The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride

After dinner, Yasmine and Serana tidied up the dining area.

“Cleaning up” was a generous term, considering Serana was doing most of the work.

Yasmine, who had grown up in an orphanage, may not have had the easiest childhood, but she was never required to do chores like cooking, laundering, or chopping wood. Once she left the orphanage, such tasks were even further from her reality. Her hands were soft and beautiful, with slender, pale fingers.

Standing beside Serana at the sink, the most Yasmine would do was to wipe down the already clean dishes. And she had this air about her, as if she had done some monumental task that deserved high praise.

Serana wasn’t much of a talker. It seemed ever since Yasmine started dating Boyd, Serana had become even quieter. The time they spent washing dishes was particularly tough for her. The moment the last plate was dried, she let out a sigh of relief and quickly said, “There’s nothing left to do now, Yasmine. You should get on with your evening.”

Yasmine rinsed her hands under the faucet and watched Serana put away the dishes. “I’ve always meant to say, you have a real knack for cooking and cleaning,” she said.d2

Serana paused for a moment, then smiled at her. “I’m just curious about these things, so I tend to pay more attention. Boyd isn’t too keen on eating out. If you have the time, I could teach you a few of his favorite dishes.”

Yasmine chuckled and shook her head. “No time for that.”

After putting away the utensils, Serana turned and gave her a strained smile. “They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I’m sure Boyd would be delighted if you cooked for him.”

“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?” Yasmine smirked, looking at her. “Is that what you thought back then?”

Serana’s smile froze instantly. Her eyes locked with Yasmine’s for a few seconds before she forced herself to look away, her grip tightening on the edge of the countertop. “It seems like you’ve misunderstood something about us,” Serana said softly.

Yasmine observed her for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter. “Why so tense? Who did I misunderstand you with?” she teased.

Serana bit her lip, replying quietly, “Nothing…”

Noticing Serana’s trembling hand on the counter, Yasmine’s eyes sharpened. “Thank you for the meal,” she said.

Serana didn’t reply, only managing a stiff smile.

Yasmine left the kitchen, thinking Serana’s smile was more unsettling than comforting.

Boyd was lounging on the sofa, perusing the stack of books she’d brought over, exuding a mature, reserved charm that struck a chord with her. She approached and held out her hand. Puzzled, he took her hand and kissed it lightly.

Yasmine looked at him with faint disgust. “I wanted you to smell it, not kiss it.”

“It smells nice,” he said.

“I just washed dishes. So you like the scent of dish soap?”

Boyd pulled her down beside him, his brow furrowing with suspicion. “You? Washing dishes?”

Yasmine pressed her lips together tighter, withdrawing her hand. “I did half the work.”

Boyd chuckled and reached into the drawer under the coffee table, pulling out a tube of hand cream. He squeezed a generous amount onto Yasmine’s hands and began to massage it in.

The faint scent of flowers filled the air. Once her hands were soft and moisturized, Boyd kissed them again, content.

“Don’t do that again,” he said.

Yasmine arched an eyebrow, admiring her well-cared-for hands. “Fine, since you asked so nicely, I won’t make it difficult for you.”

Boyd laughed, shaking his head as he gently tugged at her ear. “Staying over tonight?”

Yasmine gave him a languid look. “Not going back until you finish my paper.”

“Really?” Boyd paused, hand still on her ear.

Yasmine smirked and pushed his hand away. “Of course. But until it’s done, all those things you’re thinking about are off the table.”

Boyd’s frown deepened at her words.

Yasmine patted his shoulder. “No room for negotiation.”

glanced at the books on the coffee table. “What about starting

cut him

“Five days from now.”

“No.”

“Three days.”

“No.”

table, scooped Yasmine into his arms, and headed for

night,

Yasmine put her hand over his

removed her hand. “She’ll

after she leaves. I’m

joking, Boyd

got out of bed. “I’m

—

in the bedroom. She dried her hair

speaking with a detached tone on the sofa. “You still have two years before graduation. You’re thinking about this

think

moment before conceding, “If you’ve really decided,

breathed a sigh of

but she had a guess

her eyes lingering on her for a

Yasmine a glass of water. “It’s at

Serana pick up an orange peel from the coffee table

her of the way Bryson’s wife, Aliza, would play the part of the gentle and capable wife at home. She would cook a table of dishes that her husband and son liked, tidy the house until it was spotless, and always

water glass, half-drunk, was handed to

grabbed a couple of trash bags and

didn’t know any better, I’d

he finished the water and set the glass on the coffee table. “Good thing

at the doorway, her gaze briefly intense before it faded away. She looked at

be it. What’s there

placing her back on the bed in the bedroom. “Being mistaken for a maid after an afternoon’s hard work—I doubt

was shallow, “So are you relieved she wasn’t upset, or that I didn’t make

moment. “Is

why did you feel

you’ve pointed out the difference, if I were to speak now, the

one I don’t want to hear,” Yasmine said with a smile, but pushed him away and

while, a small smile curling his

at him. “If you don’t shower, go sleep in another room, or shall I go?” With that, she lifted

and covered her again, his tone tinged with resignation, “I’ll take a

didn’t reply, diving back into her mobile

—

already nestled under the blankets, her phone set aside, her

slipped under the covers, and

smiled lightly,

Yasmine dodged him. “Do you think I was

Boyd paused, “So…”

faint smile, “So let’s start with that paper

pulled her firmly into his embrace. Yasmine stared at the well-defined muscles on his chest for a

Boyd was gone. She got out of bed, washed up, opened the closet,

apartment, her clothes had pushed his to a corner—a pitiful sight to see. She pushed

on having her there. The clothes were his own stubborn arrangement. Hadn’t he

back and headed out, only to be greeted by

cheerfully, “Morning, Yasmine.

to be told,

up at her arrival, clearly waiting to have

a sip

take you to school after breakfast.