How To Lose Your Billionaire Alpha Husband In 365 Days (Or Less)!-Chapter 36: Back in Control...

JASMINE’S POV

I sipped my black coffee slowly, legs crossed, sunglasses shielding my eyes, though the windows of Aiden’s private jet were dimmed.

7:00 a.m. Red lipstick. Oversized sunglasses. Black wide-leg trousers, crisp white blouse, and a sleek bun.

It wasn’t a look. It was a message.

I caught the side glance Aiden gave me from his seat across the aisle. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, forearms flexing as he scrolled through his phone, but I didn’t look at him directly.

Not once.

Instead, I tilted my head, scrolled through emails I wasn’t really reading, and silently constructed the next phase of my mental war plan.

Operation: Drive-Him-Delirious-and-Dump-Him.

Step one? Be unbothered.

Step two? Be brilliant.

Step three? Make him think he’s still in control, but he’s not.

He cleared his throat, trying to get my attention.

But I didn’t look up.

He shifted in his chair, but I still stayed silent. I felt like a mix between Ava Lord and the cold-hearted villain from every revenge movie I’d watched with Sophia during our wine-fueled nights.

I could feel him watching me. Good. Let him.

In the silence between us, something cracked.

Not out loud—never that obvious—but somewhere between the tick of the second hand on his designer watch and the subtle lift of my chin. I could feel the tension coil between us like piano wire—taut, thin, and one wrong move away from snapping.

There was a time when I would’ve looked over, made a joke, broken the ice.

Not anymore.

This was all a contract from the beginning, and I was already believing it was more. And if I was going to survive this twisted fairy tale, I had to remember how to play the villain.

—

The moment we landed, I saw the crowd waiting—flashing lights, reporters with microphones, PR wolves, no doubt.

Aiden stood, fixing his cufflink, his jaw ticking like he was prepping for battle. "Stay beside me," he muttered.

I smiled and stood slowly, smoothing my blouse. "Okay, husby."

We got off the jet, and flashes from cameras surrounded us. People were shouting our names.

Aiden took a step forward, ready to say something.

But I stepped in front of him and linked my arm through his, just like I had been doing every day since our wedding.

He looked surprised, but it was too late for him to say anything.

I turned towards the cameras, smiled widely and confidently, my lipstick shining bright like red paint.

"It’s nice to finally return to normal," I purred in a calm and silky voice. "Whatever that means when you’re married to a man who kisses like sin and works like the apocalypse is coming."

Aiden’s mouth twitched slightly, and a small muscle in his cheek jumped. The cameras went crazy, with flashes going off everywhere and reporters shouting questions.

I leaned in just enough to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, so light that it felt almost unreal. He didn’t pull away, but I could feel his arm tighten under my hand.

Then I smiled for the cameras again, gave a small wave, and walked with him to the car like we were the world’s most stable, most dangerously glamorous couple.

Once we were inside the black SUV, I pulled out my phone and unlocked it.

He didn’t say anything.

I didn’t either.

Not until we were almost to the city.

"I have a board meeting at nine," I said coolly, typing out a message. "I’ll be unavailable the rest of the day."

He gave a slight nod. "Right."

Silence returned.

He stared out the window. I scrolled without reading. Neither of us mentioned the night before.

And we wouldn’t.

Because if words were weapons, silence was war.

—

The moment I stepped into my building, my employees straightened like I’d walked in wielding fire.

My heels clicked over marble. My fitted blazer was cinched at the waist, the matching slacks hugging every calculated step. Crimson lips. Winged liner sharp enough to kill.

Sophia met me outside the elevator.

"Holy hell," she whispered. "You look like vengeance in heels."

I smirked. "Good. That’s the vibe."

She followed me into the elevator. "So? You okay?"

"Perfect."

Her look said she didn’t believe me, but she knew better than to push. The doors opened on the executive floor, and I stepped into the lion’s den like I was the lion.

There were emails and calls. Two interns nearly dropped their coffee just trying to avoid eye contact. That’s good. Let them sweat.

I was halfway through a financial review when an idea struck me.

Tonight was a formal event Aiden was hosting. It was business, politics, and the usual PR nightmare. We were supposed to arrive together.

Fine.

Let’s give them a show.

I called down to my assistant and had a courier deliver a very specific package to Stark Global penthouse office.

A silver tie. Expensive. Subtly threatening.

I attached a note on thick paper, written in scarlet ink: For tonight’s event. xoxo – Your Wife

An hour later, my phone buzzed with a single text.

AIDEN: Thanks for the gift, wifey.

I stared at it, then set my phone face down and didn’t reply.

Let him wonder.

Let him burn.

Because this time, I wasn’t the girl who cried in the dark or begged him to stay.

I was Jasmine Heart Frost.

And I was done breaking first.

—

The gala was hosted in one of the oldest, grandest buildings in the city—floor-to-ceiling chandeliers, champagne towers, and enough flashing cameras to trigger seizures.

But the real showstopper? Me.

My wine-colored dress was made of smooth silk and hugged my body perfectly. It was floor-length, backless, and had a daring slit up the thigh. Every detail was designed to show that I’m confidently unapologetic.

My hair was swept up, neck bare, showing off the dip of my spine like it was deliberate bait. My lipstick matched the dress exactly—deep, dangerous, and utterly kiss-proof.

When I walked in, people noticed.

Some tried to be discreet about it, while others didn’t bother to hide their curiosity. I was well aware of how I looked and who was paying attention to me.

Aiden was already at the entrance, talking to someone from the mayor’s office. He wore the silver tie I’d sent him—of course he did—and a dark suit that fit his body like the gods themselves had tailored it.

But he wasn’t prepared.

Not for this.

His eyes found me, and his jaw visibly clenched. His fingers twitched by his side like they didn’t know whether to reach for me or to brace for impact.

I smiled slowly and walked up to him like nothing was wrong... like everything was perfect.

"Evening, husby," I said sweetly, stopping just close enough that he’d catch my perfume—bergamot and heat and something floral I’d never name aloud.

"Evening," he replied, his voice just slightly rougher than usual.

I offered him my hand. "Shall we?"

He took it without a word. But his palm was warm. And his grip was a little too tight.

We walked the carpeted aisle into the grand hall, all flashing lights and shouted names and fake compliments. I knew exactly where the cameras were—and I made sure to give them what they wanted.

We posed together, perfectly aligned. I smiled like the loyal wife of a powerful man, my hand resting delicately on his chest.

Then I leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

"You clean up nice," I whispered. "But you should see how good you look undone."

His breath hitched. I heard it.

The flashbulbs kept firing.

He turned his head slightly, his lips grazing my cheek like he might bite. "What game are you playing?"

"The kind I plan to win," I murmured with a smirk.

We made our rounds.

Aiden did his thing—shaking hands, discussing policy, pretending he wasn’t slowly losing his mind. I did my part, smiling, charming, sipping wine, and engaging in small talk like a woman without a single care in the world.

But every time his eyes drifted to me—and they did—I held his gaze. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t break.

He excused himself twice during the night. Probably to breathe or pace.

I stayed exactly where I was. Unbothered. Unmoved.

As the evening came to a close and we were saying goodbye to the last donors, I felt him step in behind me. His presence felt like a shadow lightly touching my bare back.

"Jasmine," he said low in my ear. "What are you doing?"

I turned slowly and met his gaze. My hand found his chest again, right over the tie I had chosen.

"Being your wife," I said simply, like it was the most obvious answer to that question.

His eyes searched mine like he didn’t know whether to kiss me or carry me out over his shoulder.

Then I leaned in once more, let my lips almost graze his, and whispered with a smile he couldn’t see. "Did you know I’m wearing nothing under this?"