Chapter 3. Between Power and Despair

Jasmine looked around and was surprised to see Mr. Hawthorne lying beside her. Her desire to not let sleepiness take over had now turned into regret. Annoyingly, her carelessness had led them both to the same bed.

Just as Jasmine was about to get out of bed, her hand was suddenly grabbed by Mr. Hawthorne who was awakened by her movement. Although Jasmine tried to break free, her rebellion meant nothing to Mr. Hawthorne who held her hand tightly.

Mr. Hawthorne cast a brief glance at the digital clock on his nightstand, then said, "It's seven in the morning, and it's far too early for you to resume your power games."

"What are you talking about? Let go of my hand!" growled Jasmine.

Mr. Hawthorne grinned, mocking, "Where do you think you can run to? Do you want to jump off this building again? Your death will have no effect on my life."

With fiery eyes, Jasmine challenged, "I know that you have power and can do anything, but there is one thing that you will never have, and that is me. I'd rather die than deal with a schemer like you!"

Through those sharp words, Jasmine had already brought about an atmosphere of deep tension between them. Mr. Hawthorne had never enjoyed waking up in the morning in such an irritating manner.

"Pond water doesn't clear your head," Mr. Hawthorne snapped coldly.

As the tension thickened, the conflicting eyes met again. Mr. Hawthorne got up and pulled Jasmine until their bodies collided. The grip of power was felt by Jasmine as Mr. Hawthorne did not let her escape the coercive closeness.

Mr. Hawthorne brought his fingers to Jasmine's shirt buttons, trying to undo them. Before this could happen, Jasmine threw out her hand first, about to slap the impudent man who intended to touch her body. However, the slap was unsuccessful as Mr. Hawthorne swiftly restrained Jasmine's hand. His eyes glanced for a moment at the hand that was close to her cheek, then he flashed a joking smile.

Mr. Hawthorne sniffed the palm and kissed it suddenly, an action that triggered disgust in Jasmine. Mr. Hawthorne's touch exceeded physical boundaries, her psychology was being toyed with. Jasmine could feel the threatening bonds if she didn't quickly escape the crush of intimacy.

"You are provoked by just a small kiss on your hand, your body feels warm." Mr. Hawthorne smiled with a seductive look, then brought his kisses to gently slide down Jasmine's inner arms.

Mr. Hawthorne enjoyed his role as a predator, feeling a sense of satisfaction as he reinforced his dominance. On the other hand, Jasmine does not react as her vision slowly dims. Mr. Hawthorne felt Jasmine's body tighten, instantly halting his seductive advances.

Mr. Hawthorne's furrowed as his gaze scanned Jasmine who was drooping in his arms. "Miss Everhart," he called, but no response, enough to make doubt creep into his mind. "You didn't pretend to faint to avoid your fate, did you?"

Mr. Hawthorne let out a long sigh and said again, "Thomas, your daughter is not only stubborn, but also troublesome."

Mr. Hawthorne laid Jasmine down, then worried steps and the sound of talking on the phone filled the room. Dr. Calum Lawson would soon come to the penthouse and check on Jasmine's condition.

***

With a last gasp that still echoed in the room, Dr. Lawson ended his examination. He put away the stethoscope, then walked out of the room without saying a word. Mr. Hawthorne, who was supervising the examination, followed the doctor's departure.

Dr. Lawson, not wanting to disturb his patient, chose to talk outside. He waited patiently for Mr. Hawthorne, only when his good friend was standing in front of him would he open up.

"You made me rush here just for a patient with a fever. I will prescribe medicine for her to bring her temperature down. Make sure your woman is not dehydrated and let her rest well," Dr. Lawson said with dedication.

Mr. Hawthorne nodded. "I understand," he replied, his voice still sounding uneasy.

Amidst the silence that filled the room, Dr. Lawson chose to open another conversation, "Did Miss Everhart faint in the middle of lovemaking to make you feel so uneasy?"

"Not entirely true and not entirely false either. I did intend to make love to her, before she finally fainted," Mr. Hawthorne revealed, a mixture of confession and irony.

Dr. Lawson tried to stifle her laughter, but she found it so difficult that she burst out.

"What's so funny?" Mr. Hawthorne seemed to disagree with that reaction.

Dr. Lawson still tried to hold back his laughter, wiping the wet tail of his eyes. With a witty smile, he commented lightly, "I didn't expect a woman to catch a fever while dealing with you."

Mr. Hawthorne chuckled, both hands clasped around his waist with a heavy expression. "It's because of last night, she was thinking of jumping off this building because she didn't want to be my mistress. I tried to clear her mind by throwing her into the swimming pool."

Dr. Lawson listened thoughtfully, pondered for a moment before saying, "Throwing a woman into a swimming pool is not good manners, Kins. But I approve if you're doing it to stop a suicide attempt. You know, even hospitals provide tranquilizers like antipsychotics to reduce symptoms of resistance or anxiety."

Dr. Lawson's facial expression turned to astonishment as he added, "But... you want to make her your mistress?"

Mr. Hawthorne switched to sitting on the sofa, lighting a cigarette with skillful movements. He put his feet up and leaned back, his eyes scanning the coffee table as if searching the wooden surface for answers.

"Her father stole from me, not knowing where he was hiding until recently. I took him to repay his father's debt."

Dr. Lawson sensed that their conversation would be long and serious, so he sat down as well. "Your cruelty is deeply ingrained," he said, fully understanding his friend's character.

Mr. Hawthorne exhaled his cigarette smoke. "I have a reasons."

"Still cruel," hissed Dr. Lawson. "By the way, don't you think about the level of frustration one feels when in a hopeless position? That woman could have been an impact on you, I don't think charming her in your penthouse was a good move."

"You're worried about me?"

"There are three points why I say that to you. First, because you are my patient who always comes at unexpected times. Second, because your wealth is the foundation of the hospital where I work. And third, because I don't want to lose my job if the hospital stops operating. I'm worried about myself."

"It doesn't sound like that."

Dr. Lawson sighed, feeling the moral weight on both shoulders. "Well, I'm worried about you. Are you satisfied?" he said reluctantly.

Mr. Hawthorne grinned at Dr. Lawson's honesty. He extinguished the flame of his cigarette and calmly placed both hands on his thighs. "She wouldn't dare to do that."

"Like I said, someone in a hopeless position can do anything to get out of it. You should pay attention to that, Kins," Dr. Lawson advised. "I don't want to lose a friend like you."

Mr. Hawthorne's eyes accidentally found Jasmine standing in doubt on the steps. "She chose death over being my mistress, that's proof enough of her weakness and incompetence," he muttered, then strode steadily across the room to Jasmine's position.