Self

Chapter 49

Yale burst into his room, tore through the closet, and stormed Into Yara’s personal dressing room. There, all her designer gear, the clothes, and the gifts he had given her, Including the watch and jewelry, were all lined up perfectly.

Nothing was missing.

His eyes locked onto a cherry bracelet, and his breath hitched, a fierce look in his eyes.

He remembered giving it to her on their third anniversary, a token from abroad. Cherry sounded like cherish–a symbol of how much he valued her.

She used to cling to it, barely ever taking it off. However, she had left it behind, like she was shedding her love for him, one piece at a time.

Yale sank on the bed’s edge.

It hit him like a ton of bricks–Yara was not just upset; she meant every word.

She truly wanted to end things.

Bang!

The sound echoed to Mary downstairs, sending a shiver down her spine. She raced up the stairs, anxious about what she might find.

Mary had just reached the front door when she nearly bumped into Yale. He stormed out of the coat room, his face dark like a storm.

“Young Master!”

She called after him, wanting to know what was up, but he did not look back as he strode away.

She turned around and almost lost her breath. The coat room was trashed. The fancy jewelry case was shattered, clothes with their price tags still on were tossed all over, and the Bohemian rug was a total wreck. It looked like a disaster zone.

She had just finished scrubbing the kitchen, dumping out a pot of soup that had gone bad, and then that mess waited for her in the bedroom.

Mary muttered, “Come on! Give me a break.”

The club’s lights swirled, the music was cheesy, and scantily clad guys and gals were tearing it up on the

dance floor.

Off to the side, Yale was nursing a drink all by his lonesome.

He slammed down whiskey like it was water, not savoring the taste but drowning his sorrows.

The flickering lights played across his chiseled face, giving him an air of cool and irresistibly hot mystery.

A woman, drawn–like a moth to his brooding vibe, tried to ignore the chill he gave off and sidled up to him.

“Hey, handsome. Drinking solo? Why don’t I join you?”

She leaned in, her off–the–shoulder top revealing more than a glimpse of her curves, enough to make any guy do a double–take.

Yale shot her a frosty look and snapped, “Scram!”

His eyes were like dark pools, sending a shiver down her spine, and she backed off without another word.

Chapter 49

After shaking

the unwanted attention, Yale went back to his whiskey.

He was about to order another when he spotted someone familiar across the room. He bolted after her like a man possessed, reached out, and grabbed her arm with a sudden intensity.

“Ya-

The woman spun around to find a guy with movie–star looks. Her annoyance melted into a sugary grin as she sidled up to him. “Hey, handsome, looking for me?”

That was when Yale snapped out of it, realizing he had got the wrong person. He scrunched his brow and pulled his hand back; Yara was not the type to be so proactive.

“Oops, my bad. Thought you were someone else.”

The woman’s lips twisted in a bored pout, and she tossed a snarky comment at his back. “You’d turn down a freebie? What kind of guy does that?”

The place was a total downer, and he had had enough. Yale downed the last of his drink, grabbed his jacket, and got up to split.

He was almost out the door when…

“Yale!”

Michael slapped his shoulder from behind, all pumped up. “Hey, when did you sneak in? Why didn’t you holler at us? We’ve got a room upstairs. Come on and join the party!”