On stage, she suddenly raised her eyes, her gaze piercing through the dim light to lock with Aiden Hayes’s deep, pool-like eyes. It was as if her scene partner wasn’t the actor in front of her, but Aiden Hayes, sitting hundreds of meters away in the audience.
In the shadows of the second-floor balcony, Aiden Hayes crushed out his cigarette. He licked his dry lips, a wicked smile playing in his charming eyes as he met Jasmine Sinclair’s gaze. His body trembled with an uncontrollable excitement. ’Just one look from her is enough to ignite my desire,’ he thought. ’I want to rush up on that stage and kiss her senseless.’
"Hayes, I like her. I’m going to pursue her."
The excited voice of the person beside him shattered Aiden Hayes’s fantasy.
He turned to the man beside him, a mocking smile on his lips. "Pursue her? Don’t even think about it. She already has a fiancé."
’His words were a jab at his friend for wanting to pursue Jasmine Sinclair, but they were also a jab at himself. He knew she had a fiancé. He knew how rotten she was on the inside. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from falling for her anyway.’
"I know she has a fiancé, but that doesn’t matter. He’s just a fiancé, it’s not like they’re married. I still have a chance."
Connor Quinn had been nursing a secret crush on Jasmine Sinclair for a long time. He’d already looked into her situation, and while he did consider giving up when he found out she had a fiancé, he later changed his mind. He shouldn’t give up so easily; at the very least, he had to try and win her over.
Connor Quinn’s words served as a wake-up call for Aiden Hayes. ’That’s right,’ he thought. ’So what if she has a fiancé? So what if she likes Zachary? Since my heart is already set on her, I’ll just have to steal her away.’
"Jasmine, you were so good just now! I was moved to tears. The director was right to cast you in this role. No one else could have brought that same feeling to it."
Although Rosalyn Sullivan was dying of jealousy, her words were full of praise for Jasmine Sinclair.
"Really, Rosalyn? I feel like my emotional delivery was still a bit off. I just hope I don’t embarrass myself during the school anniversary celebration."
’Jasmine Sinclair really didn’t want to do this. She wasn’t like the body’s original owner, who loved the spotlight and competing with other girls. Besides, she had five "mad dogs" to train—she was genuinely busy. But the role had been cast before she transmigrated into this world. If she backed out now, she’d have no way to explain it to the director.’
"Jasmine, don’t overthink it. Go get changed. We can grab a bite at the cafeteria together afterward."
Rosalyn Sullivan said with a smile.
Jasmine Sinclair nodded and headed for the dressing room. The costume was too heavy, and the wig was incredibly uncomfortable. She really needed to change out of this outfit right away.
The hinges let out a faint CREAK as Jasmine Sinclair pushed the door, but she froze. The room was shrouded in thick darkness. She remembered leaving the light on. ’Who came in and turned it off?’
Just as Jasmine Sinclair’s fingertips brushed against the light switch, an icy hand shot out from the darkness and clamped around her wrist. The world spun as she was yanked into the room with brute force. The door slammed shut behind her with a loud BANG, followed by the crisp, metallic CLICK of the lock.
"Mmph—"
Jasmine Sinclair’s gasp was smothered as something soft and cool pressed clumsily against her lips. It was a kiss marked by a distinctly youthful, awkward stiffness. He simply held her there, unmoving, his breath hot with uncertainty. The way his nose bumped against her cheek betrayed his nervousness.
Deprived of oxygen in the stiff embrace, Jasmine Sinclair tentatively pushed against the person in front of her.
Her push was like lighting a fuse. In an instant, the awkward pressure transformed into a feverish plunder.
He ground his lips against hers chaotically, his teeth bumping the corner of her mouth. The scent of mint, mingled with the faint smell of tobacco, flooded her senses.
His hand slid from her wrist to the nape of her neck, fingertips digging into her hair with a force that felt like he was trying to merge her into his very being.
The darkness amplified every sensation. Even through two layers of clothing, Jasmine Sinclair could feel his frantic heartbeat. She could feel the slide of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the movement grazing her sensitive collarbone.
"Hay—" She managed to force out a single syllable as he paused for breath, but he crushed his mouth back onto hers even more fiercely.
The sound of students laughing and talking grew closer outside the door. Suddenly, Aiden Hayes lifted her entirely, pressing her back against the door and pinning her there with his body. As the footsteps passed by, his hand slid to the hem of her skirt. He bit her earlobe, his voice a husky threat. "Dare to make a sound, and I’ll invite everyone in to see what you look like right now."
Jasmine Sinclair didn’t dare make a sound, but she refused to be bullied like this. She parted her lips and bit down hard on Aiden Hayes’s.
A muffled groan broke the silence of the dark room.
Her teeth sank deep into Aiden Hayes’s lower lip, and the metallic tang of blood immediately spread through their mingled breaths.
Aiden Hayes froze. The arm around her waist tightened. "You dare to bite me."
He licked the cut on his lip, smearing the blood mixed with their saliva onto the corner of her mouth. Then, he suddenly seized the back of her neck and deepened the blood-tainted kiss, invading her once more.
Jasmine Sinclair tasted the sharp tang of iron, the shattered sweetness of mint, and something akin to a tyrannical possessiveness.
Footsteps approached outside the dressing room.
Aiden Hayes shoved her against a clothing rack laden with costumes. A waterfall of velvet, silk, and lace cascaded down, concealing their entangled bodies.
"Jasmine? Are you in there?"
Jasmine Sinclair’s breath hitched at the sound of Rosalyn Sullivan’s voice. At that exact moment, Aiden Hayes deliberately intensified his kiss, branding a hickey onto the side of her neck.
"Shh..."
He whispered against the shell of her ear, his blood-stained thumb pressing against her lips. "Don’t make a sound. Let’s continue."
Aiden Hayes’s fingertips trailed down Jasmine Sinclair’s trembling neck, landing on the zipper at the back of her costume. Slowly, inch by inch, he pulled it down.
"Miss, Jasmine went in a long time ago, and she’s not responding to my knocks. I tried calling, and I can hear her phone ringing inside. I’m worried something might have happened to her. Could you please open the door and let me check on her?"
The moment Rosalyn Sullivan finished speaking, the dressing room door swung open from the inside.
Jasmine Sinclair stepped out, looking with surprise at Rosalyn Sullivan and the upperclassman. "Miss? Rosalyn? Why are you here?"
"Sullivan here said she couldn’t reach you," the upperclassman explained. "She was worried something had happened, so she asked me to get the key and open the door."
The upperclassman peeked into the dressing room, her eyes sweeping over the costumes strewn across the floor.
"I’m fine. You don’t have to worry."
Jasmine Sinclair shifted to block the upperclassman’s line of sight, her fingers nonchalantly adjusting her collar to hide the hickey that was peeking out.
"As long as you’re okay. I’ll get going, then."
Seeing that everything was fine, the upperclassman left to tend to other matters.
"Jasmine, I was knocking for so long out here. Why didn’t you say anything? You didn’t pick up your phone, either. I was worried sick!"
Rosalyn Sullivan linked arms with Jasmine Sinclair, her voice filled with concern.