THE BROKEN WIFE REVENGE

CHAPTER 3

THREE MONTHS LATER

JASMINE’S POV

“The court has given their order for you to be discharged. You can go now.” The doctor announced.

I nod stiffly. “Thank you,” I say, though I don’t mean it. What am I thanking him for? For disregarding the truth? For playing Martin’s game? For watching as I rotted in here, day after day, knowing I didn’t belong?

I pick up the only things I have left: a single wrinkled gown, my old jacket, and my iPhone. That’s it. Three months ago, I had a home, a husband, a life, and a flourishing business. Now, all I have is this.

The first few weeks in the ward had been depressing. Martin had bribed everyone, even the doctors, spinning a lie where I was the unstable, violent ex-wife who needed to be locked away. My legal team abandoned me. The media swallowed his lies whole, painting me as some deranged woman who couldn’t handle a divorce. My name was dragged through the mud whenever I turned on the news.

Jasmine Carter: From Wealthy Socialite to Violent Lunatic.

Jasmine Carter: The Unhinged Ex Who Couldn’t Let Go.

It was a public execution, and I was powerless to stop it.

But after a while, I realized there was no point in crying over a battle I’d already lost. Martin might have won the first round, but this wasn’t over.

When I stepped out of the building, I thought maybe a friend or an acquaintance would be waiting outside for me, but there wasn’t a single soul. I don’t know why I expected them to be.

I pulled out my phone and called my best friend, Kiara. She might not have been informed that I would be discharged today, so maybe that’s why she wasn’t here. She knew Martin had been a lying bastard, and she had been by my side since day one.

I called once. No answer.

Twice. Nothing.

On the third ring, she finally picks up.

“Hello? Who is this?”

For a second, I wondered if she had changed her number, but no. It’s her voice. It’s her.

I swallow. “It’s Jasmine. Can you come pick me up? I need a ride.”

“Oh… You got discharged today. Time does move fast.”

That’s all she says. Not “Are you okay?” Not “I missed you.” Just… that.

Something cracks inside me.

“I’m sorry,” she answered. “I’m kind of busy.”

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “That’s okay. Can you send one of your drivers to pick me up?”

Another silence.

Then, a long sigh. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Martin hired me.”

I freeze. “You are working for Martin?”

She hesitates. “I didn’t have a choice. I needed the money. He offered a good position, and with everything I’ve been through, I—” She exhales. “I couldn’t turn it down.”

“So, what? You can’t be seen with me now?”

Silence. Then, softly—“No.”

A sharp, bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Wow.”

“Jasmine, please. It’s not like that. I swear I wanted to help, but—”

“But what?”

“The catering business went bankrupt.” She sounds ashamed.“I didn’t want to ask you for more money. You had already done enough for me. I wanted to be independent.”

Independent? That’s why she chose Martin over me

I shake my head, gripping the phone like it’s the only thing holding me together. “Kiara, you could have told me.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “But I couldn’t keep relying on you. And then… Martin offered the job, and Jasmine, the pay is really good. I have a baby. Two kids. Things have been so hard since their father left. I—I had to take it.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep myself from crying. “What about everything we have been through? You were my best friend.”

A tiny voice cries in the background. Kiara gasps. “Oh—hold on, my baby just fell—”

“Kiara—”

“I have to go,” she says quickly. “I’m sorry. I really am. I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

And then—click.

The line goes dead.

I stare at my phone, feeling… empty.

Kiara and I had been friends since high school. I was there when her mother was dying of cancer, and I paid for every single medical bill so she wouldn’t have to watch her suffer. I was there when her husband abused her, when he left her and her kids with nothing. I gave her a home. I built her a business. I ensured she never had to feel alone or struggle like I once did.

And the one time—the one time—I needed her… she wasn’t there.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been wandering, lost in my thoughts, but when I looked up. I saw the face of a man I knew too well on a massive billboard.

My high school boyfriend and first love.

William Stone.

He was exactly what I needed. He was powerful, a multi-billionaire, and he feared no one. He was exactly who I needed to take down my ex-husband and his pregnant girlfriend.

************

I approached the front desk, where a sharply dressed woman sat, her manicured nails clicking against the keyboard. She glanced up at me, and the moment her eyes landed on my face, she frowned.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I need to see William Stones,” I answered.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but—”

“Then I’m afraid you can’t see him,” she replied, returning her attention to her computer.

“Please. It’s important.” I pleaded.

She barely spared me another glance. “I suggest you leave before I call security.”

“I need to…” but I didn’t have the chance to complete my sentence before the office door swung open and William stood there.

Time had made him even more handsome than I remembered in high school. He was taller with broader shoulders and so attractive that I immediately felt self-conscious. I should have at least taken the time to look presentable before coming here. But does it matter? He had most likely seen my humiliation on national TV and all over social media.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

The secretary straightened. “This woman was demanding to see you without an appointment. I was just about to call security.”

William arched a brow, then looked at me again. His blue eyes stared at me for a really long time, and I wondered if he believed what the media said, if he thought I was a crazy lady just like everyone else believed, and if he worried that I might ruin his reputation by staying in the same space as me.

“She doesn’t need an appointment.” He replied calmly. “She can come in whenever she wants.”

The secretary’s eyes widened. “Oh—I didn’t realize—”

“You do now,” he said. Then he stepped aside, holding the door open.

“Jasmine.” His voice was quieter now. “Come in.”