The basement smelled of damp concrete and rot. The moment the bolt slid shut, darkness swallowed me whole—thick, suffocating darkness that pressed in on all sides.

I hated the dark. Nathan knew that. Everyone in this house knew that.

My breathing turned ragged, my chest tightening with each second. I pressed my hands against the cold floor, feeling grit under my palms. A sudden movement made me freeze—then the sickening skitter of tiny legs across my bare ankle. My stomach lurched.

“Please… no,” I whispered to myself, curling my knees up and hugging them tight. But the cockroaches kept moving, brushing against my skin, their faint tapping against the walls echoing in the blackness.

This was the first time I had truly seen Nathan for what he was. There was no more illusion. No more pretending. This was not the man I married, the man I thought would protect me. This was someone who could throw me into my deepest fear without a flicker of hesitation… and walk away.

Tears streamed hot down my cheeks. I tried to wipe them, but my hands trembled so violently they only smeared the wetness across my face.

I didn’t know when I finally drifted into an uneasy sleep—my head against the wall, my arms aching from holding myself so tightly.

When I woke, the light from above stabbed into my eyes. The door creaked open and a silhouette appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Jasmine,” a familiar voice said softly.

It was Rebecca. My mother-in-law.

She hurried down the steps and crouched in front of me, her eyes darting over my face, my tangled hair, my dirty clothes. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “What have they done to you?”

I swallowed hard, trying to speak, but my throat felt raw.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling. “I shouldn’t have let this happen. I… I didn’t know they’d really lock you in here.”

Her hand brushed my forehead. She frowned. “You’re burning up.”

The world tilted, heat rolling through me like a fever, and before I could reply, the darkness came again—thicker, heavier.

When I woke next, I was in my room. My head throbbed, but I could hear voices outside the door.

Rebecca again—her voice sharp, angry. “Are you insane, Nathan? You treat your wife like this? I thought you needed her! Tomorrow is your big presentation. What if she refuses to go because you’re too busy parading your attention all over Carrie?”

Her words stabbed deep, each one another reminder that betrayal wasn’t just a wound—it was a constant, festering ache.

Nathan’s voice was low but defensive. “You don’t understand, Mom. I’m stressed. This project—”

“This project won’t matter if she walks out,” Rebecca snapped. “You’ve already made her doubt her place in this house. And you—” her voice dipped lower—“you’re showing far too much interest in Carrie.”

I closed my eyes. Even his mother saw it. And yet… she still stayed silent about the worst truth of all.

Tomorrow, I told myself. Tomorrow, I’m leaving.

When Rebecca finally came into my room, she wore a look of forced calm. “You should rest,” she said gently, setting a tray of food on the table. “I’m sorry for what happened. It won’t happen again.”

I smiled faintly, pretending gratitude. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Not long after, Nathan came in. His expression was tight, his eyes scanning me like he was measuring my mood. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “You didn’t deserve any of that. I was just… stressed. The project’s been eating me alive.”

He sat at the edge of the bed, his hand brushing over mine. “You’ll still come tomorrow, right? We’re presenting together—you promised.”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”

He smiled faintly, kissed my forehead, and left.

Later, I printed the document I had been waiting for. When Nathan came back, fussing over Carrie in the living room—because she was, once again, faking being sick—I approached with the papers.

Carrie turned to me with that sweet-sour smile of hers. “I’m sorry, Jasmine. I was really sick today. Thank you for letting Nathan take care of me. I hope you’re feeling better too.”

I ignored her entirely and handed the papers to Nathan. “Sign this. It’s for tomorrow’s presentation.”

He didn’t even look—just scribbled his signature and handed it back before turning back to Carrie. “You should rest,” he murmured to her.

My jaw clenched. I went back to my room and locked the door.

That’s when my phone buzzed.

A message from Jameson: Everything’s ready. I already stole the client. Tomorrow, I’ll see you.

For the first time in weeks, I lay down and actually slept.

When the morning light came, I was almost at peace.

Until the pounding on the door started.

I opened it to find two police officers waiting in the hall.

“Mrs. Jasmine?” one of them asked.

“Yes,” I said slowly.

“You’ll need to come with us,” the other officer said.

My brow furrowed. “Why?”

The taller officer exchanged a glance with his partner. “We’ve received a report that you attempted to kidnap and harm an infant.”

I blinked, my stomach dropping. “What?”

They didn’t answer—only stepped aside.

And there she was. Carrie. Standing in the foyer. Pale-faced. Eyes wide. Cradling a blanket in her arms like there was a baby inside.

She looked at me with trembling lips and whispered, “Why would you do this to me, sister?”

The heavy clang of the cell door opening made me lift my head. Nathan stood there, flanked by two officers. His eyes were dark, his jaw clenched tight.

He stepped inside, and before I could say a word, his hand connected with my cheek.

The sharp crack echoed in the small space.

“You disgust me,” he spat, and then hit me again. My head snapped to the side, the metallic taste of blood flooding my mouth.

“Stop—” My voice shook.

“I have proof, Jasmine!” he barked. “You tried to kidnap your own sister and tried to kill her baby! The man told us! You paid him!”

“It’s not me, Nathan! I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I was framed—”

“Lies.” He grabbed my arm so hard I thought it might bruise instantly. “Do you know what the men are saying? They said you wanted the baby gone because you lost yours.”

“That’s not true,” I gasped, my voice shaking. “I would never—”

He slammed his hand against the wall beside my head. “Then what?!” he roared.

I glared at him through my tears. “You care so much about her son—rushing to protect them, acting like you’d die for them—while us? While our baby? You didn’t even bother to protect us! You were late. And now I wonder… is that even her son? Or is he yours?”

For a split second, something in his eyes flickered, then vanished. “Don’t start with your drama, Jasmine,” he said coldly. “You’re just trying to make excuses for what you did.”

“I’m asking you, Nathan,” I said, my voice trembling but steady enough to cut through the silence. “Is that your son?”

He smirked, a humorless, cruel curve of his lips. “You’re pathetic. I pity you. That baby will have a father… yours didn’t.”

My chest constricted so hard I could barely breathe. “You’re heartless.”

“Don’t you dare talk to her,” he snapped as movement caught my eye.

Behind him, Carrie appeared—face pale, lips trembling. She clutched her stomach as though there was something precious inside. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Why, Jasmine?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Did you do this because you lost yours? Are you… jealous of my baby? You think that because of the baby I’m gonna steal Nathan? But he was mine first… you stole him!”

“I didn’t steal him! You left him!”

“Don’t you dare talk to her,” Nathan said again, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ll spend the rest of the night here. Tomorrow, you’re coming to the presentation with me—whether you like it or not.” He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. “And if I don’t get the deal, if I find out you’re lying about all of this… I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again.”

He stepped back, gave me one last look full of nothing but hatred, and left—Carrie following close behind, dabbing her fake tears with a handkerchief.

The door slammed shut, the echo reverberating through my chest.

I sat back down, my hands trembling. The pain in my cheek throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the fire in my chest. I could barely breathe—not from fear, but from pure rage.

Rage at Nathan. Rage at Carrie. Rage at every single person who had stood there and believed her lies over my truth.

Hours passed—how many, I didn’t know. I tried to sleep, but the metal bench bit into my skin, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw Nathan’s face, cold and unforgiving.

I had almost given in to the thought that I’d be left here overnight when the sound of approaching footsteps made me look up.

The guard unlocked the cell door. “You’re free to go.”

My brow furrowed. “What?”

And then I saw him.

Jameson.

He stood there, his suit impeccable as always, his expression unreadable except for the faint curl of satisfaction at the corner of his lips.

“Come on,” he said simply. “I pulled some strings. He’d think you’re missing after this,” he cut in, waving off the guard. “Consider it my wedding gift because you’re mine from now on.”

“Better than my asshole ex-husband I guess,” I replied.

The car was waiting for us outside. He opened the door, and I slid in without a word. Within minutes, we were boarding his private plane.

Once inside, I pulled my phone from my pocket, yanked out the SIM card, and tossed both into the small trash bin beside my seat.

Nathan’s POV

The morning sun spilled through the blinds, but I barely noticed it. Today was too important—the presentation I’d been working on for months for a billion-dollar project. Everything had to go perfectly.

I adjusted my tie in the mirror, rehearsing my points in my head. “Flawless,” I muttered, grabbing my briefcase.

Carrie leaned against the doorway, cradling a cup of tea. “Are you sure,” she asked slowly, “you’d really let her go after what she did?”

I glanced at her reflection in the mirror. “I’m not letting her go,” I said flatly. “I need her for the presentation. Without her, the project will be incomplete. Whatever else she’s done, she’s still my architect.”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “And after?”

I gave a faint, humorless smile. “After… we’ll see.”

I turned away from her, my tone brisk again. “Have the car ready,” I told the butler. “And go pick up Jasmine in the cell and have her dressed. She needs to be here on time.”

The butler hesitated. “Sir… there’s a problem.”

I froze mid-step. “What problem?”

He swallowed hard. “The police just called… they said… Ms. Jasmine is missing.”