For days, lissa had been staying with Mike. He’d booked her a suite far from the city—far from the chaos that had nearly broken her.
Still, Mike hadn’t taken lissa without informing Jasmine.
"How is she?" Jasmine asked, taking a seat in the adjacent room. Her eyes followed Mike as he quietly closed the door.
Mike sighed. "She’s doing better than when I picked her up, but she’s barely eating. Jasmine, this is what I’ve been telling you."
"This is not what you’ve been telling , Mike," Jasmine shot back. "What you’ve been telling is to get a divorce and live with you."
"It’s the sa thing," Mike hissed. "Our daughter thinks her world is over—and it is. If you’d stopped her and taken her away sooner, she wouldn’t be like this! Jasmine, do you even know what your daughter told when she called?"
His voice cracked, hands resting on his hips. "She said she wanted to die. Do you know what it feels like for a parent to hear that?"
Jasmine opened her mouth to argue, but instead she let out a cold laugh.
"That’s rich coming from you, Mike." Her tone dropped, sharp and glacial. The look she gave him shut him up instantly. "Don’t you dare lecture about parenting."
Mike exhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. "I got carried away. I’m sorry."
"Anyway," he continued after a mont, "have you broken up with Lawrence yet? You must’ve heard what’s happening with LL Construction. He’s going to declare bankruptcy soon. Everything you have will be taken away."
"I know, Mike. I’m just waiting for the right ti. Besides, he hasn’t even co ho yet." Jasmine sighed heavily and shook her head. "Mike, stop telling what I should do, and focus on what you should."
Mike snorted. "It’s done."
Her brows creased. "What do you an?"
He smirked. "Just wait and see, darling. Good news will co soon, and that bitch Lola will finally reunite with her dear mother."
Jasmine’s brows shot up, but the confidence on his face made sothing in her chest loosen. A small, cold smile curved her lips.
"Good," she murmured.
"Now it’s your turn," he said, stressing each word. "Do what you’re supposed to do. Or don’t tell ... you actually love that clown?"
*****
Jasmine rubbed the back of her neck, stretching slightly. She hadn’t stayed long with Mike, but she was starting to hate these etings. Every ti they t, he pressured her more, and it was becoming unbearable.
Does he think I don’t know what I’m doing?
Love?
Jasmine scoffed, the sound turning into a bitter laugh. "Love, huh?"
Maybe everything she’d done was out of love—just not the kind Mike would understand. It was love for herself. Every ruthless choice, every calculated lie—it was how she survived. The only person she truly loved beyond herself was her daughter, the one who ca from her.
"But he’s right about one thing," she muttered, tapping her fingers on the armrest. "Just not his damn plans."
The day after the G Fashion event, Jasmine thought things had gone well. But when she opened her phone the next morning and saw the news, her heart sank. She rushed to lissa’s room, only to find it empty.
It was a good thing Mike called before panic consud her. Since then, she’d let him take care of lissa while things settled down. Mike thought it was the start of them living as a family again.
But Jasmine had no such plans.
Once I divorce Lawrence, I’ll take my daughter away.
They would leave and live quietly. Returning to Mike would only drag them back into danger—and Jasmine had promised herself never to let her daughter grow up in the kind of world she once escaped.
Determination hardened in her eyes.
I will never go back to that kind of hell.
But when Jasmine returned ho, her steps faltered.
Everywhere she looked, the furniture, the appliances—everything—had stickers plastered across them.
"What’s going on here?" she demanded, turning toward the couch. "Lawrence, honey, what happened?"
It was the first ti she’d seen him in days.
Lawrence sat slumped on the couch, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. Dark circles hung under his eyes, his beard unkempt, streaks of white standing out in his hair. He looked like he’d aged ten years overnight.
He took a long swig straight from a whiskey bottle before resting his elbows on his knees.
"It’s over," he muttered, staring blankly at the room. "Everything... is gone."
"What?"
He laughed, hollow and bitter, before looking up at her. "I had to declare bankruptcy. Everything here—it’s not ours anymore."
Jasmine’s breath hitched. Her grip on her bag tightened. "Why would you do that?! Lawrence, how could you declare bankruptcy without even telling ?!"
When he didn’t answer, she sat beside him and slapped his shoulder.
"How could you do this?! It’s only been days—how could you just—"
"BECAUSE IT’S OVER!" Lawrence bellowed, springing to his feet. "There’s nothing else I can do! Do you think I wanted this?! Clients are pulling out, others are threatening to sue for refunds—!"
He panted, chest heaving. "Summit Partners reached out to them, and NL Group’s out for blood! If I didn’t declare bankruptcy, I’d be behind bars, Jasmine!"
Her eyes widened, the words barely sinking in. Her chest tightened.
"What?" she breathed, before fury overtook her. "How could you—why didn’t you just quit if you were going to destroy everything anyway?!"
She lunged at him, slapping his shoulder again and again. Lawrence let her, until he couldn’t. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her mid-swing.
"Let go! How could you do this to us—"
"It’s alright," he rasped, shaking her lightly. "Jasmine, didn’t you stash so money away for us?"
Her blood ran cold. Her fingers went limp in his grasp. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to him, only to see his smile creeping wider, eerily calm despite the chaos.
"I saw the records," he whispered. "You’ve been moving funds into a private account."
He leaned in close, his voice a breath against her cheek.
"I burned the ledger," he murmured, smiling faintly. "So... we can start a new one with that money, right? You kept that for us, didn’t you?"
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