Not long after Yara Sawyer and Dylan Sinclair fell in love, Mrs. Payne found out and forcibly sent Yara abroad. The two lovers were separated by an ocean until Yara recently returned to the country and went to the hospital where Dylan Sinclair was an intern. Their old flame was rekindled, leading to a million-word saga of emotional entanglement.
At the end of the novel, on the eve of Yara Sawyer’s wedding, Ethan Payne kidnapped her and took her to his private island. He forced her to wear a wedding dress and marry him, compelled her to say she loved him, insisted on holding her as they slept, and even nearly forced himself on her.
When they were found, he dragged Yara Sawyer into the sea with him, declaring that he would rather die than be separated from her. The male lead, Dylan Sinclair, jumped in right after them.
Yara Sawyer was eventually rescued by Dylan Sinclair. Ethan Payne also survived, but in the process of saving Yara in the ocean, a shark bit off both of his legs, leaving him permanently disabled.
The ending also added a bit of angst for the male lead. Yara Sawyer felt so guilty about Ethan Payne losing his legs for her that she wanted to break up with Dylan Sinclair and marry Ethan instead. However, on the eve of their wedding, Ethan chose to let her go. His reason? He didn’t want to see her forcing a smile just to be with him.
’So, you’re telling me all that earlier drama—the kidnapping, jumping into the sea—was just for kicks? That idiot author, Jessica Adler, completely ruined Ethan Payne’s "mad dog" persona in the finale, all for the sake of giving the main couple a happy ending.’
When Jasmine Sinclair first read that ending, she nearly died of anger. ’If you’re going to be a psycho, be a psycho all the way! He did all that just to make Yara Sawyer stay with him, right? And when she’s finally willing, he’s the one who says no? He’s insane! Has he never heard the saying "a bitter fruit is still a fruit"?’
’Who cares if she’s faking her smiles? You were willing to drag her down to hell with you, and you lost both your legs saving her. So what if she has to pay you back with a lifetime? You earned it with those two legs; you should accept it with a clear conscience! But no, you had to play the noble martyr and push her toward your rival. Did you even ask your missing legs if they agreed to that?!’
If it had been Jasmine Sinclair, one lifetime wouldn’t have been enough. After all, he lost two legs. That would be two lifetimes, at least.
Jasmine Sinclair thought she shouldn’t be a "green tea"—she should be the villain. She would have seen the role through to the very end, never letting a situation like the character’s personality collapsing in the finale happen.
However, she had transmigrated into a novel full of characters with secret identities, and the damned system was forcing her to just lay low and survive until the finale. That meant she couldn’t be a proper villain; the moment she opposed the female lead, she was guaranteed a dead end.
"Have you stared enough?"
The man’s low, raspy voice, carried on the night breeze, suddenly filled her ears, interrupting Jasmine Sinclair’s internal monologue.
’Whoops. Ethan Payne had caught her sneaking glances at him.’
Ever the actress, Jasmine Sinclair slipped into character in a split second. She lowered her head in a fluster, her hands clutching the seatbelt across her chest. Her voice was soft, laced with a hint of guilt. "I just... think your hands are really beautiful, Ethan. I couldn’t help but look a little longer."
Ethan Payne’s long index finger tapped lightly on the steering wheel, the corner of his lip twitching into a barely-there smile. Switching his grip to his left hand, he extended his right toward Jasmine Sinclair. His voice was low, laced with a hint of seduction. "Want to touch?"
The neon lights outside streamed over the Patek Philippe on his wrist, casting alluring shadows across the veins of his hand. Jasmine Sinclair stared, transfixed. She swallowed in excitement and asked cautiously, "C-Can I?"
’It’s such a beautiful hand. I really want to touch it.’
’I’m going to tame this mad dog sooner or later anyway, so what’s wrong with collecting a little interest now?’
’Besides, what’s the point of a man having such beautiful hands if not for a woman to touch?’
With that thought, Jasmine Sinclair felt perfectly justified as she reached out with her wicked claws, her fingertips slowly creeping toward the man’s hand.
Just as Jasmine Sinclair’s fingertips were about to brush against Ethan Payne’s hand, a low, teasing chuckle from him shattered the charged atmosphere. In the next second, he pulled his hand back. The metal of his watch strap grazed her fingers as he took the steering wheel again, leaving Jasmine frozen with her hand still outstretched, utterly mortified.
’If she weren’t so afraid of breaking character, Jasmine Sinclair would have laughed out of pure frustration.’
’This damn man. He deliberately dangled his hand in front of her just to tempt her, got her all fired up, and then refused to put out the flames.’
’If he wasn’t going to let her touch it, then why stick his hand out in the first place? Was he just trying to taunt her?’
’Fine, fine, so that’s how he wants to play? She’d just wait for the day he was on his knees, begging her to touch his hand. When that time came, she wouldn’t stop until she’d rubbed his damn hands raw.’
Seeing the girl’s flustered and annoyed expression, Ethan Payne’s mood inexplicably brightened. How had he never noticed before that Caleb Sinclair’s little sister was actually quite interesting?
「In front of the Sinclair Villa.」
Jasmine Sinclair watched the black Maybach disappear into the distance. Dropping her act, a vicious smile spread across her lips. She took out her phone and dialed the traffic department. "Hello, I’d like to report a drunk driver, license plate S777777. He’s near Imperian Avenue. Please intercept him as soon as possible to prevent an irreversible tragedy."
’Hmph. That’s what you get for messing with me, you bastard. Didn’t want me to touch your precious hand? Enjoy getting twelve points and your license suspended.’
System 777: ’This host is truly sinister.’
Aiden Hayes stood on the second-floor balcony, his gaze dark as he watched Jasmine Sinclair get into a car and leave.
’She just got home this late, so why is she running off again? The car that dropped her off... that looked like Ethan Payne’s. When did she get involved with him?’
’What were the two of them doing in that car for so long?’
’They weren’t kissing, were they? No, impossible. Jasmine Sinclair is head over heels for Zachary Locke; there’s no way she’d kiss Ethan Payne. Besides, everyone in their circle knows Ethan is obsessed with his adopted sister. He wouldn’t possibly be interested in Jasmine.’
Despite his reasoning, Aiden Hayes still felt agitated. Ever since last night, he couldn’t get Jasmine Sinclair out of his head. He’d even had strange dreams about her.
To distract himself from thinking about Jasmine Sinclair, Aiden Hayes called a friend. "Hey, where are you guys hanging out tonight?"
"Hayes? Didn’t you say you had something on tonight and couldn’t make it?"
The roar of a motorcycle engine and the sound of rushing wind came through the phone, forcing the speaker to yell.
"Just cut the crap and tell me where you are. I’m on my way."
Hearing the impatience in Aiden Hayes’s voice, the person on the other end immediately rattled off an address.
A few minutes later, the roar of a black motorcycle echoed as it sped out of the villa and vanished into the night.
At the same time, in the villa next door, Clara Sinclair took a call, then hopped on her own motorcycle—one with a new engine—and headed out.
Inside her own car, Jasmine Sinclair was on the phone, gloating as she watched the black Maybach get pulled over by a traffic cop. Seeing Ethan Payne’s thunderous expression as he cooperated with the officer for a breathalyzer test filled her with immense satisfaction. ’That’s right, you bastard. Say goodbye to your driver’s license.’
On the dance floor, bodies writhed and tangled to the thumping electronic beat. Flashing lasers sliced through billowing clouds of dry ice, momentarily illuminating a diamond necklace on a socialite’s collarbone or the cool blue glow of a limited-edition watch on some heir’s wrist.
Crystal chandeliers splashed fractured light onto deep purple velvet sofas. The air was thick with a heady mix of expensive perfume, cigars, and alcohol. At the bar, a cocktail shaker traced a silver arc through the air, and the clinking of ice cubes sounded like a secret Morse code.
Jasmine Sinclair stared at the scene of opulent debauchery, her face alight with excitement. In her previous life, she never had the money for a high-end bar like this. Now that she’d transmigrated into a book, she no longer had to worry about money. She decided she was going to enjoy it to the fullest. Maybe she’d even order a few male models to keep her company.
"Jasmine, over here! Quick!"
Not far off, a girl on a purple sofa spotted Jasmine Sinclair and waved enthusiastically.
Jasmine Sinclair smiled and walked over, mentally asking the system who the people on the sofa were.