INICIAR SESIÓNJasmine
“What the fuck!?” For a second, nobody moved. The room smelled like sweat and cheap vanilla candles—the type Mia always burned when she studied. Her laptop still sat open on the desk beside the bed, highlighted notes glowing against the screen like some sick joke. Jason was sprawled across the mattress, his bare chest heaving, one hand gripping Mia’s waist while she ground against him, her eyes still drunk with pleasure. My best friend and my boyfriend. Their faces snapped toward the doorway at the same time. Jason’s eyes widened first, panic flooding his expression. “Jasmine—” Mia scrambled backward so fast she nearly fell off the bed, clutching the sheet against her chest. Her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes. There was a bruise forming on her neck. I couldn’t stop looking at it. Couldn’t stop looking at either of them. Three years with Jason. Twelve years with Mia. It felt as if someone had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart until it stopped beating. Suddenly, every strange moment from the past two years came rushing back. The canceled dates. The unanswered calls. The study sessions that somehow lasted until midnight. The way Mia always defended him whenever we argued. The way Jason always seemed to know things about my life before I told him. Things I’d told Mia. I had spent so much time trusting them that I had never considered that I should be questioning them. God, I was an idiot. “Jas, wait—” A laugh escaped me, one so loud it made him flinch. “Wait?” I repeated. “You want me to wait?” Neither of them answered. For the first time, I noticed how ridiculous they looked. Mia wrapped in a bedsheet. Jason, half-naked, scrambling for his boxers. Two people who had clearly been caught and hadn’t planned for what came next. The humiliation hit me so suddenly that it almost knocked the air from my lungs. Not because he had cheated. Because they had made a fool out of me. For how long? How many times had they looked me in the face afterward? How many movie nights? Had they laughed about it when I wasn’t around? The thought made something cold and ugly settle in my chest. Mia finally found her voice. “Jasmine, I can explain—” I turned to look at her, and she immediately fell silent. Good. Because there wasn’t a single explanation on earth that I wanted to hear. “Twelve years,” I said quietly, my voice sounding distant. “Twelve years of friendship, and this is what you do?” Tears filled her eyes. Jason swung his legs off the bed and stood. “Baby, please—” “Don’t you fucking baby me,” I gritted out, my eyes stinging. “Both of you make me so fucking sick.” I turned and walked out. Behind me, I heard movement, curses, and hurried footsteps. “Jasmine!” Jason shouted. “Baby, hold on—” I yanked the front door open. Cold air hit my face—a feeling that used to ground me, but now felt like mockery. I barely made it two steps outside before a hand wrapped around my wrist. “Jas, please—” “Don’t you fucking touch me!” I ripped my arm free so violently that it made my shoulder sting. Tears blurred my vision now, hot and relentless, and I hated that he could see them. Jason stood there half-dressed and breathless, his hair a mess from her fingers. My chest tightened so sharply it hurt to breathe. “So this is the studying?” My laugh came out broken and ugly. “The really important assessment?” “Jasmine, I—” I shoved him hard enough to force him back a step. “My best friend, Jason.” My voice cracked on the words. “Of all people... how could you do this to me?” He opened his mouth, then closed it again. For once, he had nothing to say. “I trusted you,” I whispered. “I trusted her.” Jason dragged a hand through his hair. “Baby, listen to me. It was a mistake.” A mistake? The word hit something raw inside me. I looked at him slowly. “How long?” His face changed instantly, and that hesitation told me everything before he even spoke. “Jas—” “How long have you been fucking her, Jason!?” He swallowed hard, his eyes dropping for a second. “Two years,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. The silence lasted only a second, but it felt like an eternity. “Two years.” I stared at him. The words didn’t register at first. Two years? More than half of our relationship. A strange sound escaped me. A moment later, I realized I was laughing. Not because anything was funny, but because if I didn’t laugh, I was going to fall apart right there on the sidewalk. While he kissed me. While she called me her sister. While I trusted them both with everything. I looked at Jason and suddenly couldn’t recognize the man standing in front of me. The person I loved would never have done this. Maybe he had never existed at all. “Baby, please—” My hand flew to his cheek, landing a harsh slap. His head snapped to the side, his skin instantly turning a violent shade of red. He held his cheek, irritation flashing across his face. “You know this is all your fault,” he said suddenly. “If you hadn’t starved me all these years, maybe I wouldn’t have crawled into your best friend’s bed for sex.” A ghostly laugh escaped my lips. “Oh, so now you’re blaming me for your infidelity?” I tightened my grip on the Victoria’s Secret bag and scoffed. “And to think I had everything planned out.” He paused, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?” I took a few steps toward him and stopped. “Jason, I just want to say thank you for stopping me. God, I can’t believe I actually wanted to give myself to you today.” His eyes widened. “What?” I shook my head. “You know what, Jason? Fuck you,” I spat, hurling the bag at his chest. “And fuck her.”JasmineThe sound of charcoal scraping across paper was the only thing breaking the silence.The noise seemed louder than it should have been, echoing through the studio while I stood under the overhead lights, trying very hard not to think about the fact that I was standing in the middle of a stranger’s workspace wearing far less than I was comfortable with.My arms were rigid at my sides, my shoulders feeling locked in place. Every muscle in my body had been tense from the moment the session began.He hadn’t said much since positioning me beneath the lights. There were no inappropriate comments, no smug reminders, and no attempts to make me uncomfortable.The only sounds in the room were the scratch of charcoal against paper and the occasional creak of the wooden floor when he shifted his weight.It should have made things easier.Instead, it unsettled me more because nothing about this matched the version of him I’d built inside my head. It would have been easier if he’d acted like
JasmineI stood across the street from a renovated warehouse building in Lower Manhattan, staring at the address on my phone for what had to be the tenth time.This was it.Professor Jackson’s studio.My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag as I looked up at the building again. It was the kind of place that belonged in an architecture magazine—all exposed brick, industrial windows, and black steel framing. Quiet, expensive, and intimidating.Not at all what I’d imagined.Every instinct was telling me to turn around and leave before I made an even bigger mess of my life.For a moment, I seriously considered it.I could walk away right now. Go back to campus. Pretend this arrangement had never happened and hope Professor Jackson eventually lost interest.The thought lasted all of three seconds, then a laugh slipped from my lips as reality settled heavily in my chest.He wasn’t going to lose interest. And I couldn’t afford to take that risk.One rumor was all it would take—one ac
JasmineI scoffed.Of course.“A proposition?” I repeated coldly. “You’re a professor. If this gets out, you could lose your job too.”His expression barely changed.“True.”He stood slowly from his chair, the movement alone shifting the air between us.“But I can get another position elsewhere,” he said calmly. “I’m a professor, Miss Buston.”He stopped a few feet away, his gaze dropping briefly to the scholarship badge attached to my bag.“But you?” he continued quietly. “You’re a scholarship student from a poor background. Lose that, and then what happens?”Every word landed precisely where it hurt most. My jaw tightened instantly, humiliation burning inside me because I knew he was right—he knew, and I hated him for it.“What do you want?” I asked. “I’m guessing you want something in return.”He nodded stiffly before closing the distance between us.“I want you to model for me, for a private art series,” he said, his gaze locked with mine. “Nude.”My entire body went rigid.“What
JasmineSomething about Professor Jackson had been bothering me for the entire lecture.It wasn’t just that he was attractive. That much was obvious.It was the strange sense of familiarity that kept tugging at me whenever he spoke.Every time his voice rolled through the lecture hall, something in the back of my mind stirred, as if I were reaching for a memory that refused to come into focus.It was ridiculous.I had never met this man before—I was sure of it.A face like his wasn’t forgettable. Still, whenever his gaze swept across the room, my pulse would trip over itself before settling again.By the time class ended, I had convinced myself it was nothing more than a coincidence.Then he looked directly at me.“Miss Buston.”My head snapped up. The hall was already beginning to empty.“Yes, Professor?”His expression remained unreadable.“To my office, please.”My stomach dropped.Around me, students continued filing toward the exits. Ari shot me a sympathetic look that immediatel
JasmineThe pounding in my head woke me before my alarm did.For several seconds, I lay perfectly still, my eyes closed against the sunlight filtering through the curtains. The brightness felt cruel, pressing insistently against my eyelids while a dull ache pulsed behind them.Every part of me felt heavy, as if someone had replaced my bones with lead during the night.A low groan escaped me.Something wasn’t right.The mattress beneath me felt unfamiliar. The air smelled wrong. Even the silence felt different.My eyes opened slowly. The unfamiliar room came into focus piece by piece. Dark walls, a black dresser, and a chair in the corner with my dress thrown carelessly over it.My brow furrowed in confusion before understanding slammed into my chest all at once.This wasn’t my room.I pushed myself upright too quickly and immediately regretted it.“Fuck.” I winced.The room tilted violently, sending a fresh wave of nausea through me. A low groan escaped me as I pressed my fingers agai
JasmineThe bass from the speakers thudded against my ribs hard enough to feel like another heartbeat.Or maybe that was just the alcohol.I sat hunched over the bar, a half-empty shot glass in my hand, my fifth shot of the night. At that moment, the bar felt like a safe space.Even though it smelled like whiskey, sweaty bodies, and a mix of different perfumes, it still felt better than going home.Home meant silence.It meant my bed.It meant crying until morning with Jason’s groans trapped in my head and the image of Mia’s hands all over him every time I closed my eyes.I lifted two fingers toward the bartender.“Another.”The glass in front of me disappeared, and another one replaced it almost immediately. I stared at the liquid for a second before lifting it to my lips. The drink went down my throat in one gulp, sharp enough to make my eyes water.At least this pain made sense.Because none of the rest of it did.Three years.Three years of believing I’d found the person I was goi







