The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride

“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 plastered 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 flashing with clear disdain.

There was Boyd at the bar, slumped over, still clutching a whiskey glass, his eyes shut tight, a crease of discomfort etched between his brows. Despite his drunken state, his tailored black slacks 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 playboy, covered in the metaphorical scent of too many flirtatious encounters, his elegance tinged with a reckless charm.

At this moment, his every move seemed calculated 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 glanced 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 a lazy smile played 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 slack with surprise. He’d never have expected that the standoffish man would suddenly become as docile as a child fearful of being abandoned.

Yasmine swept a disdainful gaze around the place, her disgust plain on her face. “I don’t like this place. 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 flash, he saw the handsome man struggle to stand from the high stool, nearly falling before steadying himself against the bar.

the bartender looked up again, he saw Yasmine, already several paces away, her expression difficult to discern. This was definitely one way to pick

“Yasmine…”

called after her, his voice carrying a

catch up, his hand resting on her shoulder. His

with the aroma of the bar, ignited a

“Yasmine, my head’s spinning…”

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

your family in a

the car door with a thud, Yasmine climbed into the driver’s

and Boyd had always been open with her. His voracious reading since

so it wasn’t surprising that Boyd had

IPO. While others toiled for a living, he had a house, a car,

‘A child born in poverty becomes the head of the household early.’ This guy

he had acquired a

small. The large one was in his name. The smaller one, in another building, was

in his plans, so Yasmine was hardly surprised. Ever since they had reconnected in college, Serana and Boyd

become second nature to her. When she saw something, she’d instinctively get

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

to Boyd’s apartment, her fingerprint

apartment was spacious, with a sleek, luxurious design and cutting-edge

plain and inviting as it had been

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

him again. “Drink up, then go take a shower and hit

were a shambolic mess, yet he

just stared at her for a long time before leaning back into the

seeing his shirt collar 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 glancing at Boyd had

by this man, she stood up, ready to leave this

the water glass on the coffee table and

seemed

“Did you hear me?!”

grabbed hold of her ankle. Caught off guard by his sudden movement, Yasmine wobbled on one foot and then, with a tightening

hill at age ten, she couldn’t recall ever being in such

her mind was a scrambled mess. As she regained her composure, she

only to realize he was holding her

deep voice sending shivers down her spine, especially with the

face as she snapped, “Boyd, let

his

down hard on his shoulders, desperate

she glared down at him, propping herself up on his shoulders. “Boyd, you’re not drunk, are

drunk or not,

hers, his intense eyes causing her heart to lose its rhythm. “Yasmine, can’t we just get along? Tell

Yasmine froze.

before her, his words echoed in her

chill. Her voice was as cold as

forehead, his eyes greedy as he took in her delicate features. “We can

through sharply. “Have you lost your

to above her head, pressing down firmly. “Yeah, you’re right, I have lost it. But there’s no reason