Chapter Thirty One Henry held Jasmine's hand as they stepped out of the limousine and walked toward *The Garden of Eden.* It was unlike any place Jasmine had ever seen. The marble pathway shimmered under the soft sunlight, and exotic flowers adorned every corner. The air smelled sweet, a delicate mixture of jasmine and lavender that filled her senses. As they approached the entrance, the staff immediately greeted them with warm smiles, bowing slightly as they opened the tall golden doors for the couple. Jasmine’s eyes widened as she took in the beauty around her. The garden was like a scene out of a fairy tale. Fountains cascaded into clear pools, birds chirped in the trees, and the soft sound of a violin played in the distance. “This place is unreal,” she whispered in awe, her fingers tightening around Henry’s hand. Henry smiled, pleased with her reaction. “I wanted today to be special for you. You deserve nothing less.” They were guided to a private section of the garden, whe
Chapter Thirty Two Henry shot out of bed, panic surging through him. Jasmine’s side of the bed was cold, and his heart pounded as he searched the house, calling her name. But she was nowhere to be found. No one seemed to know where she’d gone. His frustration grew as he moved from room to room. After what felt like hours, Henry gave up. He hurried into the bathroom, taking the fastest shower of his life. The cold water hitting his skin did little to calm his nerves. He threw on his clothes—simple, sharp, and ready for the day—and grabbed his phone. He dialed Anderson’s number, his fingers trembling as he waited for him to pick up. “Find her,” Henry barked the moment Anderson answered. “I don’t care how, but find her. I can’t lose her.” “I’m on it, sir,” Anderson replied coolly, already knowing the seriousness of the situation. Henry was about to rush out of the house when his phone buzzed again. It was Anderson. “Sir, we tracked her down. We used Elon Musk’s satellite, and
Chapter Thirty Three The crowd gasped, whispers spreading like wildfire. Some were amused, others shocked, but all were intrigued. Damon basked in the attention, enjoying every moment of it. Even Jasmine’s brother, Jasper, was secretly pleased, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as he watched the rumors take on a life of their own. Meanwhile, Henry had been helping with final preparations, oblivious to the rumors. That was until he overheard two women gossiping nearby. “Did you hear what Damon said? That Jasmine is just a gold digger, trading her virginity for contracts,” one of them snickered. “Yeah, poor Henry. What a joke,” the other one giggled. Henry froze. Rage bubbled up inside him, his fists clenching at his sides. He could feel his blood boiling as the words sank in. Damon was humiliating his wife—*his wife!*—in front of everyone. And for what? To boost his own ego? Henry had had enough. Without thinking, he dashed toward Damon, his footsteps heavy with purpose. His
Chapter Thirty Four Henry snickered, his lips curling into a smile as he eyed the group of thugs advancing toward him. He could tell they thought they were intimidating. Tattoos, piercings, bulging muscles—they had the look, but looks weren't everything. He rolled his shoulders, subtly cracking his knuckles under his sleeve. No one knew this about him—not Jasmine, not even his closest friends. He could fight. Not just a couple of sloppy punches thrown in desperation. No, he used to be a boxer—a good one, too. That was how he made his money back in the day. Surviving with every jab and hook while getting through medical school on scholarship. He eyed the nine thugs, calculating. They were big, and that was their weakness. Big meant slow, obvious movements, glaring blind spots, and overconfidence. He could take them. He could beat them all senseless, leave them groaning on the pavement. But then his eyes flicked over to Jasmine, standing not far away. Her eyes were wide with worr
Chapter Thirty-Five Damon gritted his teeth, the words scraping out of his throat like shards of broken glass. “Over my dead body!” he spat, his eyes filled with defiance. His father’s face darkened, his patience snapping like a brittle twig. He swung his leg forward, the polished leather of his shoe connecting with Damon’s ribs in a swift, merciless kick. “You fool! You just destroyed our empire because of your stupidity!” the older man roared, his face twisted in fury. “Apologize, right now, before he ruins us completely!” Damon gasped for breath, barely holding himself upright. The fire in his eyes dimmed, but the arrogance remained. He shook his head slightly, defiance lingering in the curl of his lip. “He’s a nobody, Father. Just a pathetic—” Before Damon could finish, his father’s phone beeped again. The sound sliced through the tension like a knife, echoing off the cold concrete walls of the surrounding buildings. The old man’s eyes widened as he read the message, his hand
Chapter Thirty Six Zara raised her hand, her sharp, elegant features remaining calm as Grandmother Woods fumed beside her. “Please, Grandmother Woods,” Zara’s voice was smooth but firm. “The president is coming. There’s no need for alarm. Everything is under control.” Grandmother Woods huffed, crossing her arms, her anger still simmering. But seeing Zara’s composed expression, she nodded reluctantly. “Very well, Miss Zara. I trust you.” She sighed, clearly not happy but willing to wait. Suddenly, a commotion erupted near the entrance of the grand hall. The murmurs grew louder, heads turning in curiosity. Everyone’s attention shifted, eager to see who had arrived. Hoping it was the president, the guests hurried towards the entrance, excitement buzzing in the air. But it wasn’t the president. A tall, handsome man entered, wearing a flowing white gown with a red wrap around his head. His presence was captivating. Every step he took was confident, his movements graceful. The sc
Chapter Thirty Seven Henry stood in the corner of the hall, his sharp eyes never leaving Jasmine and the Prince of Dubai. His jaw clenched slightly, but he forced himself to remain composed. The prince was being respectful. He wasn’t pushing boundaries or invading Jasmine’s space. Every interaction was polite, almost gentlemanly, which helped ease the burning jealousy gnawing at Henry’s insides. Still, his hands remained tucked firmly into his pockets, his fists balled tightly. He hated this. Hated watching another man, especially one as powerful and wealthy as the prince, showing interest in his wife. But there was no room for rashness here. Henry knew the prince was a major client for the Consortium, and he couldn’t risk doing anything foolish. Jasmine, on the other hand, had no idea how much tension was brewing behind her. She was lost in her thoughts when her mother, a stern expression on her face, suddenly grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the bathroom. “Mother!” Jas
Chapter Thirty Eight The room buzzed with tension. The flashes from cameras still lit up Jasmine’s face, and the murmurs from the crowd grew louder. She stood frozen, her heart racing, unsure of what to do or say. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as Stella, satisfied with the chaos she had caused, watched from the stage, her eyes gleaming with triumph. Just when it seemed like things couldn’t get any worse, the Prince of Dubai slowly rose from his seat. Immediately, the room went silent. Every eye turned toward him, the weight of his presence commanding attention. Even the paparazzi stopped clicking, holding their breath in anticipation. The prince smiled, his gaze sweeping the room with a calm authority. His dark eyes held a quiet amusement, though his tone was sharp. “You are all naive,” he began, his deep voice cutting through the silence. “Clearly, none of you understand real taste and class.” Gasps echoed through the room, whispers bubbling up once again. The prince