Jasmine's POV

"Useless. Pathetic," I said as I slapped Vicky. "Your daughter's so 'well-behaved'? That's because she can't afford not to be."

Vicky's face turned ghostly pale in an instant.

Then, blinking away tears, she turned to Quentin, crying pitifully.

"Quentin, didn't I tell you? Jasmine doesn't like me or Zoey. I swear, I've never meant to get between you two. I just wanted Zoey to have the father's love she deserves. But if someone like her is going to raise my daughter as a stepmother, Zoey's life won't be easy."

I couldn't help but think, 'She actually dared to imply that I should be the one to raise her daughter? What a fucking joke!'

Right then, Quentin stepped forward and took my wrist, his face showing clear displeasure. "I didn't bring Vicky here to be insulted. Apologize to her. Now."

Vicky, showing softness once more, quickly adopts a saintly expression. "It's okay. I brought it on myself. I touched Jasmine's sore spot first. Normally, she'd be upset."

Then she turned to me, tone gentle and performative as she continued, "Jasmine, I know my existence as his ex-wife has always been hard for you. But I truly don't want to fight. I just want us to get along peacefully…"

Her pitiful expression suddenly shifted as she stepped closer, and her gaze sharpened.

"Miss Jasmine, do you want to know who matters more to him? Why don't I help you find out?"

Before I could react, she yanked my wrist and, with one sudden pull, dragged me into the water.

I'd been afraid of water since I was five, when a harsh nanny intentionally pushed me into a pool. That fear only grew worse after I accidentally fell into a river as a teenager, and it was Quentin who jumped into the raging current without hesitation to save me.

He had told me back then, "No matter what happens, I will always protect you first."

But now it was different.

As I choked and flailed, slipping under the water, I saw him leap into the pool without a second of hesitation,

It was not toward me.

It was toward Vicky.

At that moment, something in my chest shattered.

And then, everything went dark.

...

When I woke up, Quentin sat beside me, looking exhausted. The instant I opened my eyes, he held my hand firmly.

"You're awake! Thank God. I'm so sorry… Yesterday was my fault. You suffered because of me."

I looked into his face, concern, and regret, and felt nothing but disgust.

Without a word, I pulled my hand away.

Quentin froze.

"I didn't mean to abandon you," he tried to explain. "But Vicky's afraid of water, always has been. Something could've happened if I didn't go to her first."

Right then, I thought, 'And me? Was I not afraid of water, too?'

He knew that better than anyone. To his credit, Quentin stayed by my side for the next few days, never leaving, quietly caring for me until I was finally discharged from the hospital.

But that was also the day Vicky called again.

It only took two seconds for his expression to collapse.

"Something's wrong, Zoey and Ella have been kidnapped!"

My heart shot into my throat.

Ignoring the pain still lingering in my body, I went with him to the scene as fast as we could.

We walked in and found both girls suspended a few feet off the ground, wrists and ankles cinched with rope. Vicky knelt nearby, sobbing like a bad scene from a tragedy.

The moment Zoey spotted Quentin, she broke into hysterics. "Daddy, help me! I don't want to die!"

Ella, in contrast, was much quieter. Her eyes appeared red, but she did not cry out. Perhaps, deep down, she already sensed that her father did not love her as much.

Quentin stepped forward, facing the man standing before the ropes.

"Don't hurt the children," he said firmly. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

The man sneered. "I don't want anything. I want you to feel what it's like to lose your family, just like I did because of you."

He was once someone Quentin considered a friend. Together, they built a company, but jealousy led to his betrayal of Quentin.

In the end, he was outmaneuvered and paid the price.

And now, he had come back seeking revenge.

With a twisted smile, he raised two knives and pressed them against the ropes binding the girls.

Jasmine's POV

"The question is simple, Quentin. Your ex-wife's child or your wife's child. Which one do you love more?" The kidnapper's mouth curled. "You have ten seconds. Choose one to save. If you don't, I'll kill them both."

Vicky trembled so hard she could barely stand. She grabbed his sleeve and sobbed, "Quentin, Zoey is all I have left."

For the first time in years, I took his hand too. My voice cracked. "Quentin, if anything happens to Ella, I won't make it."

Unexpectedly, Quentin didn't hesitate this time. He pushed Vicky's hand away and instead gripped mine tightly.

He had picked me.

My heart fluttered just a bit. Maybe, deep down, our daughter still mattered to him.

Then, Quentin raised his head and spoke to the man. "Let my little girl go, or you'll regret it, Carl!"

But the man threw his head back and laughed. He sliced through my daughter's rope in a single stroke of the knife.

I lunged forward to catch her, but I was still a step too late.

She fell like a porcelain doll crashing onto the ground.

Amid the chaos, Quentin and his men seized the chance to catch the kidnapper. Then he rushed to save Zoey. He didn't even glance at me or my daughter. Instead, he held Vicky and Zoey, calming their fear.

Then, Quentin turned to me and explained, "I told you I'd protect you and keep my promises. I know Carl. He wouldn't let me off so easily. He just wanted to force me to reveal who I cared about most, then kill that person to make me suffer. I know how much Ella means to you, Jasmine. That's why I'd never let anything happen to Zoey."

My arms around my daughter trembled. Tears I couldn't hold back poured down my cheeks.

How ridiculous. I'd thought foolishly that he held me and our daughter in his heart.

Finally, as if recalling something, Quentin turned to look at me. Concern filled his face as he looked at the little girl barely breathing in my arms.

"Get Ella to the hospital immediately. Do whatever it takes. Save her."

Fortunately, our daughter was promptly taken to the hospital and survived.

During her stay, Quentin constantly stayed by her side. Vicky called him repeatedly, but he didn't answer.

The day our daughter was finally discharged happened to be the day our passports were ready.

Vicky called once more.

Just as Quentin was about to hang up, I stopped him. "It's fine here. Go see them."

He looked at me, caught off guard, as if he believed I had finally become more 'understanding.' Feeling relieved, he kissed my forehead and quickly left the ward. I then took my daughter's hand, grabbed the handle of our suitcase, and got into a black car.

Quentin had no idea. We were leaving him for good.