The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride - Chapter 1936

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"Boyd left this morning. He went back to B Country with Herschel."

Yasmine's embrace around her grandchild tightened for a moment.

Chloe's brows knit together slightly, "Are you sure you won’t regret it?"

Elizabeth, who had been lounging on the sofa, slowly stood up, a look of concern etched on her
face as she watched Yasmine.

Yasmine's eyes glinted briefly. She masked every emotion on her face and said calmly, "There's
nothing to regret. What would regret change anyway? Am I supposed to end up like him, a total
nutcase?"

Chloe pressed her lips together, "I just hope you truly believe in what you're saying. By hurting
Boyd, you're hurting yourself just as much, if not worse."d2

Yasmine offered a wry smile, "When you put it that way, I suppose you're right."

Yasmine was so stubborn. Chloe decided not to push further and bent down to pluck a thread from
the stroller's fabric.

Elizabeth looked from Yasmine to Chloe, puzzled. Neither seemed inclined to continue the
conversation. Elizabeth suddenly missed her husband.

In the days that followed, Yasmine stayed in Greenfield Village, acting like any other day. She ate
normally, slept normally, played with the babies, and seemed to laugh more each day as the babies
grew and responded to her. She didn't seem like someone harboring a heavy secret.

At first, Chloe was concerned, but she eventually came to terms with it. Perhaps Yasmine's desire
to rid herself of Boyd was her most earnest wish in life. If separation made her truly happy, Chloe

was content to see her at peace.

However, Chloe couldn’t shake off a niggling feeling about Boyd's abrupt departure, leaving behind
no trace of a father's responsibility.

The living room was carpeted with soft rugs and topped with sponge mats for safety, and the sharp
edges of tables and cabinets were all securely padded. This was all because Little Sun and Little
Moon, the two bundles of joy, were now wobblingly sitting up and even crawling a bit.

The crib was no longer their small world. Toys littered the floor, and the two energetic tots were
particularly lively.

Elizabeth and Yasmine had to be more vigilant than ever.

The presence of the babies was like the village's very own happy pill, filling each day with laughter.
Elizabeth and Yasmine were no exception.

Still Chloe noticed Yasmine's temper getting worse by the day, her irritation more apparent except
when she was with the babies. It was like walking on eggshells around her, never knowing what
might set her off. Chloe, unsure of the cause and fearful of setting off the ticking bomb, tentatively
chalked it up to a midlife crisis.

The babies rarely needed Chloe’s care. Sometimes, she got involved with some business affairs
and kept an eye on news from B Country.

Herschel, being a president, wasn't on TV that frequently, but his policies and economic movements
were often in the news, and occasionally there was coverage of his regional visits.

Getting updates on Boyd was almost impossible. However, today there was an exclusive
accompanying interview with Herschel, mainly focused on capturing a day in Herschel's everyday
life.

Yasmine and Elizabeth took the little ones out for a play, leaving Chloe to watch the news in the
living room, curious if this 'day in the life' would offer a glimpse of the estranged father.

The President's day started at eight in the morning with state affairs, followed by high-level briefings
and his secretary at his side, helping to sort and summarize.

At ten, there was a personal inspection of a development area. Lunch at twelve with local
government officials. Returned to the presidential residence at two, surveying en route. By two-
thirty, he was on international calls with other country leaders. At three-thirty, during a rare break, he
hit the gym.

Chloe found it dull. That was when she heard Elizabeth and Yasmine's voices at the door, and she
got up to go outside.

The little babies were always happiest playing outside and were reluctant to come in. She stepped
out to adjust their hats and casually asked, "What would you like for lunch? I can have the maid
prepare something."

Elizabeth said she'd go to the kitchen herself later.

Yasmine, never one for cooking even in her younger days, held her precious grandchild but didn't
look too keen. "I'm not hungry. Whatever's made is fine."

Elizabeth and Chloe exchanged glances. Yasmine wasn't like this before. She never settled for less,
so why such an indifferent reply now?

Still, Chloe went ahead and ordered two of her favorite dishes.

As they returned to the house, the TV still flickered in the living room. On the screen was Herschel
working out in the gym. At first, they paid it little mind. Women didn't typically care for such things,
especially with their attention fully on the kids. But then, the former President of B Country, Boyd,
was mentioned.

The women, not long inside, turned their eyes to the TV simultaneously. There, Boyd was on a
treadmill, looking exceptionally well. It was a world of difference compared to how he had looked
three months earlier.

Elizabeth glanced at Chloe, who in turn looked at Yasmine. Elizabeth followed Chloe's gaze to
Yasmine.

With all eyes on her, Yasmine shifted her gaze away from the TV, set Little Moon down on the mat,
where the baby fiddled with a rubber toy, unsure of how to play with it.

Elizabeth placed Little Sun beside Little Moon, and everyone settled back into the rhythm of daily
life, the TV murmuring in the background.

The babies couldn't sit still for long, always squirming and eventually sprawling out on the cushions.
It was a sight that usually brought laughter to Yasmine and Elizabeth, but today, Yasmine's
expression remained unchanged.

On the TV, Boyd had stepped off the treadmill, and the camera zoomed in on him. Yasmine stood
up, an icy look crossing her face as she turned towards Chloe. With a swift motion, Chloe grabbed
the remote and switched off the television. The silence that filled the living room was almost
palpable.

"I'm not hungry for lunch," Yasmine suddenly declared.

Chloe frowned slightly, about to say something when Yasmine headed upstairs. "I made plans for
lunch with someone. Don't worry about me."

Chloe followed her a few steps. "You said we could whip up something simple just a while ago. And
who's invited you out now all of a sudden?"

"Do I need to report all my appointments to you? Am I your mother, or are you mine?"

Chloe pursed her lips, "I'll arrange the driver." Yasmine was a force to be reckoned with.

When she came back down, Yasmine had changed into an outfit that was hard to miss even in the
cold winter. She was decked out in a corduroy, plum-colored dress with intricate embroidery—a
creation by Elizabeth herself, intended for New Year's celebrations. Yasmine had, inexplicably,
chosen to don it today.

"Honey, who are you meeting that you dressed up so fancy?" Elizabeth inquired cautiously. The
dress looked stunning on Yasmine, and any woman would envy her, while men would be captivated
at first glance.

"Mr. Fletcher has been persistent in his invitations. It wouldn't be right to refuse him again today."

Chloe and Elizabeth exchanged a look. After three months of rejections, why did she suddenly feel
like going out with him today?

Yasmine's temperament was hardly accommodating. She lived for her own happiness, and today's
words seemed to stem from an unusual agitation.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. Yasmine had been unpredictably moody these past few days, and her
actions were even more baffling.

If there was a reason behind today's behavior, Chloe could guess one—it must be because of the
man on the TV, the one Yasmine had asked to leave before. Was Yasmine upset seeing him doing
better than expected, and now she needed to outshine him? But what about Yasmine's recent mood
swings?

"Are you...?" Chloe began, but a sharp look from Yasmine cut her off.

Understanding what Chloe was about to say, Yasmine shot her a warning glance and left the house,
her driver holding the car door open for her.

Chloe returned to the living room where Little Sun and Little Moon were each clutching a small
pillow, playing contentedly.

Elizabeth looked at her, "Do you think your mom is seeing a new man? But she doesn't even like
Mr. Fletcher. She's been refusing him for months, and now she suddenly agrees to a date without
any warning?"

Elizabeth paused, tilting her head in confusion, "She's not really considering a relationship with Mr.
Fletcher, is she?"

Chloe remained silent.

"How could she? If she wanted to be with another man, she would've done so by now, right?"
Elizabeth continued.

Chloe didn't respond.

Elizabeth then turned her head to the other side, "But, you know, fate is unpredictable. What if
there's really something between her and Mr. Fletcher? Maybe it's a case of 'good things come to
those who wait'?"

Chloe still said nothing.

Half an hour after Yasmine's departure, Chloe received a call from the driver, giving her the details
of the restaurant where Yasmine was dining with Mr. Fletcher. Chloe thought it was commendable
how patient and good-natured Mr. Fletcher was after being turned down for so long.

After putting the babies down for their nap, Chloe got a call from Damon. "Are those two little
troublemakers asleep?"

Chloe couldn't help but smile at Damon's grudging nickname for the babies, who indeed had given
him a hard time.

"Yeah, what do you have in mind for lunch?"

Damon leaned back in his office chair, his gaze drifting to the leather couch in front of him, "Nate will
take care of it."

Chloe's brow furrowed, "Don't you have a craving for anything?"

Damon's fingers, distinct and strong, scrolled lightly over his phone, his voice deep and tinged with
a hint of mock grievance, though a smile was playing on his lips. "Just something to fill the
stomach."

Chloe let out a sigh through the phone, "Wait for me, I'll bring you something to eat."

Damon's smile grew wider, "Are you willing to part with those two little ones?"

"They’ll be fine. They're good kids."

"Then, I'm in your debt, Mrs. Harper."

"Ah, but I can't today..."

Before Damon could relish the moment, Chloe's words froze the smile on his face. "Why not?"

"Mom went out to lunch with Mr. Fletcher, and it's just Elizabeth at home. I'm afraid she might be
overwhelmed if the babies wake up."

Damon's voice stiffened, clearly in a worse mood.

Chloe felt guilty, and at that moment, Elizabeth approached her. "Go on, it's fine. We have plenty of
help at home. You'd just be out for an afternoon, so he wouldn't have the chance to excessively
show affection in front of us.."

After much hesitation and internal debate, Chloe made her decision. "Alright then, thank you for
taking care of them."

"It's no trouble at all."

Damon breathed a sigh of relief.

But Yasmine, oh boy, she was a ticking time bomb on legs. After hanging up the phone with Chloe,
Damon squinted in deep thought before he reached for his phone again, scrolling through his
contacts.

A bomb, indeed, and one he couldn't afford to let off in his own backyard.

When Yasmine saw Mr. Fletcher again, after rejecting him multiple times over the course of three
months, she felt a bit uneasy. She couldn't quite figure out how to properly respond to his persistent
advances.

Mr. Fletcher ordered a few dishes that Yasmine remembered well. He had always been observant;
she didn't eat much, and the dishes she had liked before were merely revisited once or twice.
Today's choices showed he remembered her preferences.

The man was attentive, patient, a successful figure with good looks and charm—a real catch by any
standard. Even at middle age, with his looks, charisma, and financial clout, it wouldn't be hard for
him to charm women in their twenties with a mere wave of his hand. But he didn't seem the type to
chase after young girls. No, Mr. Fletcher was indeed a fine man.

"You look beautiful today," he said with a soft smile.

Yasmine took a sip of her drink, "Thank you."

"I must admit, I was surprised you accepted my invitation today."

Setting down her cup, Yasmine met the gaze of the man across from her, "I apologize."

"What for?" Mr. Fletcher asked, his smile unwavering.

"For having declined your offers for over three months, and for suddenly accepting now. I usually do
as I please, often without much regard for others' feelings. To be honest, up until an hour ago, it
never crossed my mind to actually come."

He nodded, taking a sip from his cup. "Can I interpret this as me being used?"

She raised an eyebrow, "You could say that."

"So, that is why you apologized."

Mr. Fletcher didn't seem upset. Instead, he poured her a fresh cup of hot tea. "Don't feel burdened.
The fact that you thought of using me at all means I still have some value."

Yasmine's brow twitched, "Mr. Fletcher..."

He raised his hand, silencing her, "I think you're overthinking it. I admit I'm fond of you, but it's just
that—a fondness. We've both lived over forty years, and we know what we feel. I don't really buy
into the whole 'love at first sight' fantasy. I'm not looking for a romance, but a companion to
comfortably spend the latter part of life with, to look after each other. I'm fond of you, but we've
spent less than three hours together. My fondness is just an impression."

He paused, his smile tinged with resignation, "You haven't given me a chance to truly get to know
you."

His blunt words, his disbelief in love at first sight, the absence of romantic intentions, and his
superficial fondness—all seemed to hit right where it hurt for most women. But Yasmine felt a
weight lift off her chest, and any hint of guilt vanished without a trace.

She was all pride and defiance. "I lack in likability, and excel in making people despise me, to itch
with hatred. So don't waste your time on me."

Sensing the shift in Yasmine, Mr. Fletcher's smile grew. "If there's no one else in your heart, I might
actually like you."

Her brows furrowed, her gaze darkened for a moment, "What did you mean when you said you
being used?"

"I've got decades ahead of me. If I can't find a companion, at least I can use a friend. As a friend, if
I'm useful to you, I should be happy."

Yasmine's eyelids twitched, "I never said I would consider you a friend. And for your own sake, for
when you find a companion, it's probably best to keep your distance from other women."

Mr. Fletcher chuckled, took a sip of his drink, then looked up at Yasmine with earnest eyes. "Who
can live up to the standards of a an unknown figure that might not even exist? Should I refrain from
smoking, drinking, and seeing other women for someone who's yet to appear? What if she's among
those women I'm avoiding? That's a missed opportunity. And if she never shows up, have I not
missed out on life? Yasmine, we don't live for love alone. Life is so much more than that."

As the waiter began serving the dishes, Yasmine's train of thought was interrupted. Between
courses, she looked across the table, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You make a lot of sense,
and you've got life all figured out. But the more logical it all sounds, the more it feels like a well-
prepared script. Tell me, Mr. Fletcher, are you a plant sent by Damon?"

At that, Mr. Fletcher's smile turned helpless as he pulled out his phone to show her a message from
Damon.

[I hear you're having lunch with Yasmine. Watch your words, and remember, you're on your own if
she gives you a hard time.]

She looked at Mr. Fletcher, half-smiling, half-scoffing, "He probably has no idea you're selling him
out behind his back."

Putting away his phone, Mr. Fletcher replied, "I just wanted to prove that there's nothing untoward
between us."

His words seemed to carry a different weight, and Yasmine couldn't help but laugh. This man was
charming, with a touch of wicked humor—impression points went up.

"Maybe if you try a little harder, I might actually consider spending the rest of my life with you, based
on mutual admiration."

As Mr. Fletcher reached for his cutlery, her words made him raise an eyebrow. His movements
paused as he met her gaze.

"Is that so? Are you saying you acknowledge me, and you're considering letting me pursue you?"

Yasmine's forehead creased. Were all his previous words just for show? "You..."

"She won't consider it." A proud, resonant voice interrupted, deep and stable.

The familiar voice caused Yasmine to grip her cup a little tighter.

Mr. Fletcher glanced sideways at the man standing beside him, his silhouette framed by a sleek,
gray trench coat, his features sharp and distinct, his gazes deep and intriguing—a man whose
handsome looks could linger in a woman's thoughts.

He was the kind of man women couldn't help but keep on their minds. Yet, from the start, his gaze
was fixed solely on Yasmine, never once straying.

The intensity of his stare made Yasmine's eyes flicker for a moment before she rose to face him. He
looked utterly different from the man she had seen three months ago.

"What are you doing here?"

Boyd flashed a smile and extended his hand toward her. "I've come to return your bottle."

Yasmine looked down to find an empty glass bottle that seemed strangely familiar. An empty bottle
was just that—empty, nothing inside.

Boyd continued with a smile, "I've already fulfilled one of your wishes."

Her lips tightened, a blush creeping over her cheeks and slowly spreading to her ears. Seeing her
reaction, Boyd felt a flutter in his chest and gently pulled her a little closer, his voice low and
resonant, "So I'm giving the bottle back to you, for you to fill with many more wishes."

Yasmine's pride left her at a loss. She pushed him away and snatched the bottle from his grasp.
"Getting bold? Haven’t you get the message?"

Boyd caught her wrist and pointed to the lid of the bottle in Yasmine's hand. "This gift had a flaw, so
I've come back to fix it."

Puzzled, Yasmine lifted the glass bottle and saw the wooden lid now bore a few clear, engraved
words—

"Excluding breakups."

Yasmine's expression darkened, and she nearly smashed the bottle in her hand. "Have you no
shame? Exploiting a loophole in a gift that's been given for decades!"

Boyd nodded, "As you know, shamelessness isn't exactly new to me."

Yasmine really wanted to unleash a torrent of words on the shameless man before her, but a glance
around the restaurant revealed that every eye was on them. With a scowl, she snapped the lid back
onto the bottle and strode towards the exit.

Boyd hurried after her, "Yasmine, what other wishes do you have..."

"Get lost. You fulfilled my wish? You missed the three-month deadline. How blissful it must be to
work out at the gym instead."

"But didn't you say I had three months to recover from my illness? You didn't say I had to come find
you after three months."

"Fine, I'll make a wish now. In your next life, you can live in the gym."

Boyd's expression changed, "I worked out so hard, and it was for you, you know."

Yasmine stumbled, her balance wavering for a moment, and the next second, Boyd scooped her
into his arms. She was lifted up and cradled in his embrace as a chorus of hoots and cheers rose
around them.

To be carried like that at her age, Yasmine felt she'd lost her dignity completely. She grabbed a
handful of Boyd's hair and yanked, causing his head to jerk to the side. "Put me down!"

Boyd looked at her sideways, "Yasmine, if you don't let go, I'm going to kiss you."

Yasmine's hands instantly released him.