Chapter 57 We're equal now
JASMINE
Heat spread through me as my hands trembled at my sides. My mind screamed at me to stop him, but my body leaned into him instead. His lips found mine. The kiss started slowly—tentative, questioning. I froze for half a second… then responded.
My fingers slid into his hair.
The kiss deepened.
It turned heated.
His arms tightened around my waist, and I felt myself melt into him. Then reality crashed back into me, I remembered Ray and guilt hit me like a ton of bricks.
I pulled away, breathless “Damien—wait.”
He froze instantly.
My breathing was uneven. My face burned. My heart raced wildly.
“This is wrong,” I whispered. “I don’t understand what I’m feeling.”
I couldn't kiss him when I still hadn't told him what I did. He couldn't know but it was eating me inside, I felt terrible. His eyes searched mine, pain flickering beneath the surface.
“You’re not ready,” he said quietly. “There’s hesitation in you. I see it.”
He stepped back, giving me space.
“But I’ll wait for you, tesoro. I’m not going anywhere.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead instead.
Then, as if nothing emotional had just happened—
“Breakfast?”
I laughed shakily.
“Yeah,” I whispered, blinking away tears.
\~~~
Richelle lay sprawled across Jasmine’s bed, her laptop balanced on her knees as she scrolled through movie listings at the nearby cinemas.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft gold patterns across the walls. The afternoon felt strangely peaceful, almost normal, and Jasmine wished she could enjoy it without the knot of anxiety lodged in her chest.
“Okay,” Richelle said, tilting the screen so Jasmine could see it. “We have a romantic comedy at four, an action movie at six, and a horror movie at nine. Which one screams us?”
Jasmine chuckled faintly and leaned back against her pillows. “Definitely not horror. I don’t need nightmares for the next week.”
Richelle laughed. “Coward.”
“Alive coward,” Jasmine corrected.
They continued chatting, debating genres, showtimes, and whether popcorn or nachos were the superior snack. For a moment, Jasmine almost forgot the storm brewing inside her.
Richelle suddenly glanced up from her screen. “By the way… I was the one who helped you change your dress last night.”
Jasmine froze.
“You did?”
“Yeah. You were barely standing,” Richelle said casually. “Damien carried you upstairs to his room and then call me over like you were glass. I helped you out of the dress and into one of his shirts. Don’t worry—nothing weird happened.”
Relief flooded Jasmine so hard her shoulders sagged.
“Oh thank God,” she whispered.
Richelle smirked. “What? You thought he undressed you himself?”
Jasmine flushed. “I didn’t know what to think.”
“Well, now you do,” Richelle said lightly.
Jasmine nodded, but her thoughts drifted immediately to Damien. The way he had looked at her that morning. The way he had spoken about remembering every moment. He had been trying to unnerve her, and she had practically handed him the challenge.
The day outside looked perfect—bright sky, gentle breeze, warmth lingering in the air. A perfect day to go out.
But Jasmine wasn’t sure if she was allowed to.
Damien had told her her name and face had been cleared from the scandal, but that didn’t mean people wouldn’t recognize her. It didn’t mean someone wouldn’t snap another picture and ruin everything again.
She would have to be careful.
At least Raymond hadn’t called today.
The thought made her stomach twist.
He had been calling her every day since the kiss. Leaving messages. Long ones. Apologetic ones. Confused ones. Emotional ones.
Guilt gnawed at her relentlessly.
She watched Richelle scroll through movie options and wondered if she should tell her everything—about Raymond, about the kiss, about Damien’s reaction, about how torn she felt.
Richelle noticed her stare. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked softly. “You look like you’re about to confess a crime.”
Jasmine forced a smile. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”
Richelle narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying.”
“I’m fine,” Jasmine insisted.
Her phone suddenly rang.
Her heart dropped into her stomach when she saw the name on the screen.
Raymond.
Without thinking, she lunged forward and cut the call.
Richelle’s brows shot up. “Whoa. That was dramatic.”
Jasmine swallowed. “I just… don’t feel like answering right now.”
Richelle studied her carefully. “Does this have something to do with Raymond?”
“No,” Jasmine lied too quickly.
Richelle crossed her arms. “Jasmine.”
“I swear, it’s nothing,” Jasmine said, though her voice shook.
Richelle clearly didn’t believe her, but she let it go.
Meanwhile, Raymond stood in Damien’s living room with a pink gift bag clutched in his hand.
His jaw was tight, his mind racing.
Seeing Jasmine in Damien’s arms the night before had ignited something ugly inside him. The more space he gave her, the more Damien seemed to claim her.
He couldn’t allow that.
He had brought the gift to confess properly. To show her he was serious. To prove he was the better choice.
He called her.
No answer.
He sighed and placed the gift bag carefully on the table, then sat down on the couch.
He tried again.
Upstairs, Jasmine stared at her phone like it was about to explode.
She stood abruptly. “I need the bathroom.”
She shut herself inside and answered in a hushed voice. “Raymond, why are you calling me?”
“Good afternoon, Jasmine,” Raymond said smoothly. “How was your date with Damien last night?”
The venom in his tone was barely hidden beneath politeness.
Her shoulders slumped. “Why did you call me, Raymond?”
There was a pause. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I came to see you.”
Her breath caught. “You’re here?”
“Yes. I’m downstairs.”
Fear slammed into her chest.
She couldn’t let Damien and Raymond be in the same room.
“I’ll come down,” she said quickly. “Just wait.”
She hung up and rushed out.
“Richelle,” she said breathlessly. “Raymond is downstairs. I’ll bring him up so he can help us choose a movie.”
Richelle blinked. “Oh. Okay. Grab snacks.”
Jasmine nodded and hurried away.
Downstairs, Damien walked into the living room—and stopped. Raymond stood there. Damien’s gaze flicked to the pink gift bag on the table. His brow lifted slowly.
Raymond straightened. “How was your trip?”
“Fine,” Damien said coolly. “Dominic has handled the club. Jasmine’s issue is settled.”
Raymond nodded. “Good. I’m glad she can breathe again.”
“What are you doing here?” Damien asked.
“I came to see Jasmine.”
Damien’s eyes darkened. “Who is the bag for?”
Raymond lifted it. “Her.”
“A gift?”
“Yes.”
Damien stepped closer. “Why are you buying gifts for my wife?”
Raymond’s jaw hardened. “She is not your wife.”
Damien’s voice dropped. “She is. And she will be even after the contract ends.”
Raymond smirked. “If kisses make ownership, then we’re equal now.”
Damien froze.
“What did you just say?”
“I kissed her.”
Damien grabbed Raymond by the collar and slammed him into the wall.
Jasmine reached the bottom of the staircase just as Damien’s hand tightened around Raymond’s throat.