Page 5 of A Million Shades Of Love and Betrayal

She was perfect for the role and if I was being honest, I was glad she was heartbroken, it made it easier for her not to fall in love with me. I wasn't looking for a love match and it was important we knew that.

Lost in thought, I absentmindedly plated the breakfast, arranging the eggs and bacon with practiced precision. I poured two cups of coffee, the rich aroma mingling with the tantalizing scent of food. As I carried the plates to the table, I couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation that lingered.

I was suddenly jolted back to reality by the echo of footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, I found myself face to face with Yasmin, clad in nothing but one of my button-down shirts. For a moment, my breath caught in my throat, and all I could do was trace the curve of her figure beneath the fabric. The novelty of her being in my shirt coupled with the fact that her very long bare legs were plain to be seen, left me reeling with emotions I wasn't prepared to handle.

I quickly averted my eyes, cursing myself for the sudden rush of desire that surged through me. This wasn't supposed to happen. Sure, I noticed she was an immensely attractive woman, but my body wasn't supposed to be as weak to her charms as it was. I was stronger than this, damn it!

"Good morning," Yasmin greeted with a smile, her voice breaking through the haze that seemed to cloud my thoughts.

"Morning," I replied, my voice a little hoarse as I cleared my throat. I gestured to the table and did my best not to let my gaze fall to her legs again. "I made breakfast. Help yourself."

She nodded appreciatively, crossing the room to joinme at the table. As she settled into a chair, I couldn't help but steal glances at her, my mind still reeling from the unexpected sight of her in my clothes. It wasn't that unexpected since I was the one who gave her the shirt, but I wasn't expecting the way my body reacted. I silently chided myself for the flutter of attraction I felt, quickly reminding myself of the rules I mentally put in place for this to work. Thankfully she didn't notice, or she decided to ignore it, either way, I was grateful. I silently took a seat, adding food to my plate.

"So, about our arrangement," she began, her tone businesslike as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "We need to discuss how we'll present ourselves to the world."

I nodded in agreement, sipping my coffee thoughtfully. "I've been giving it some thought as well," I admitted. "It wouldn't do for us to raise any suspicions. I have a friend who's hosting a gala next weekend," I offered. "It's sure to be filled with the city's elite. If we show up together, it'll definitely turn heads."

Yasmin considered my suggestion for a moment before nodding in approval. "That sounds perfect," she agreed. "It'll be a great way for us to get everyone's attention."

I couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at her approval. I could have easily made the plans and discussed them with her later, but I thought better of it, and I was glad I did. "It's settled then."

"There's one thing we haven't discussed," she began hesitantly, "Ethan... I can't help but worry about how he'll react when he hears about us or worse, what he'll do when he sees us."

I paused, considering her words carefully before responding. She was right, it was likely that Ethan would make a scene and demand to know what was going on between us but even while he would be dying to do just that he wouldn't. His marriage to her was kept out of the public eye, to everyone else it never happened, the only reason I knew was because of the private investigator I hired to keep an eye on him. "Yasmin, remember that your marriage to Ethan was never public. Unless he's walking around with the marriage certificate, no one would have reason to believe him," I reassured her gently, hoping I didn't upset her.

Her expression softened slightly at my words, though a hint of sadness lingered in her eyes. It was clear that despite the circumstances of their divorce, the thought of Ethan's disapproval still weighed heavily on her mind. I wish there were something I could do to help her but all I had to offer her was money and revenge.

Nevertheless, her spirits seemed to lift as quickly as they had faltered. With a determined glint in her eye, she straightened in her seat, a newfound resolve evident in her demeanor. "You're right," she agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Yasmin continued, her smile widening, "By the way, what's your type in women?"

I raised a brow surprised by her sudden question. "My type?"

"Yeah, or what does the media think your type is?"

That wasn't what I expected her to ask, in fact, no one has ever really asked me what I looked for in a woman. Being blessed with good looks and a rich family ensured that I never had to do much to impress a woman, because of that I've dated all sorts of women.

"I don't know, blonde?" the look she gave me made me want to hide behind my phone. "I've never really thought about it."

She sighed dramatically, throwing her hands in the air. "I guess I'll just pick a random color then."

"You could do black," I spoke without thinking. "You have stunning eyes; a darker color would make them stand out more."

She looked at me as if I was crazy and then a large smile graced her lips. "Thar’s an amazing idea," she exclaimed, her eyes alight with excitement.

-5-

Yasmin

Change was a requirement after every breakup, an unspoken rule for every woman. The second you break up with someone you should start thinking about ways to make yourself different- you should no longer resemble the woman he once knew. Instead, you should become the hotter, more improved version of yourself.

It was time I made some changes.

Gone was the soft woman who would have done anything- endured anything- to stay by her husband’s side. Months of being bullied by his mom and sister have left me tired and not in the mood for anyone's bullshit. His words and how easily he tossed me aside were all the motivation I needed to leave him in the dust. All that was left was a woman hellbent on getting revenge.

"I've never thought of myself with dark hair," I mused as I continued to scroll through inspo pics on Pinterest. Ever since Rafael mentioned how good I'd look with black hair it’s all I could think of. I even stopped eating the delicious breakfast he prepared to figure out how dark I wanted my hair to be.

"You'd look stunning with it," he pointed out, seemingly oblivious to how my heart skipped a beat at his compliment. "Not that you don't look beautiful now," he continued a nervous tinge to his tone.

I smiled softly in his direction, hoping to ease his nerves. "I know what you mean."

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