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Yolanda returned to lan’s room and found him struggling to apply spray medication to his own back.
She closed the door, removed her mask and hat, and set them on a shelf. When he saw her, he went completely still.
Without a word, she took the bottle from his hand, sprayed the medicine evenly across his back, and remembered it needed to be rubbed in.
After a brief hesitation, she laid her fingers gently against his skin, and ler shuddered faintly at once. Then she began to massage,
His muscles were solid and defined beneath her touch. She could feel their tension as she worked the medicine in. When she was done, Yolanda quickly made her way to the bathroom to wash her hands.
The bathroom was tiny, so cramped she could barely move. Bending over the sink, she squeezed soap into her palms and scrubbed thoroughly.
Then the door opened. Ian filled the doorway, tall and broad, stepping inside without a word.
Yolanda froze, and then hurriedly ducked her head to rinse the soap away, anxious to be done and out of
there.
But he was blocking the exit. Slowly, he turned the faucet on. The sound of rushing water brought back memories of that stormy day.
He wet his hands, but skipped the soap. Instead, he took her hand and gathered some of the suds from her own. Thick, slick foam coated their skin. She could feel tiny bubbles bursting between their fingers with faint. soft pops.
She glanced up and caught his eyes in the mirror. He wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he just looked down at their hands, rubbing them together quietly.
Trapped, with no way out, Yolanda cranked the water back on full force and tried to wash the tension away.
The air was thick with unspoken words, heavy like soap suds. She couldn’t stand it. She had never felt anything this tense, not even with Charles.
Eventually, lan rinsed off. But he still didn’t move.
Yolanda’s fingers curled tightly at her sides. She turned sideways, voice tight with a panic she didn’t quite understand. “Move. I need to get out.”
He didn’t budge.
She kept her head down, too nervous to meet his eyes, her eyelashes fluttering like trapped wings.
She had grown up in the gilded cage of the Grant family since she was ten. She was always proper and shielded, her world a curated collection of polished people and impeccable manners.
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Chapter 37
But here, in this cramped bathroom, something raw and unfamiliar stirred deep within her.
It was in that moment she suddenly understood why someone as relined as Charles would seek thrills in a grimy alley. People could be foolish that way. The thrill of the new was a potent temptation.
Just when she was certain Ian would say something, he simply moved aside. The intensity in his posture dissolved as quickly as it had appeared. A silent sigh of relief escaped her.
The space was too narrow. As he turned to let her pass, the rough fabric of his clothes brushed against hers. The brief contact sent a shiver through her.
And once she was free of the bathroom, a sudden weakness washed over her. But it was also a strange, comforting warmth that lingered in her chest.
Trying to regain her composure, she bent to organize the medicine on the table. “You’ll need these later,” she said. “Wayne won’t be a problem anymore. I spoke with the director. In two weeks, you’ll go back to Beloris and shoot that coffee endorsement.
From the bathroom, his voice was low. “Yeah.”
Her throat felt parched, as if all the moisture had been leeched from her body. She grabbed a cup from the table and took a large gulp. I’m leaving now. If something like this happens again, call me immediately. Ian, don’t let this happen again.”
“Yeah.” His agreement was quiet, almost absent, and she couldn’t tell if he was really listening.
Yolanda had said all there was to say. The drive back would take more than five hours; she wouldn’t be home until well past 10 p.m.
Even though she’d told Charles in a fury that she wasn’t going back, the thought of facing another humiliating inspection was even worse.
She opened the door to leave, but arms wrapped tightly around her waist, firm and unyielding-
Yolanda froze, her grip tightening on the doorknob. She lowered her gaze to the hands locked around her. They were long and graceful, with pronounced knuckles she recognized instantly.
Her back was flush against lan’s chest. She could feel the intense heat radiating from him. There was a rawness to his strength, something held tightly in check, and it unnerved her in a way she couldn’t name.
Slowly, she raised her own hands and began prying his fingers loose, one by one. “Focus on your filming.” she said, her voice quieter than she intended.
He didn’t respond, didn’t fight her. He just watched, silent and tense, as the door finally swung open–and then closed between them.
Yolanda got into her car and drove off without looking back. Halfway home, a burst of spring flowers caught her eye along the roadside.
She pulled over, hands still clenched on the steering wheel. Drawing a shaky breath, she rubbed her face as if she could wipe away the tangled thoughts. Then, shaking her head clear, she put the car back in gear and
7:44 Thu, Sep 11
Chapter 37
continued on.
The four–hour round trip on winding mountain roads had left her car spattered with mud, the wheels and undercarriage caked in dirt. Instead of heading straight back to Moonbay Estate, she detoured to a car wash.
It was past eleven by the time she finally pulled into the courtyard. Normally, she’d have been asleep by now -her routine was strict: up at six a.m., lights out by ten pam.
As the engine quicted, her phone buzzed with a message from Seam: [Wayne got replaced. Was that you? Word is his backer is furious and dropped him completely.J
Yolanda let out a quiet snort. Men like Wayne, who started bullying people the second they got a linle power,
never lasted.
Besides, Rachael had never been his biggest fan. The way she’d looked at Charles that day was pure,
unguarded admiration. Maybe it was love. Charles, however, was heartless; he kept love and sex in completely separate boxes.
She typed back: [Just a small nudge. Is there a new lead?]
Sam’s reply was almost immediate: [Yes, and they’re reworking the script. The old one was built entirely around Wayne to push him. A new version could actually make the show better.]
Ian caught a lucky break, Yolanda replied. A hit show can make a lot of people famous.
A faint smile touched her lips as she was about to type another message, but a familiar prickle ran down her spine the unmistakable feeling of being watched. She looked up. There, standing on the second–floor balcony, was Charles.
Charles held a cigarette between his fingers, the breeze ruffling his hair. “Sweetheart, you’re late.”
Yolanda’s heart gave a nervous flutter. Trying to sound casual, she asked, “No overtime today?”
He stubbed out the cigarette. I’ve been home on time all week.
Actually, she hadn’t noticed. After all, she’d moved into the bedroom at the far end of the hall.
He leaned against the doorframe, studying her with a lazy tilt of his head. “I dropped by your studio earlier. The interior looks good.”
Her grip tightened around her phone. ‘Why did Charles go to my studio? He’s never shown any interest in me before. This feels off. If he starts paying attention now, he might find out I’m Tessa.
Chapter 38
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
Part 1: The Discovery of BetrayalYolanda Grant’s marriage was built on patience, sacrifice, and quiet endurance — but that illusion shattered in one night. It was late when she arrived at a dark, empty alley after receiving a mysterious message with an address. At first, she thought it was a misunderstanding. After all, her husband Charles Sinclair — a man of wealth, power, and refined taste — would never lower himself to something so vulgar. But when she saw him holding a young woman in his arms, kissing and touching her like a man possessed, every ounce of denial drained from her. Charles, the proud and disciplined businessman, was cheating — and in a filthy alleyway, no less.Part 2: The Scene of HumiliationFrom the safety of her car, Yolanda watched as the scene unfolded. The woman clinging to Charles was frail, trembling, and emotional, like a flower blooming in the mud. The surroundings — the stained floor, damp walls, and suffocating darkness — mocked everything Charles had always claimed to be. This wasn’t just infidelity; it was degradation. Yolanda’s mind swirled with disbelief. Her husband, who obsessed over class and perfection, had become a man of impulse and dirt. She didn’t confront him or make a scene; she didn’t even cry. Instead, she leaned back in her seat, numb, realizing that her marriage was already over in spirit.Part 3: Two Years of DevotionAs she sat there, flashes of the past flooded her mind. Two years of marriage — two years of her trying to please him in every way. She had known from the start that Charles didn’t love her. On their wedding day, he had made it painfully clear that his heart already belonged to another woman. Still, Yolanda married him out of hope, out of love, out of the foolish belief that devotion could melt even the coldest heart. She gave up her career, her ambitions, and her independence, just to prove she was worthy of him. She cared for him like a nurse for her patient — cooking his meals, planning his wardrobe, and tending to every detail of his life. And in return, she got nothing but distance and silence.Part 4: The Breaking PointNow, watching him entwined with another woman, everything she had built inside her — the patience, the sacrifice, the illusion — collapsed. The man she had once called her husband had become unrecognizable. He had torn off his noble mask and revealed himself as nothing more than a beast driven by desire. Yolanda felt like she’d been slapped, her dignity shattered into pieces. But instead of screaming or crying, she felt an eerie calm. Her pain was too deep to express. All she could think was: This marriage must end.Part 5: Charles’s UneaseWhile Yolanda drove home, Charles suddenly sensed that something was wrong. The headlights of a passing car illuminated his face, and a chill ran down his spine. He didn’t know whose car it was, but unease stirred in his chest. The girl in his arms whimpered for his attention, but his mind was already elsewhere. Straightening his clothes, he pulled away coldly. “That’s enough for tonight,” he said flatly. “The company’s got big projects. I can’t afford divorce rumors right now.” His words revealed not love, but calculation — every move guided by image and control. The girl, blinded by her feelings, agreed softly, claiming she would wait. But to Charles, it was just another temporary indulgence.Part 6: The Return HomeWhen Yolanda returned home, the villa felt colder than ever. She had just come out of the shower when Charles entered the bedroom, carrying his jacket. He looked as immaculate as always — tall, handsome, commanding — but tonight, his arrogance seemed cruel. On his pristine white shirt, Yolanda noticed a faint smear of pink lip gloss. She had never worn lip gloss; she hated its stickiness. That small, shiny mark told her everything she needed to know. As she dried her hair, she kept her expression neutral, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain.Part 7: The Cold ConversationCharles glanced at her and asked casually, “When did you get back?”“This afternoon,” she replied.He loosened his tie, unbuttoning his shirt as if nothing had happened. “I was out playing golf tonight,” he added. The lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly. Through the reflection in the window, Yolanda saw the dirt on his back — proof that golf wasn’t the only game he’d been playing. With quiet fury, she shot back, “Then I guess you scored plenty of holes. Congrats.”Her sarcasm caught him off guard. For the first time, he frowned, slightly unsettled. He wasn’t used to this tone from her — the woman who once worshiped him now sounded indifferent, almost mocking.Part 8: His Cruel ArroganceInstead of apologizing, Charles smirked and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Are you mad? I told you when we got married that I didn’t love you. If you’re that unhappy, find someone else to cheat with.” His words cut through her like a blade. It wasn’t just betrayal anymore — it was humiliation. He treated her heartbreak as an inconvenience, as if her pain were irrelevant. Inside, Yolanda’s chest felt like it was being strangled with wire, every breath searing. Yet she stayed silent. Her quietness, once a sign of love, now turned into armor.Part 9: The Memory of InnocenceIn that moment, Yolanda’s mind drifted back to when she first met Charles. She was young, freshly adopted into the Grant family, and he was already the picture of perfection — disciplined, confident, untouchable. Back then, she looked at him with admiration and love. To her, he was everything she aspired to be. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that this same man would someday make her feel worthless. All those years of love, of marriage, of giving — they now felt like a cruel joke.Part 10: A New Beginning Hidden in the Word “Fine”Charles chuckled when she finally said, “Fine.” To him, it was just another empty threat, another outburst that would fade with time. He kissed her cheek, confident that her love would keep her shackled to him forever. What he didn’t realize was that this time, “Fine” wasn’t surrender — it was goodbye. Behind her calm eyes, Yolanda had already made her decision. The love that once bound her had turned to ash, and from that ash, something new was forming — strength.Chapter 1 ends with Yolanda’s quiet determination to take back her life. She won’t cry or beg anymore. This time, she’ll walk away — not as a broken wife, but as a woman reborn through betrayal.
