, but suddenly found herself pinned


    beneath him after a dizzying flip.


    Her heart skipped a beat as she red down at him, propping herself up on his shoulders. "Boyd,


    you''re not drunk, are you?"


    "Should I be drunk or not, Yasmine?"


    He leaned closer, his nose brushing against hers, his intense eyes causing her heart to lose its


    rhythm. "Yasmine, can''t we just get along? Tell me you love me, Yasmine. Please?"


    Yasmine froze.


    Staring at the man before her, his words echoed in her mind. Love?


    Her eyes narrowed with a clear chill. Her voice was as cold as ice. "What are you babbling about?"


    Boyd brushed the hair from her forehead, his eyes greedy as he took in her delicate features. "We


    can be a couple."


    "Boyd!" Yasmine''s voice cut through sharply. "Have you lost your mind?"


    Boyd moved her hands from his shoulder to above her head, pressing down firmly. "Yeah, you''re


    right, I have lost it. But there''s no reason we can''t be together, is there?"


    Yasmine''s mind was in turmoil, struggling to break free, but the hand above her head was


    unyielding.


    Boyd''s lips descended, and as his wet touch invaded her territory, her mind exploded, unable to find


    any sense of grounding. She''d never really experienced love; the most she''d done was kiss Boyd in


    the cafeteria three years ago, and that had been nothing more than a peck on the lips. Now, feeling


    his kiss, she didn’t know how to react.


    "Yasmine... Yasmine..."


    Her momentary daze allowed Boyd to call her name, his voice gently stroking every nerve in her


    body.


    After years of yearning for Yasmine, Boyd finally held her close, using alcohol as a pretext for such


    intimacy. He was cautious, the long-suppressed desire to have her stirring uncontrobly within him.


    His warm, moist kisses trailed from her lips, down her smooth jawline, and along her neck to the


    hollow of her corbone. The intimacy of their touch made her whole body hypersensitive. Yasmine


    couldn’t resist the tingling sensation. His touch was maic, and her body seemed filled with


    countless fine iron filings, all surging to the surface of her skin.


    She disliked this loss of control, being without the right to govern herself, and having to follow his


    lead and intentions – this dependency was truly unappealing.


    "Boyd..."


    Regaining a fraction of her senses, she regretted not keeping her coat buttoned up, which had


    made it all too easy for this drunken lunatic to take advantage of her.


    Underneath her loose homewear, his wandering hand was already causing chaos.


    Suppressing the maic reactions his touch elicited, she found her leverage and tried to push


    herself up, her voice trembling. "Boyd, sober up. Do you have any idea what will happen if you keep


    this up?!"


    Boyd paused, his eyes alight with heavy desire. His hand caressed her neck, the other gently


    lowering her propped elbow, as he lowered her back onto the couch, pressing his forehead against


    hers, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. "If I let go of you now, would the oue be any


    different?"


    Yasmine''s brow furrowed, and Boyd let out a faint, bitter chuckle. "Don''t bother with that lie,


    Yasmine. You don''t even believe it yourself."


    "Boyd..." Yasmine felt not only a shiver down her spine but also a fear seeping through her.


    "Stop, Yasmine. I don’t want to hear your words right now. You know what I want to hear isn''t what


    you''re about to say. Can''t I just love you? I can''t let anyone else have you. You can''t belong to them,


    you know."


    Yasmine was stunned silent again.


    Love her? Who could possibly love her?


    To whom would she ever belong? Who was destined to be her man?


    Her mind drew a nk. She had never considered the questions before.


    To be this close, or even more intimate, with another man? Her brow furrowed tighter, a wave of


    revulsion unlike any she''d felt before welled up within her.


    Yet, at that moment, Boyd seemed to be testing her limits, leaning in closer as if drawn by a


    maic force.


    Their breaths mingled, and Yasmine’s eyes fluttered slightly. That sense of disgust, it seemed to


    falter somewhat in Boyd’s presence.Original from N?velDrama.Org.