Chapter 4. Inner War

Previously...

Jasmine felt disoriented when she woke up. Her limp body unable to suppress the urge to get up, she picked herself up slowly, and with heavy steps exited the room. She slowed down when she heard voices from downstairs. Still caught between reality and dream, she tried to convince herself that what she was hearing was a dialog between two men.

"She wouldn't dare to do that."

Jasmine's wrist was propped against the glass railing, allowing her to peer into the conversation downstairs between Mr. Hawthorne and a man she did not recognize.

Jasmine pondered for a moment, isn't this my chance to escape Mr. Hawthorne's grasp?

Jasmine worked up the courage to step downstairs. She trembled at the cold touch of marble, fumbling with each step, until she reached the end.

"Like I said, someone in a hopeless position can do anything to get out of it. You should pay attention to that, Kins."

Those words made Jasmine wonder if the hopeless person they were talking about was her.

Jasmine did not realize that Mr. Hawthorne's gaze had already caught her presence. It was the man's movement that broke her reverie, making her reflexively tighten her grip on the glass railing. The glint in the man's eyes tried to dominate her again, as if she was a helpless little creature.

At that moment, the man accompanying Mr. Hawthorne interrupted. "Hello, Miss Everhart. You should be resting while your health has not fully recovered."

"Ah, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. Calum Lawson, I'm the doctor who examined you. You have a fever, and I heard there's a story behind it. I found out about it from Kins."

"Then, are you going to help me?"

There was another meaning behind Jasmine's words and Mr. Hawthorne easily read it. Even so, the man wisely did not interrupt, letting the conversation flow.

"Help you? Of course, I did come here to help you," Dr. Lawson said kindly.

A smile spread across Jasmine's face, and she took Dr. Lawson's hand expectantly. "Thank you, Dr. Lawson! You are my savior, I owe you."

Dr. Lawson felt awkward. He was only helping a patient with a fever, but Jasmine made it seem as if she had saved him from death.

Seeing the confusion on Dr. Lawson's face, Mr. Hawthorne said in a calm tone, "She asked for your help to get out of this penthouse."

Dr. Lawson quickly withdrew his hand from Jasmine's grasp. "I'm sorry, Miss Everhart. For that... I can't do it, because my life also depends on Kinsley too." The look of despair on Jasmine's face gave him no heart, so cautiously, he said, "But I can give you a tip to make your condition better."

Dr. Lawson turned to Mr. Hawthorne who was huddled beside him, giving an indirect hint that sharing tips should not be done in front of the person directly.

Mr. Hawthorne raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What?" he asked, as if insensitive to the situation.

Dr. Lawson gave him a sharp look. "You have no manners."

Mr. Hawthorne's furrowed. "Huh?" His expression turned exasperated.

"This is an insult to me," Dr. Lawson continued. "I rushed in here to check on Miss Everhart's condition during my busy schedule, but I haven't had a drink since. You're too much, Kins!"

"Who do you think I am?" asked Mr. Hawthorne in a condescending tone.

"O-of course, someone to watch out for." Dr. Lawson's guts shrank.

Dr. Lawson racked his brains, planning a way for him and Jasmine to have a one-on-one talk. After finding the right strategy, he cleared his throat. "Alright, I'll take it with Miss Everhart."

Dr. Lawson prepared to lead Jasmine away, but Mr. Hawthorne's hand blocked their way.

"I'll get it. You wait here," Mr. Hawthorne interrupted.

Dr. Lawson managed to coax Mr. Hawthorne away, and he quickly pulled Jasmine towards the exit.

"Y-you're really going to help me?" asked Jasmine in an impatient tone, doubt and hope mixed together.

"Shh!" Dr. Lawson placed a forefinger on her own lips. "I'll tell you a secret."

With nimble movements, Dr. Lawson took out a card from his pocket and gave it to Jasmine. "This is my phone number, you can call me."

Jasmine looked at the business card with dashed hopes. "T-this is not what I meant..."

Dr. Lawson nodded. "I know that you are desperate to get out of here, but Kinsley is not a man to be tricked easily. Even if you manage to get out of here, it doesn't mean you're completely free. He has a lot of followers, they could do worse to you if you continue to resist."

"So, what should I do?" Jasmine's voice trembled, holding back tears.

Dr. Lawson grew more compassionate. "For now, follow her wishes."

Jasmine shook her head quickly. "I can't follow his wishes. H-he wants me to...!"

Jasmine's words trailed off, thinking about how Dr. Lawson would react if she brought up her being asked to be Mr. Hawthorne's mistress, which meant they would have to do something like make love.

"Why?" asked Dr. Lawson with a curious look on his face.

Jasmine looked down sadly. "I... can't do it..."

In the midst of the floating conversation, the figure of Mr. Hawthorne appeared. His presence had become the center of the two people who were talking confidentially to each other earlier.

"Go home, Dr. Lawson," said Mr. Hawthorne with a displeased expression.

Dr. Lawson walked inside to retrieve his bag, stealing a drink of water from the coffee table. Meanwhile, Jasmine realized that she was still holding the doctor's business card, so she quickly hid it behind her back. Unfortunately, before the business card was hidden, Mr. Hawthorne had already noticed her every move.

"Don't forget about what I said, Kins. Call me if anything happens. I'm leaving now."

Before Dr. Lawson left the penthouse, he exchanged a look with Jasmine. The man simply smiled at the woman who looked so sad, eliciting sympathy for him who could not do much to help. "See you soon, Miss Everhart."

Mr. Hawthorne ushered Dr. Lawson away, leaving Jasmine alone in the penthouse. As everyone left, Jasmine collapsed onto the floor. She had lost too much strength to deal with Mr. Hawthorne's power.

***

Mr. Hawthorne returned without asking much after delivering Dr. Lawson. The doctor's business card had already provided the answer, with no need to dig into the doctor's secret conversation with Jasmine.

Although close in friendship, Mr. Hawthorne still had to be wary. Dr. Lawson, as a doctor who prioritizes his patients, would probably find a solution to help Jasmine in her current situation.

Mr. Hawthorne's furrowed as he noticed the door to the courtyard was open. Worry drove him out quickly, looking for Jasmine, fearing that she might be thinking of jumping again.

"Miss Everhart!" he called out in a loud voice as he looked down at the building.

There was no sign of anyone jumping off the building, Mr. Hawthorne was relieved about that. However, dissatisfaction still loomed large in his mind as Jasmine's whereabouts remained undiscovered.

With hasty steps, Mr. Hawthorne returned to the room. His eyes were glued to the figure of Jasmine standing near the kitchen island, holding a spoon. Their expressions reflected the same confusion and shock.

"Y-you...!" Mr. Hawthorne held back his words, feeling the anxiety that had overtaken him earlier. He was reluctant to discuss her strange behavior earlier, so he decided to approach Jasmine.

The previously tense eyebrows began to relax, but seeing Jasmine hiding something behind her body as he approached, made his expression fill with anger again. "What are you hiding?" snapped Mr. Hawthorne.

Jasmine shook her head. "Leave me alone!"

Mr. Hawthorne reached behind him for Jasmine's hand, suddenly feeling something cold there. He frowned even more, then looked at Jasmine who was covered by his chest.

Mr. Hawthorne picked it up, clearly seeing a carton of ice cream. His anger vanished in the blink of an eye, turning into confusion. "You... ate ice cream?"

Just when I was worried that she would jump off the building, Mr. Hawthorne said to himself.

Jasmine didn't answer, just looked away in embarrassment. Her hunger was so great that she lost her pride to peek into her enemy's kitchen. She didn't realize that Mr. Hawthorne had returned, until a voice calling her name made her, who was hiding near the kitchen island, slowly get up.

Mr. Hawthorne nodded in understanding after analyzing the situation. "I see, you were hungry and wanted to fill yourself up. But," his eyes looked at the ice cream box, "why choose ice cream when you're sick? Aren't there other better options?"

"It's the only one available," Jasmine replied in a quiet voice.

Mr. Hawthorne turned to the refrigerator, convinced that Jasmine was lying and needed to prove it. However, true to Jasmine's word, the kitchen only contained a box of ice cream.

With an annoyed sigh, Mr. Hawthorne looked at Jasmine. "I traveled out of town before meeting you, so my kitchen was intentionally left empty."

He walked over to Jasmine, closed the ice cream box, and took the spoon from her hand. "I'm not a nice guy, but it's not that bad to let a sick person fill their stomach with ice cream. Go back to your room and rest, I'll order some food for you."

Jasmine remained silent, feeling that something was wrong with her situation. Asking for food from an enemy felt like demeaning herself.

Suddenly, Mr. Hawthorne grabbed Jasmine by the neck, making her flinch. She wanted to get angry at first, but the gentle touch on her forehead made her restrain herself.

"Your body temperature is still high. I don't know how you're holding up, but you're obviously pushing yourself." Having said that, Mr. Hawthorne directly lifted Jasmine's body, making the woman squeal.

"Put me down!"

Mr. Hawthorne smirked, paying no heed to Jasmine's protests. He continued to pace and climb the stairs, while Jasmine continued to struggle.

"You'll make us fall if you keep moving," Mr. Hawthorne said casually.

Jasmine's thrashing slowed down, realizing that he could not let them fall down the stairs.

Mr. Hawthorne laid Jasmine down in the room, sat on the edge of the bed, and grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand. Meticulously, he searched for someone's contact number and dialed.

"Ted, can you send me two packed lunches? I want something easy to chew."

"Sure, Mr. Hawthorne. Where should I send them?"

"Just send it to the penthouse. Ah, one moment."

Mr. Hawthorne put his phone away, looking at Jasmine who looked away. "Do you have any allergies?"

Jasmine was reluctant to answer, but then again, she had to compromise with the situation. She nodded and said, "Seafood."

Mr. Hawthorne focused on his phone again. "Miss Everhart and I are allergic to seafood."

Jasmine was irritated by the coincidental equation.

"I also need a few pieces of women's clothing for Miss Everhart," Mr. Hawthorne added.

Mr. Hawthorne stared at Jasmine, surveying the shrouded female body. Their gazes met in that moment, the expression on Jasmine's face looked angry.

"Since we haven't made love, I don't know your underwear size. Can you tell me so Ted can buy them? But if you mind, I have no problem seeing you walking around in my shirt." Mr. Hawthorne smiled meaningfully. "How's that?"