Chapter 3

Amelia was engrossed in conversation with the Langleys, leaving Jasmine no opportunity to join in. Needing some fresh air, Jasmine slipped away into the garden. The Langleys were one of Jesceria's most influential families, and their garden stretched endlessly. After wandering for some time, her feet grew weary, and she noticed a swing set ahead. She sank onto it. Then her gaze caught tiny letters carved into the wooden fence beside the swing—"Calvin and Olivia will never be apart." The handwriting was childish, undoubtedly etched by a young hand. Jasmine remembered that Calvin and Olivia had been childhood sweethearts. Naturally, they would've hung out often at the Langley residence, leaving little traces of themselves. Jasmine was about to leave when Calvin's and Olivia's voices suddenly drifted toward her from up ahead. "My place is getting renovated, Cal, and I don't want to deal with my parents' nagging. Can I stay with you for a while?" Calvin's voice softened as he said, "Of course. I've always kept your room ready for you." Jasmine's fingers clenched around the swing's ropes. The Ford residence had a guest room—the largest and brightest—where the maids cleaned daily and changed the bedding every few days. Jasmine had often wondered why they maintained it so meticulously when no one ever stayed there. Now she knew. That room had always been Olivia's. … The funeral had ended, and Jasmine trailed a few steps behind Calvin. He walked in silence, eyes locked on his phone, making no attempt to speak to her. Jasmine had no interest in chasing after his indifference. The only reason she remained by his side now was out of obligation—the agreement demanded it. Then Olivia caught up to them, looping her arm through Calvin's with effortless familiarity. "Cal, let's stop by my place first to grab my things, okay?" Calvin nodded, as if suddenly remembering that he owed Jasmine an explanation. "Jasmine, Olivia's staying with us for a while. Since you're not busy, be sure that she's taken care of." It wasn't a request. It was an order. Jasmine knew exactly what she was to him—a wife in name only, barely more than a maid. Since they were already on the brink of divorce, she figured that arguing over fairness was pointless. Her face betrayed nothing as she replied, "Alright." Calvin eyed Jasmine. He sensed something off about Jasmine's quick agreement. He had never bothered to hide his meetings with Olivia. In the past, he could sense Jasmine's despondency every time he returned from Elandra. But now, her expression remained unreadable. A flicker of irritation passed through him. After reaching the parking lot, Calvin opened the passenger door for Olivia, ushering her inside. Jasmine moved toward the back seat, her fingers brushing the door handle, when Calvin spoke again. "I'm heading to Liv's home first. It's out of the way, so you'll have to get a cab back." The Langley residence was up in the hills, where cabs were scarce. But Calvin drove off with Olivia anyway as if that fact had never crossed his mind. Jasmine stood on the hill, battered by the icy winds for over an hour. Finally, a driver agreed to take her after she paid an extra 200 dollars. She was starving and drained by the time she got home. Yet, the dining room buzzed with laughter. Calvin, Olivia, and Sonia were crowded around the table, digging into a stack of pizzas. Sonia's face twisted into a scowl the moment Jasmine walked in. "Where have you been, Jasmine? You took forever. We had to settle for frozen pizza because there was nothing else for dinner." Calvin placed a slice of beef pepperoni pizza on Olivia's plate before glancing back at Jasmine. "Cora's dressing ruined the salad. Fix it." Cora Foster, the maid, shot Jasmine an apologetic look. She had once been the cook, but after Calvin kept rejecting her meals, she'd been demoted to cleaning duties. With Jasmine unexpectedly absent and Cora not knowing Calvin's preferences, he'd insisted on frozen pizzas instead. Cora had always treated Jasmine kindly. Not wanting to make things worse for her, Jasmine headed to the kitchen to prepare a fresh salad. Jasmine had just set the salad down when Sonia started bossing her around again. "Make us some meatballs, Jasmine. The store-bought ones taste terrible. They're nothing but processed junk." Exhausted and starving, Jasmine didn't have the energy to cook. Instead, she slumped into her chair and heaped her plate with potato wedges, beef meatballs, and cheddar-stuffed meatballs. When Jasmine ignored her demand and helped herself, Sonia snapped, "Jasmine, what's your problem? Are you even listening?" Jasmine chewed slowly, swallowing a meatball before replying, "These are processed junk, so I'm doing you a favor by eating them. And as for making fresh ones tonight? That's not happening. We're out of ingredients. Maybe you should go buy some." Sonia choked on her anger. She spun toward Calvin, ready to tattle, but he cut her off before she could speak. "Order takeout if you don't like it." Calvin had always taken Sonia's side whenever she and Jasmine clashed. But that day, he didn't rush to defend her because he thought that Jasmine was being considerate by agreeing to let Olivia move in. Fuming, Sonia tore into her beef pepperoni pizza with a vengeance. Jasmine knew better than to believe that Calvin would suddenly speak up for her. As he had expected, he added, "Olivia loves butternut squash soup. It's a hassle to make, so wake up early tomorrow and get it ready." Her fingers tightened around her fork, her gaze turning to ice. To Calvin, Olivia mattered more than even Sonia. Jasmine could refuse to cater to Sonia, but Olivia? That was out of the question. Thus, Jasmine offered a thin smile. "Sure." She'd agree, but whether the soup would be palatable? That, she couldn't promise. Olivia smiled sweetly at Jasmine and said, "Thanks, Jasmine." Jasmine remained silent, her attention fixed solely on the meatballs on her plate. Meanwhile, Sonia seethed. Jasmine had taken every last meatball, leaving none for her. The moment Jasmine stood, Sonia seized her chance. With a swift flick of her fork, she tipped the steaming mushroom soup forward. The scalding liquid splashed toward Jasmine. She jerked back but was too slow to escape. Pain lanced through her arm, white-hot and biting. Her face went pale, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. Yet Calvin didn't even look her way. His focus was entirely on Olivia, whose hand had caught a few stray drops, her skin already turning pink. "I'm taking you to the hospital!" In one swift motion, he swept Olivia into his arms and strode out. Sonia threw Jasmine a triumphant glance before following behind them. Cora stepped forward to help Jasmine up. She rolled up Jasmine's sleeve, revealing rows of blisters, their angry red marks stinging her eyes with pity. "Mrs. Ford…" Jasmine hissed in pain, sucking in a sharp breath. "I'm fine, Cora. Don't worry about me." In the end, Cora hailed a cab and took Jasmine to Fortaire Hospital, a private hospital backed by Ford Group. A doctor treated her wounds before a nurse hooked her up to an IV drip. Knowing Cora still had to return home to care for her grandson that night, Jasmine insisted that she leave. Alone, she dozed in the chair, only stirring when the nurse returned to remove the IV. Jasmine grabbed her bag and turned to go when she overheard two nurses murmuring nearby. "I heard Mr. Ford reserved the entire VIP floor just so Ms. Zeller could rest undisturbed tonight." "For a few minor burns? They'd have healed on their own if she'd arrived any later. Was that really worth an entire floor?" Jasmine paused mid-step, glancing at her injured arm as the absurdity of it all struck her. After taking a cab back to the Ford residence, she washed up and collapsed straight into bed. … The next morning, Calvin's voice jolted Jasmine from her sleep. She blinked groggily, turning toward him in confusion. "What's wrong?" His face was stone-cold, the air around him thick with displeasure as he said, "I told you to get up early and prepare the butternut squash soup. Where is it?"