Chapter 1
The year I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, my daughter married into a wealthy, powerful family.
I thought she would live a life of happiness and luxury.
But the very next year, Landen Carson's first love came back from abroad.
My daughter was tortured by depression, and at seven months pregnant, she was forced by Landen's ex, Karlee Powell, to drink hard liquor.
In a fit of rage, I breathed my last.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in the shoes of the powerful CEO, Landen's father.
I kicked open the door to the private room, and there was Karlee, all smiles and false sweetness, rushing to greet me. "Mr. Carson, what brings you here?"
*****
The whole room instantly fell silent, and every pair of eyes turned to me.
Karlee Powell kept that sugary smile plastered on her face.
"Did Landen send you to pick me up?" she asked.
I ignored her and looked straight at the couch.
Jasmine Brooks, seven months pregnant, was being held down by a few people, forced to drink hard liquor, her clothes soaked in booze.
"Let her go," I said coldly.
The guy in the loud floral shirt froze for a second, then instinctively glanced at Karlee.
Karlee stepped in front of Jasmine, flashing a sweet smile.
"Beckett, Jasmine lost the game, so she's just getting her punishment," Karlee simpered.
I landed a slap square on Karlee's cheek.
"Who said you could call me Beckett?" I sneered.
"Jasmine is the rightful Mrs. Carson, married into our family fair and square. And you? You're nothing."
Karlee's face snapped to the side from my slap, and she gave me a hurt look.
I shot her a stern look.
I said, "Let her go. I won't repeat myself."
Her eyes were getting teary, and she was about to argue back.
Landen protested, "Dad? How could you hit her?"
Landen rushed over, pulling Karlee behind him like he was her knight in shining armor.
I was just about to speak up, but then I saw him shoot Jasmine a furious look. She was pale as a ghost.
"Jasmine, are you for real?" Landen snapped. "Karlee was just messing around with you, and you actually went crying to Dad."
He lunged forward, lifting his hand like he was about to slap her.
A sharp slap cracked through the room.
Everyone sucked in a breath.
Landen went rigid, a vivid red handprint spreading across his cheek. He stared ahead, stunned."Dad... you hit me?"
Then he jabbed a finger toward Jasmine, who stood silently to one side.
"You hit me because of Jasmine?" he demanded, disbelief thick in his voice.
Seeing the shock on Landen's face only made my expression darken.
This was the man my daughter had entrusted her entire life to.
This was the son-in-law I had once begged on my deathbed, praying he would cherish Jasmine and make her happy.
I spoke, my voice slicing cleanly through the tense air. "I'll say this only once."
My tone was glacial, leaving no room for negotiation. "If anything happens to Jasmine or her baby, take this as your final warning. Every one of you will pay."
With that, I took Jasmine back to the Carson mansion and instructed the servants to settle her in properly.
They guided her toward the staircase tucked into the corner of the hall.
When I saw her reach for the door to what looked like a storage room, my brows knitted together and I stepped forward.
"What do you think you're doing?" I snapped, shooting the servants a cold glare.
They exchanged confused looks.
"Sir, this is Mrs. Carson's room," one of them answered.
My eyes widened.
Was this really where Jasmine had been living all this time in the Carson mansion?
A narrow single bed was jammed into the corner.
It was the dead of winter, yet the only thing on it was a thin, threadbare blanket.
I recognized the pattern instantly. I had sewn that blanket myself years ago, before her wedding.
She was the rightful Mrs. Carson, married into this family fair and square.
I forced my anger down, keeping my voice steady.
"Prepare the south-facing master suite upstairs for her. Immediately."
One servant hesitated. "But... Miss Powell's belongings are still in that room."
"Move them out. Now," I said flatly.
They sprang into action at once, rushing back and forth. Before long, the most luxurious suite in the house was ready for Jasmine.
That was when Karlee returned and took in the scene.
"Stop! Who said you could do this?" she barked.
No one in the Carson family paid her any attention.
Fuming, she stomped her foot, her gaze sweeping around until she spotted me standing on the second-floor landing.
She drew in a deep breath, instantly rearranging her expression into something soft and obedient.
One hand went to her pregnant belly out of instinct.
"Mr. Carson, what are you doing?" she complained sweetly. "I'm carrying Landen's child, you know..."
I looked at her without the slightest change in expression.
"Jasmine is pregnant as well," I replied calmly. "And as the legal Mrs. Carson, she deserves the best this family can offer."
Karlee let out a scoff, disdain dripping from her voice.
"The best?" she sneered. "Does she even deserve that?"
"She's nothing but a poor country girl. She should be grateful she was allowed into the Carson family at all, and she still isn't satisfied?" she went on.
I frowned.
What did it matter where she came from?
I might not have been wealthy, but I had never let Jasmine suffer for even a single day.
I gave her everything I could.
Why wouldn't my daughter deserve the very best?
Karlee folded her arms, her mocking smile never fading.