2

Jasmine

The camera on my phone didn’t shake. I held it perfectly steady, watching the little red ‘LIVE’ icon blink. Thanks to the master access credentials I’d quietly retained after helping design parts of Sterling Media’s shareholder communications network years ago, this wasn’t just going to my private socials.

The feed was streaming directly onto Sterling Media’s global shareholder platform and the massive screen inside the headquarters, where their late-night investor presentation was currently happening. It was perfect timing.

The grunts, groans, and wet, slick sex noises from the room suddenly stopped.

Victoria was the first to notice. Her eyes snapped open, looking straight at me. Instead of panicking, a slow, incredibly smug smile spread across her face. She didn’t even pull the sheets up.

“Oh. Look who decided to show up,” Victoria purred, intentionally shifting her weight to stay tangled with my husband. “You’re late for your anniversary, Jasmine.”

Jason froze. He turned his head slowly, his face instantly draining of color when he saw me standing in the doorway. He scrambled backward, nearly tripping over his own trousers as he tried to pull the duvet over himself.

For a fraction of a second, something sharp twisted in my chest. Three years of love, sacrifice, and humiliation flashed through my mind.

Then the feeling disappeared.

I felt nothing.

“Jasmine! Wait—it’s not what it looks like,” Jason stammered, his hands shaking as he tried to cover his chest. “I swear, I... we were just... I’m sorry. This doesn’t mean anything. I can explain, let me explain.”

I didn’t blink. I didn’t cry. My expression remained completely blank.

“Explain what, Jason?” I said, my voice deadpan. I glanced between them. “The fact that you are fucking your stepsister right now? The same one you told me I was insecure about?” My gaze settled on him. “Or the fact that you chose to do this on our anniversary night?”

“Don’t act so holy, Jasmine,” Victoria snapped, sitting up and crossing her arms, her voice dripping with venom. “You’ve been a ghost in his life for three years. A penniless, boring drag. He deserves a real woman, not a charity case. You have nowhere to go anyway, so shut up and let him handle it.”

“Right. A charity case,” I murmured, entirely unbothered.

Jason looked completely desperate now, sweating despite the perfect air conditioning. “Jasmine, please. Just put the phone down. Let’s talk about this privately. We can fix this.”

“Nah,” I shook my head. “I highly doubt that.” I glanced at my phone screen. “I’ve already taken it to hell.”

“Stop being such a pathetic bitch and give him the phone!” Victoria yelled, finally realizing something was wrong as her own phone on the nightstand started buzzing repeatedly.

Jason noticed the angle of my arm. He lunged out of the bed, reaching aggressively to snatch the phone out of my hand. “Give me the damn phone, Jasmine!”

I stepped back seamlessly, completely out of his reach.

At that exact moment, my screen started flashing with financial alerts. I glanced down. The live chat on the shareholder platform was moving too fast to read, thousands of furious investors screaming for answers. News reports were already breaking. The headline at the top of my screen read: Sterling CEO Caught in Live Affair. Right below it, the real-time stock ticker showed a sharp, violent red line.

Sterling Group stock had just plummeted by 8% in less than four minutes.

Numbers kept climbing, the stocks kept falling, and the panic was spreading.

Jason’s phone began to ring loudly, likely a call from someone at the company. He froze, looking from his phone to me, his chest heaving with panic. His eyes were wide with fear. “What have you done, Jasmine?”

I looked down at my hand. I reached down, twisted the diamond wedding band off my finger, and let it drop. It hit the hardwood floor with a sharp click, rolling right to his bare feet. The sound it made as it hit the floor was too loud in the quiet room.

“There, I’m officially asking for a divorce.”

At that point, all the color had drained from his face. “What?” he asked in disbelief.

I didn’t look at Jason. I looked directly into the camera lens of my phone.

“As of tonight, the Sterling name is a liability,” I said clearly.

I ended the stream, turned on my heel, and walked out.

I drove straight back to the Sterling mansion. I didn’t have much to pack, just a few personal clothes and a small box of sentimental items I’d kept from my life before this marriage. I kept it quick, wanting to be out before the media circus caught up to the estate.

But someone was already waiting for me.

When I dragged my small suitcase out through the front doors, the sky had completely opened up. Rain was pouring down in sheets. Standing under the grand porch was Jason’s stepmother, Eleanor. She was holding two more of my old bags, her face twisted in absolute disgust.

Before I could even step onto the driveway, Eleanor threw the bags straight past me. They landed with a heavy, wet splash right into a massive puddle of mud at the curb.

“You absolute piece of trash!” Eleanor shrieked over the sound of the rain, her voice shaking with rage. “You ruined my son’s company with your pathetic little stunt! How dare you! Look at you! You’re leaving here with absolutely nothing, just like the day you dragged your penniless feet into this house! I knew he should never have had anything to do with your poverty-stricken self. I warned him, but he never listened. Now look what you’ve done!”

I stopped. I looked at the cheap bags soaking in the mud. Then I looked at Eleanor.

A small, genuine smile broke across my face.

“You’re right, Eleanor. I am leaving with nothing of yours,” I said softly.

“Don’t you dare smile at me, you orphan!” she barked, stepping forward to glare down her nose at me. “Go on! Walk down the street in the rain. Let’s see how long your pride lasts when you’re begging for a meal!”

I didn’t answer. I just stepped over the wet clothes, walking casually out to the curb.

“You’re pathetic! You’ll get what’s coming to you, I promise...”

I drowned out her voice. Right as I reached the edge of the driveway, Eleanor’s expression suddenly changed. Her rant stopped mid-sentence. Confusion flickered across her face.

Then the dark street lit up.

Headlights appeared through the heavy rain. One pair. Then another, and another.

I slowly turned around.

A loud, synchronized roar of engines cut through the sound of the heavy storm. A flawless convoy of six sleek, armored black SUVs pulled up to the curb. They moved with military precision, completely blocking off the street.

The door to the vehicle in front clicked open.

A man in a perfectly tailored, formal suit stepped out into the pouring rain. He didn’t care about the water. He walked straight toward me, stopping exactly two feet away before bowing at a perfect, rigid ninety-degree angle.

“Welcome back, Miss Vance,” his voice boomed, clear and commanding. “The global board of directors is fully assembled and awaiting your arrival.”

I nodded once. Then I stepped inside the dry, leather-scented warmth of the luxury vehicle.

Through the tinted glass window, I looked back one last time. Eleanor was standing frozen at the edge of the porch, the driving rain soaking her expensive hair. Her mouth hung open. Her eyes were fixed on the convoy.

For the first time since I’d known her, she looked afraid.

Then the mansion disappeared behind us.

And so did my old life.