‘ll take you home,” lan said softly.
Yolanda murmured her agreement, settling comfortably into his arms.
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Ian held her close, about to lead her away, when the sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention.
His gaze grew cold as he looked up and saw Samuel Grant.
Samuel was still in his suit, almost merging with the darkness around him. He approached slowly, concern flashing in his eyes as he saw Yolanda nearly losing control. “Yoyo?” he called out.
At the sound of her brother’s voice, Yolanda’s body tensed, and she slowly lifted her gaze. “Big brother, I’m not feeling so well,” she murmured.
Samuel’s gaze lingered on Ian, as if he wanted to say something but held back.
Without another word, he said sternly, “Come with me.”
Ian stood his ground, holding Yolanda even closer.
Samuel took a few steps forward, and when he still didn’t hear anything, he slowly turned back.
“Just bring her and come with me. I’m her brother.”
Ian’s lashes fell as he glanced over at Yolanda, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
Yolanda suddenly reached up, cradling his face with both hands, and pulled him into a heated kiss, her tongue slipping past his lips without warning.
Samuel, lurking a short distance away, caught sight of them and nearly winced–his eye actually twitched in shock.
Ian jerked his head away at first, but something flashed across his mind; a beat later, he leaned right back in and kissed her fiercely.
Samuel just stood there, lit up a cigarette, and after ten long, awkward minutes, finally blurted out, “Maybe I should just… head out?”
For a guy as self–assured as him, even saying that was way out of character–it was obvious he genuinely had no idea how to deal with this.
His disciplined, usually reserved little sister was getting all passionate with another man right under his nose, and he honestly had no clue whether he was supposed to put a stop to it or just turn a blind eye.
Ian kept Yolanda firmly in his arms and obediently trailed after Samuel.
Samuel seemed perfectly composed at first glance, but if you looked closer, you’d notice his steps were a bit
stiff.
Chapter 100
His car was parked a short distance away, tucked away in a secluded spot.
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Ian lifted Yolanda into the car, holding her tight in his arms the whole time. She was practically falling apart, arms locked desperately around his neck, sobbing as she pleaded for him not to leave her.
Ian kissed her again, softly reassuring her, “We’ll talk about everything when we get home, alright?”
Samuel, still dressed in his suit, stood outside the car, unable to resist the urge to smoke.
He almost never smoked.
Lighting up was the only thing that seemed to calm him down.
He hesitated for a moment, then after sparking up, finally couldn’t help but ask, “What’s your name?”
“Ian. I’m her talent,” Ian replied.
“Oh,” Samuel said.
He took a slow drag from his cigarette.
The sound of their kissing was still ringing in Samuel’s ears, grating on him like nails scraping a chalkboard.
After thinking for a moment, he gave in, climbed into the back seat, and told his assistant up front, “Drive.”
The car started moving slowly.
The back seat was spacious, but with three people squeezed in, it felt way too small–especially since one of them was totally out of it.
Ian held Yolanda in his arms, whispering gently and doing his best to calm her down.
Yolanda, though, couldn’t sit still. She lifted her leg and let it sprawl right across Samuel’s lap.
Samuel, cigarette pinched between his fingers, felt his leg twitch and quietly, without a word, slid it away.
Ian and Yolanda were practically hogging most of the back seat.
Yolanda was a handful–crying, with her shoulder still streaked with blood from that fall, looking like a complete wreck.
Ian suddenly glanced over at Samuel.
Their gazes collided in the air: Samuel’s was serious, tinged with confusion, while lan’s was dark and almost
savage.
“Just turn around, man. You really shouldn’t be watching.” lan said.
Samuel tried to say something, but honestly, he had no idea what to say–he couldn’t even put this feeling
into words.
Chapter 100
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Samuel turned to stare out the window, pulling out his phone to call his team, quietly telling them to get Charles’s guys out of the way.
If Charles were the one sitting here right now, he’d probably have already lost it and be out for blood.
But Samuel didn’t feel like actually killing anyone–what he felt was this weird, uncomfortable mix of emotions he couldn’t even put into words. It was just… awkward.
He just gave up and shut his eyes, trying to tune everything out. A few minutes went by like that before Yolanda’s voice snapped him out of it.
“Ian, you’re just the best,” Yolanda blurted out, her voice thick with adoration.
Samuel’s lashes quivered; he wanted to open his eyes, but honestly–he just couldn’t make himself do it. ‘Seriously, what am I even supposed to do right now?‘ he thought.
He’d never felt anything like this before; it was impossible to even put a name to it.
Suddenly, a hand yanked at his suit. He looked down–it was just Yolanda.
She was clutching the hem of his suit in a death grip, creasing it up.
He turned away, looking out the window, all the while catching snippets of her voice–sometimes gushing over lan, sometimes whining about how miserable she was.
By the time the car finally pulled up to Samuel’s place, two hours had passed.
Yolanda was starting to come to her senses, but honestly, she’d rather just smash her head against something and knock herself out instead of being awake right now.
Ian finally let out a dramatic sigh of relief, whining, “Come on, if you’d stayed out any longer, my arms would’ve turned into stone from holding you!”
The words were barely out of his mouth before Yolanda landed a solid slap across his cheek.
Samuel, at this point, had lost track of how many cigarettes he’d chain–smoked, and honestly, he didn’t even know what to say anymore.
Ian crouched down in front of Yolanda like a scolded puppy, rubbing his cheek with pitiful eyes. “Why’d you just hit me outta nowhere?”
‘Honestly, Yolanda thought, if the heavens could just open up and smite me right now, that’d be perfect- anything to escape this mortifying disaster!
She raked her fingers through her hair nervously, there was no way she could even glance at Samuel–her face was burning with embarrassment.
The car was dead silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Samuel opened the car door with a stern look, hesitated for a few seconds, then finally said, “Why don’t we get out first?”
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Ian tried to help Yolanda out, but she pushed him away. Undeterred, he leaned over again.
Samuel didn’t even bother looking back, just walked straight into the house.
If Yolanda didn’t have nerves of steel, she probably would’ve fainted from all this right now.
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Ian didn’t back off, just kept holding her, teasing, “Seriously, what are you so scared of? He’s not gonna eat you.”
Yolanda just played dead, honestly wishing she could drop dead for real.
Ian swept Yolanda into his arms and strolled right inside, acting like her panic didn’t bother him one bit.
In the living room, Samuel was seated on the couch, tapping the cigarette ash aside with controlled calm. He set the cigarette down and spoke a single word.
“Sit,” he instructed, his tone steady and unmistakably in charge.
The living room lights were blazing, making it impossible to hide anything–every emotion on their faces was out in the open.
After how dark and cramped the car had been, now it felt like someone had thrown on a floodlight and exposed all the awkward secrets.
Yolanda looked completely disheveled, her clothes rumpled, her whole vibe a wreck.
Samuel motioned for someone to bring over some coffee.
None of them said a word.
AD
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.
