Jasmine had lost count of how many times she returned to Scott’s estate sometimes with flowers, sometimes with tears. Every time, she was met with silence, or worse, the cold slam of a door in her face.
“Please, Scott,” she had whispered once, voice cracking. “I’m still your wife…”
But she wasn’t. Not anymore. And Scott had made that painfully clear.
That morning, as she walked aimlessly outside the estate’s iron gates, her heels clicking against the pavement, she didn’t see the van that slowed behind her.
She barely had time to scream when the door was yanked open and rough hands dragged her inside. A sharp sting hit her neck, and everything went black.
When Jasmine awoke, her body ached. The dim room spun as she tried to sit up. Her wrists were bound, her mouth dry. Shadows moved around her – men with harsh voices, anger carved into their faces.
“What is happening?” she croaked. “Who are you? What do you want?”
One of the men crouched down in front of her, his smile a sneer. “What do we want? We want Scott Jones to pay us what he owes. He’s played us for too long.”
Jasmine’s eyes widened, panic surging through her chest. “Scott? What does this have to do with me?”
Another man barked a laugh. “You think he’ll care if we’ve got you? He should – you’re his precious wife, right?”
–
She swallowed, nodding frantically. “Yes – yes! He will care. Call him! Tell him I’m here tell him to come get me!”
–
The men exchanged looks. “Already did,” one said. “He didn’t answer. Not once.” Jasmine felt her heart drop to her stomach. “No… no, you’re lying – he loves me! He should be here – he should be coming for me-”
“He doesn’t want you anymore,” the first man mocked. “But maybe he’ll want this to end if we up the stakes. And you’ll stay because we want fun.”
“No! No! Nadine! Find her! She is the one! If you want to hurt Scott, find her!” she shouted, “I swear he would come.”
“Fine, if you’re lying. You’re going to die.”
Later on, the metal door swung open again. Two men dragged someone inside, Nadine. Nadine stumbled, bruised and half–conscious, her hair tangled, wrists tied tight. When she saw Jasmine, her eyes went wide with disbelief and fury.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Jasmine, still dazed, gave a humorless laugh. “Wouldn’t you love to know.”
“You gave them my location?” Nadine snapped, voice shaking in disbelief.
“I told them to find you because you ruined my life!” Jasmine screamed. “You took Scott
Chapter 16
away from me, like you took everything! So if they want to make it even with Scott, it should be you because he wanted you now!”
“I didn’t take anything.” Nadine spat. “You both lied, cheated, and hurt everyone-”
The kidnappers cursed under their breath. “Shut up! Both of you!”
They beat them both. Kicked. Slapped. Screamed. And all the women could do was scream louder, trapped in their chaos, bleeding from old wounds and new ones alike.
Back in the city, Niccolo paced violently inside Nadine’s gallery. Her phone was off. Her staff hadn’t seen her. He checked the CCTV, rewinding every second until he saw it: the blurred image of a man walking in, the faint mist of something sprayed in her face, Nadine collapsing.
He didn’t hesitate. “Track that van. I don’t care what it costs, I want her found.”
He called every contact, activated every emergency protocol. And all he could do was wait, fury growing behind his steady hands.
Scott, meanwhile, ignored the dozen messages on his phone from unknown numbers until phone from unknown numbers until one photo came through.
It wasn’t Jasmine.
It was Nadine – bruised, bleeding, unconscious.
He froze.
“What the-” he whispered, staring at the screen. It was like ice poured into his bloodstream.
He picked up his keys and drove.
When Scott arrived at the abandoned warehouse, gun tucked under his coat, he didn’t expect the chaos that greeted him the shouting, the flames beginning to lick the far wall,
–
the acrid smell of smoke and blood.
And then he saw them.
Nadine, tied to a pole, barely conscious. Jasmine, on her knees, hands up, crying.
One of the kidnappers sneered as Scott stepped forward. “You finally showed up, hero. Took you long enough.”
Scott’s voice was cold. “Let them go.”
The leader chuckled. “Pick one.”
“What?” Scott barked.
“Choose, Jones. One lives. One dies.”
Jasmine screamed. “Pick me! I’m your wife! You love me!”
Scott’s eyes darted between them.
Nadine wasn’t begging.
She wasn’t crying.
She looked at him like he was a stron~~~
“I’m not choosing.” Scott growled. “Let them both go.”
But the gunman didn’t move. Instead, he pointed it directly at Nadine’s chest.
“Five seconds, Jones.”
Scott swallowed. His hand trembled slightly.
“Nadine,” he whispered.
45%
Her head snapped up.
“What?” she choked. “You pick me?”
“I choose you,” he said, stepping forward.
But Nadine just laughed bitterly. “Of course you do. Now that everything’s burned.”
He flinched.
“You’re too late, Scott. I don’t want you anymore.”
“Then why are you crying?” he asked, voice low.
“Because I trusted you!” she screamed. “Because I loved you and you let them break me! And now you want to play savior? Choose her! She’s just like you!”
“Shut up!” Jasmine screamed. “He chose me first! I gave him everything-”
“And you almost killed me!” Nadine shot back.
The gunman’s patience snapped. He lifted the weapon toward Jasmine. Suddenly, a loud crack rang out.
Scott fired first and the man collapsed.
Gunfire exploded in the warehouse. Men scattered. Chaos erupted.
In the middle of it, Scott ran to Nadine, cutting her ropes, shielding her from the flames.
Jasmine reached for him. “Help me! Please!”
She looked pathetic, crying, crawling, bleeding.
And in that moment, Jasmine realized what Nadine had always felt.
What it was like to be the one left behind.
Scott lifted Nadine in his arms.
“Don’t do this,” Jasmine sobbed. “Scott–please–don’t leave me here.”
But he didn’t look back.
As the fire rose higher, the last thing Jasmine saw was Nadine unconscious in Scott’s arms, the woman she had tried so hard to erase. The woman who now had everything.
