“Didn’t we agree we were old classmates?" Yasmine thought to herself.

If she remembered correctly, Ivan had sat at the desk in front of hers. Yasmine frowned, realizing she didn’t have much of an impression of him. If it weren't for that reunion where alcohol had clouded her judgment, how could they have ended up in that mess that night, which then turned into regular weekly “dates”?

Yasmine pressed the "unfriend" button, muttering to herself: "Let’s end it here!"

It wasn’t clear whether Ivan was the one cutting ties, or if it was her, or if this relationship was just over.

After disembarking from the plane, Yasmine went over a list of items to pay attention to for the upcoming meeting at Aurora Moonlit. She wrote down everything and touched up her makeup before heading straight to the conference room.

Today, she wore a dark windbreaker, which highlighted her mature and professional aura. Her hair was lightly curled, and she had done her makeup to appear more sophisticated. She even wore gold-rimmed glasses, hoping to leave a professional impression on Aurora Moonlit.

The marketing director of Aurora Moonlit was Rebecca Miller, who was the same age as Yasmine. After a brief exchange of greetings, the two quickly became more familiar. In the meeting room, staff from game development, design, copywriting, data analysis, and programming sat upright, waiting for the product manager to arrive.

Yasmine quietly asked: “Do you think our proposal will be approved? Does the headquarters approve funding quickly?”

Rebecca shook her head: “I’m not sure. The product manager was hired with a large sum from the CEO. Today is his first day, and we haven’t met him yet.”

Yasmine nodded in understanding, planning to quietly observe the situation. She took a sip of hot tea and heard a round of applause. Yasmine put her cup down and clapped along with everyone else.

Through the glass window separating the meeting room, a tall man walked in confidently. His clean, straight black trousers and white cream-colored vest jacket gave him a relaxed, yet composed look.

Yasmine’s smile suddenly froze, and she stopped clapping.

He walked into the middle of the room, scanned the crowd with a smile, and took the microphone to introduce himself in a calm, self-assured voice: “Hello, everyone, I’m Ivan Gate, the newly appointed product manager.”

Yasmine’s expression shifted rapidly, her lips curling involuntarily. She even wondered if it was possible for someone in the world to share his exact name, appearance, voice, and build.

Rebecca couldn’t contain her excitement. She discreetly tugged on Yasmine's sleeve and whispered into her ear: “I didn’t expect someone so handsome! This project is really lucky to have him!”

Yasmine touched her eye corner, then raised her hand to cover her face on her forehead. She immediately felt that this gesture wasn’t very polite, so after a brief struggle, she placed her hand on the table and shifted her posture into that of an elementary school student. Her head and shoulders were straight, and her eyes were lowered.

The lights in the meeting room were bright, and Ivan naturally pulled up a chair and sat at the head of the table. When he smiled, the corners of his mouth curved perfectly, and his gaze carried a sense of authority.

Yasmine secretly observed Ivan, but he pretended not to notice her, so she boldly took a proper look at him.

It was a bit funny, for the past six months, every time they were intimate, it was in a dimly lit room. This was the first time she was seeing him clearly.

Indeed… he had a face that could defy any standard of beauty.

The meeting host was listing Ivan's accomplishments and background, amidst applause. Yasmine heard clearly: “Ivan Gate – 27 years old, graduated from Swift Tech University with a major in computer technology. During his time in college, he was a key member of the development team, establishing the gameplay, art style, user types, and revenue-boosting strategies.

Under Ivan’s leadership, the core elements of the game grew and flourished, and later, when Ivan began overseeing projects related to mobile games, he handed over some tasks to others…”

He was a model figure in the MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game) industry, level 3A for PC, a game Yasmine had once been addicted to.

What a boss! No, he was more of a legend!

Yasmine clapped absentmindedly, momentarily lost in memories of the two of them.

Back in high school, they hadn’t exchanged more than a couple of words. Later, during the semesters when Yasmine participated in art competitions, she wasn’t in class for long stretches, so her memories of him were vague.

She had never noticed that Ivan and she were in the same class at university. Unfortunately, Yasmine never cared about the little details and often kept to herself. She didn’t even know she had a high school classmate at the same university. Plus, since her training was under the “2+2” system, during her third and fourth years, she went to study abroad for two years, so she was unaware of Ivan’s achievements at the time.

At the high school reunion, if it hadn’t been for everyone talking about Ivan, she probably wouldn’t have ended up brainwashed by his charm and ended up spending that wild night with him. She remembered some nasty girl saying: “Yasmine can’t compare to how she used to be, who knows if Ivan even notices her?”

Damn it!!! What does that have to do with me? She suppressed the urge to teach that girl a lesson, and Yasmine wiped away her fake smile. She coldly dropped her wine glass to stop them from using her as their topic of gossip.

That night, she drank a lot, swaying as she walked, her whole body burning with fever. Half-conscious, she stumbled into a dark private room, planning to sit down and sober up a bit before calling a ride home.

She turned on the light, the dim glow seeming to intentionally create a seductive ambiance. Looking around, she noticed Ivan resting on the sofa, eyes closed.

With her curious and competitive nature, Yasmine felt something draw her in, and without thinking, she sat down beside him, gently cupping his face, kissing him while sighing: “So it turns out you have so many girls who secretly love you."

Ivan panicked and fumbled for a few minutes but quickly regained his composure. He then heard her ask: “Do you still have your 'virgin'?"

He rushed toward her, gritting his teeth as he replied: “Not anymore."

And then, he gave her a night of perfect experience, no guidance needed. Perhaps it was the alcohol that fueled their desires, the comfort overpowering the pain—except for the times Ivan kept asking her: “Do you know who I am?"

That night, Yasmine must have called his name "Ivan" over a hundred times. She almost developed Post-traumatic Stress Disorder from it.

That was also the most extraordinary thing Yasmine had done in the last twenty years—half-conscious, half-dreaming, brushing aside all the sarcastic remarks and mockery.

That intimacy was the epitome of perfection. She was honest with herself—she craved physical pleasure. What better way to relieve stress than through sex?