Chapter 32 Strategist

Jasmine stood rooted to the spot. Her hands were clasped tight due to the turmoil within her. She couldn't bring herself to step into the car, not when she felt so filthy.

"Thank... thank you, but no, I wouldn't want to bother you," she said stiffly, waving her hand dismissively.

Ethan didn't press further. He had considered just driving away, yet the sight of Jasmine limping in the rearview mirror stirred an inexplicable irritation within him.

...

Jasmine didn't go home.

The thought of Richard seeing her in such a disheveled state with cuts on her face and hands would only cause him needless worry.

After all, what good would it do to worry her family if she couldn't change the dire situation she was in?

Once, Jasmine had been the apple of the Wilson family's eye, never having to face injustice or hardship throughout her privileged upbringing.

Sheltered and basking in the light of affluence, she had been oblivious to the darkness at society's fringes.

Stripped of everything, she came to a grim realization-how laughable it was for someone without backing to even think of resistance.

Finding a bench in a nearby park, Jasmine gently touched her forehead and lay down slowly.

Her head was spinning.

At this rate, maybe she'd meet a quicker end.

Staring at the burn scar on the back of her hand, Jasmine's gaze solidified.

hurt? It had become

once believed had misunderstood

think their mutual love could lead to such vile

the Wilson family heiress in high school and if Daniel hadn't taken a liking to her, perhaps he would've been the ringleader

was

always luring boys. Strip her down, and let's see how she'll

trying

I've heard about your multiple boyfriends outside

high school, rumors and

envied her beauty; others resented the teachers'

mine, Daniel's girl. Lay a finger on her again and see

later while perched on her desk and reaching out to

suddenly yanked into the

out, trapped in a nightmare once

Haunted by the past.

wasn't particularly harsh, but

her blanket tighter around her as a ward

"Get up."

fever, Jasmine thought she saw a figure bathed in the soft glow of the park lights, standing against the

voice was hoarse, likely

The man's voice was

her eyes, Jasmine murmured, "I'm probably going to

"Why's that?"

should've been dead a long time ago..." Her voice was

not been for the swap orchestrated by her birth mother and the successful heart surgery she had received as part of the Wilson family, she should have died early on. A defiance of fate, some might

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