Moonlit Confession: One More Chance With My Beautiful Mistake

"Why so distracted?" Rhett Yates asked.

The moonlight spilled through the window, wrapping the room in silver light.

Steam lingered in the bathroom, and shadows swayed on the walls.

Alina Clarke was pressed against the cool tiles, the man behind her close, his grip firm on her wrists held high above her head. His other hand anchored her waist, the pressure leaving faint red marks across her skin.

A low chuckle brushed her ear. Then came the heat of his breath. A gentle bite. A slow, deliberate caress.

Heat bloomed through Alina's body, wave after wave.

She trembled, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.

An hour passed before her knees finally gave out, and she sank against him.

Rhett caught her with ease, his arms wrapping around her from behind. He laughed softly, kissed her bare shoulder, and after a moment, lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the bathroom.

By the time she was laid gently on the bed, her body had given in, heavy with exhaustion.

She watched as Rhett tied his robe loosely and walked toward the bedroom door. Summoning her strength, Alina sat up. "Rhett."

He stopped, turning his head. "Hm?"

"I want to talk."

They had been married for over six months, yet it felt more like a merger than a marriage.

The intimacy was there, yes. But their hearts and minds never quite met.

Even on nights like this, no matter how intense it got, they always ended up in separate rooms.

It made sense, she thought. This wasn't a marriage born out of love. It was arranged, deliberate, and strategic. In many ways, it was a transaction.

Hearing her tone, Rhett turned fully, but instead of returning to the bed, he chose the sofa opposite.

He sat casually, legs crossed, tapping his fingers along the armrest in a rhythm that matched his laid-back charm. "What's bothering you?" he asked.

Alina stared at him, her desire cooled, her thoughts clear. "I want a divorce."

His fingers froze. The lazy air around him grew colder. "What did you just say?"

She didn't repeat herself. She didn't need to. He had heard her loud and clear. "I've already asked my lawyer to draw up the papers. They're on the table in the living room. You can sign them whenever."

The silence that followed stretched long and tight. The air felt different now-heavier, stiller.

Rhett's gaze locked onto hers, his usual smile gone. "Does your family know?"

A love marriage was never something to take lightly-and an arranged one, even less so.

Every decision sent ripples outward, affecting not just two people but the web of relationships, alliances, and shared interests built around them.

Alina replied, "This is my choice to make."

Rhett's throat shifted with a silent swallow, his face giving nothing away. "If you're certain, then so be it."

She nodded. "I am."

The way they spoke about divorce felt more like a meeting than a breakup. Just like their discussion of marriage had been.

Without another word, Rhett stood and walked toward the door, his footsteps swift.

But just as he reached the doorway, he paused, as if something had just occurred to him. He turned back, his smile making a brief return-wry, amused, sharp. "So if you've decided on a divorce, then what was that in the bathroom?"

Alina stayed silent, her hand tightening around the sheet.

He tilted his head. "A farewell performance?"

Her nails dug into her palms. She forced herself to meet his eyes. "Mr. Yates, are you saying you're struggling to take this like a grown man?"

The tension between them sparked again, electric and brittle.

Rhett's fingers hovered on the doorknob, but his chest felt oddly tight. He met her gaze, and then gave a short, cold laugh. "Struggling? Not at all. If you ever get the urge again, just call."

Alina's voice was calm. "Thank you, Mr. Yates. But no-I won't."

It was a clear ending. From this moment on, they would go their separate ways, no strings, no expectations. Just freedom and the return to lives that had never truly merged in the first place.

When Rhett left, Alina's spine finally slackened. She let out a long breath, steadying herself. Her fingers reached for her phone on the nightstand. She typed a message and hit send. "I've spoken to Rhett. Please go ahead with the divorce arrangements."

The message went through, and the response popped up right away. "You're actually going through with it?"

"Yes," Alina replied.

"You're certain this is what you want?"

Alina typed back. "Being stuck in a half-hearted relationship is like standing in place while everything else moves forward. Some people get used to it. I can't."

"Fair point. Rhett really is a jerk sometimes."

"It was an arranged marriage. No need to make it more than it was."

With that final message, Alina set her phone aside and slipped under the covers.

But sleep didn't come easy.

The air in the room still carried traces of Rhett's shower gel-dark, musky, rich.

It was a scent that once made her feel safe. But tonight, it clung to her like a ghost.

The next morning, when Alina came down for breakfast, Rhett was nowhere in sight.

The housekeeper, placing a plate of food carefully on the table, said with caution, "Mr. Yates left earlier this morning."

Alina's fingers brushed the rim of her glass. "Got it."

The housekeeper had served the Clarke family for many years and had watched Alina grow up. She hesitated before speaking again. "He took his suitcase with him."

Alina gave a small nod. "Thanks for the information."

The housekeeper shifted uncomfortably. "Mrs. Yates... did something happen between you and Mr. Yates?"

Alina looked up, her face calm. She wasn't hiding anything. "We're getting a divorce."

The housekeeper froze, clearly shocked. She opened her mouth as if to ask something but held back. After a pause, she carefully asked, "Was it his decision? Did he find out about... the Clarke family situation?"

Alina's voice remained steady. "It was my decision. He doesn't know."

The scandal surrounding the Clarke family hadn't gone public yet. Alec Clarke-her grandfather-was still trying to contain the damage. Rhett couldn't have heard about it.

The housekeeper stared for a second longer, lips pressed together, and was about to ask more. But Alina downed the last of her milk, answered a phone call, and left the house, giving the housekeeper no chance to probe further.

She drove straight to the office.

While she was driving, her assistant gave an update on the interview situation. "The interviewee's image tanked before we even got started. Some misconduct-his own secretary leaked it. One of the top ten entrepreneurs, now crashing down like a stack of cards."

Alina asked sharply, "Do we have someone else lined up?"

The assistant paused. "No backup yet."

Alina's tone dropped. "Didn't I make it clear? Every feature interview should have a backup."

The assistant went silent, sensing her mood.

After a moment, Alina said, "I'll be in the office in thirty minutes. Start reaching out to heads of other companies now. Anyone who can slot in quickly."

"Got it."

Alina added, "And one more thing-just be straightforward on the calls. Don't try to sugarcoat it. Those execs' assistants are sharp. They'll figure out we're scrambling the moment they glance at our release timeline."

"Understood."

The call ended. Alina rubbed her temples.

It really never rains-it pours.

When she stepped into the office, the tension was obvious. The department of journalists buzzed with frantic voices, ringing phones, and people pacing between desks.

The staff had already tossed the old draft. All the hours spent on that now felt wasted.

As soon as they saw Alina, the staff all greeted her respectfully.

She nodded. "Any luck getting someone to fill the slot?"

No one answered.

Noticing the silence, Alina could already guess how things stood. She set her handbag down on a nearby desk, gave a quiet nod for them to carry on, and walked out.

Minutes later, she stepped into the editor-in-chief's office.

Carl Simpson, the editor-in-chief, was in his early forties and had built a reputation for demanding perfection. He valued clean execution over personal excuses.

After Alina explained what happened, his face darkened. "You're telling me this now? When the issue's practically locked?"

When something went wrong, responsibility needed to be taken.

She didn't shift the blame. "It was my mistake."

Carl shook his head. "It's not just about blame. The question is-how do we fix this?"

She had already thought of that. She just needed Carl on board. "What if we move up Zayne Sutton's interview to this issue?"

Carl didn't respond at first. He stared at her, thinking. Then, he picked up the phone and made a call with Alina still in the room.

The person on the other end must have agreed, because Carl's expression lifted. "Really? Perfect. Next Wednesday, then."

He ended the call and gave his desk a light tap. "We'll use Zayne's interview this round. That means we have an empty spot where his was originally planned. You'll prep for an interview with Mr. Yates to fill that."

The name hit her like a slap. Her eyes twitched. "Which Mr. Yates?"

Carl looked at her like it should've been obvious. "Rhett Yates. The Yates Group."

Alina couldn't find her voice.

After stepping out of Carl's office, Alina raised her hands to rub at her temples.

The plan to get Rhett on board for a feature in Trend Weekly wasn't something they had come up with on the fly-it had been sitting in the pipeline for a while.

But Rhett had always turned it down before, so it never went anywhere.

Now that it was finally happening, Alina's chest felt tight, and any sense of satisfaction was nowhere to be found.

Back in the department of journalists, Alina walked over to one of the workstations and gave the desk a light tap. Everyone turned toward her. She said calmly, "We're moving Zayne Sutton's interview up for this week's issue. Start prepping for a feature on Mr. Yates from Yates Group next Wednesday."

As soon as she said it, a collective sigh of relief spread through the room.

With the fire put out, a few interns relaxed and slipped into chatter.

"Mr. Yates from Yates Group? That's Rhett Yates, right?"

"Who else could it be?"

"I heard he's really intimidating."

"Maybe, but he's ridiculously good-looking on TV."

"I read somewhere that he's super loyal-been with the same girl since freshman year."

The whispers picked up energy, but Alina didn't stick around to listen. She turned and headed back to her office.

After placing her handbag on the couch, she walked to the corner, poured herself some coffee, and took a sip. Her mind drifted back to what the interns had been saying.

It was true-back in university, Rhett had started dating a girl during his freshman year. People used to talk about how close they were. But by the time they graduated, it had ended.

No one knew the real reason behind the breakup. Some said the girl left for something better, something bigger.

After that, Rhett never got involved with anyone else. And years later, he agreed to marry Alina-not for love, but for an alliance.

Her thoughts shifted from the beginning of their relationship to their upcoming divorce.

She wondered if he'd signed the divorce papers yet.

Realistically, Rhett wasn't the type to drag things out.

She reached for her phone and texted Maddie Sanderson, the person she'd messaged the night before. "Have you reached Rhett?"

The reply didn't take long. "I have. He even complimented me."

Alina sent back a question mark. "?"

Maddie texted back. "He said I've handled everything-from your wedding to your divorce-with full service."

She was the one who had drawn up the prenup when Alina and Rhett got married.

She wasn't just Alina's go-to legal expert-she was also her closest confidante.

Though Maddie was single, she dealt with divorces every single day.

She liked to joke that working in divorce law had cured her of any desire to get married.

Just like that, a week slipped by. Before Alina knew it, it was Wednesday again.

Early that morning, Alina walked into the studio with the interview script in hand. She hadn't even taken two full steps inside when two staff members hurried over, worry written all over their faces.

Before either of them could say a word, Alina beat them to it. "What's wrong?"

One of them looked ready to cry. "There's barely any time left, but Mr. Yates still isn't here."

Alina's brows pulled together. She checked her watch-ten minutes to go. "Have you reached out to his assistant?"

"We've tried," the staff member replied, "but we're not getting any response."

Alina lifted her head. "I'll handle it. You two focus on getting everything else ready."

The staff looked visibly relieved, like a weight had been lifted off their shoulders. "Thank you."

Alina gave a small nod and walked out. As she reached into her pocket to call Rhett's private number, she nearly ran straight into him. He had just stepped in from outside, bringing with him a crisp breeze.

Rhett outside the home was a different man entirely. Sharp suit, composed expression, a luxurious watch looped around his wrist. His presence was cool, almost cold and unapproachable.

Their eyes met briefly, but neither one flinched or said a word.

Rhett looked her way without slowing down. He didn't give even the smallest pause as he walked right past her.

His assistant, trailing behind, dipped his head and muttered a quick, almost whispered, "Mrs. Yates."

His voice was so quiet.

Alina heard it but said nothing.

The interview began shortly after. As always, Alina took the lead as Trend Weekly's chief journalist.

Once the introductions were out of the way, she smoothly transitioned into the real questions.

With a neutral smile, she asked, "Mr. Yates, you're known as one of Priarpus' most desirable bachelors. No controversies, no gossip. Do you have any specific qualities you look for in a partner?"

Rhett sat straight, fingers slowly tapping the armrest. His reply was flat. "No preferences."

Alina let out a light, polite laugh. "That's something people with very high standards tend to say."

Rhett didn't budge. "I'm just being honest."

Alina blinked, the words catching her slightly off guard. She turned her gaze down for a moment, and then moved on. "Are you seeing anyone right now, Mr. Yates?"

Without changing his tone or expression, Rhett said, "I'm currently going through a divorce."

The studio instantly buzzed with noise.

"Wait! Going through a divorce?"

"He's married? Since when?"

"Did anyone know about this?"

"Whoa, this is huge! Rhett had a secret marriage and a divorce? This issue's going to fly off the shelves."

The comms in Alina's earpiece came alive. The post-production team was practically shouting over each other. "Alina, this is gold. Ask everything. When did he get married? Why are they ending it? If you can get the reason-boom, headline."

Alina met Rhett's eyes for a moment. Her fingers curled slightly around the edge of her script. She hadn't expected him to be that blunt. But she didn't flinch. She went on smoothly, "There's been no public word about your marriage. Would you mind sharing when it happened?"

Rhett's voice was steady. "Late fall, last year."

She smiled faintly, her tone light. "You really know how to keep things private, Mr. Yates."

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "My wife didn't want it public."

Then he added, almost carelessly, "Maybe she thought I wasn't worth announcing."

There was no way to respond to that, so she forced a weak smile and moved to the next question. "Would you be willing to share the reason behind the divorce?"

At that, Rhett paused. A slight, amused smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. Leaning slightly toward her, he spoke in a low voice, meant only for her to hear. "You don't know why I'm getting divorced?"