Chapter 5
“Jasmine!” Zachary grabbed a wine bottle and swung his fists, striking the thugs and throwing himself into the scuffle.
The expensive suit was slashed by knives, leaving streaks of blood across his skin.
Champagne splashed onto his shoulders, shards of glass lodged in his collarbone, and the skin on his hands was torn open.
Covered in injuries, he seemed impervious to pain. He never took a step back. When Jasmine saw him fight with such reckless determination, the knife in her hand clattered to the floor.
The tears she had stubbornly held back–even at her lowest–finally broke loose.
And for a fleeting second, she saw him again as the boy of 16 who had once fought for her without hesitation.
Back then, when classmates were bullying her, he showed
up with a group of people and beat up every one of the boys gossiping next door.
Desks were overturned, books scattered across the floor, and the classroom reduced to ruins. The quiet, studious boy had blood on his fists that day.
The once clean–cut boy, who had never fought before, looked drunk on blood. In front of everyone, he said only one thing. “She’s under my protection. Anyone who touches her again has to come through me first.”
And today, covered in blood and restrained by the bar owner, he still said only one thing. “How dare you mess with my woman! Do you think I’m
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Chapter 5
dead or something?”
The moment Jasmine heard it, her heart tore in two.
Her mask crumbled. She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.
The sound of her crying doused Zachary like ice water. His rage fell away, and he spun toward her–only for Nicole to clutch him tightly.
Her eyes brimmed with tears as she cried out, “Zachary! You’re 26, not 16! Do you even remember who your girlfriend is?”
His expression froze. It was as if his soul had finally returned to his body, leaving him momentarily stunned in place.
After a long silence, he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry… I…”
He couldn’t bring himself to speak. What could he even say? That he was pathetic? After all these years, he still felt a pang in his chest whenever Jasmine cried, and still couldn’t restrain himself from protecting her when she was mistreated.
Fortunately, Nicole took a deep breath, didn’t scold him, and regained her composure. With a choked voice, she calmly recounted the whole chain
of events.
“We were playing Truth or Dare. She lost. Pulled a card that said she had to confess to 18 men. She said she liked watching guys take the bait, so she insisted. We told her not to mess with those thugs. She didn’t listen. Even bragged about sleeping with a 58–year–old before.”
The anger he had just smothered flared up again, blood surging backward through Zachary’s veins. He looked at Jasmine in disbelief, every fiber of his being urging him to confront her directly and demand an answer.
But before he could make up his mind, the people from the private room came forward one by one to testify. They even played the recording of the
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shocking scenario Jasmine had risked everything to describe earlier.
When he heard those unthinkable words, the fragile thread of restraint that had hung in him for four years snapped completely. He tilted his head back, stared at the dazzling lights above, and suddenly let out a booming, unrestrained laugh.
The entire bar fell into a stunned silence.
Once the laughter finally drained the air from his lungs, Zachary carried Nicole over to Jasmine. His eyes, rimmed red from laughing, fixed on her with an intensity that could have shattered her. Every word he spoke seemed to claw at her, “Jasmine… you’re damn incredible.”
Once he finished speaking, he swept the coffee table aside and stormed out with his entourage. Unfinished drinks, fruit platters, snacks, and even game pieces spilled over Jasmine, drenching her completely.
She didn’t say a word. All she felt was a sharp, wrenching pain in her chest, as if something inside her were being torn apart. The agony was so intense she could barely straighten her back. She slid down the wall slowly and weakly, burying her face in her chest and sobbing uncontrollably.
For the next four or five days, Zachary didn’t contact her at all. She shut herself in her room, blocking out every bit of outside news and refusing to step out.
It wasn’t until the landlord came knocking that she opened the door. Her face was pale and drawn.
“I’m sorry,” she explained as she transferred the money. “I’ve been sick and forgot to pay the rent. I’ll transfer this month’s payment immediately. The lease ends at the end of the month anyway. I’m leaving New York, so
I won’t renew it.”
Chapter 5
When she finally lifted her head, Zachary was standing just five meters away. The madness from that day had vanished; now he was calm, cold, and distant. His gaze lingered on the tall tree outside the window, never meeting her eyes.
“Jasmine, don’t think you can leave just like that. You still owe me a lot of money. Who said you could walk away? I’ll give you five minutes. Be ready.”
With that, he turned and walked away, ignoring the landlord’s soft sigh behind him. “Ah, miss, I heard you’ve been ill with cancer, so I came by to
check on you. Don’t worry about the rent; consider it covered. If you need anything, just call me. Don’t be afraid to ask.”
Lateefa Khanam is a spirited writer who finds freedom in horse riding. She cherishes her mare and the newborn foal, calling them her little happy family.
