Chapter 3
I stared at his raised fist and sneered.
"I'm about to send this recording, along with the dramatic footage of you and your mom coming at me, straight to your office's 'Happy Family' group chat," I said.
"What do you think Mr. White will say when he hears it? How will he feel about the so-called 'perfect husband' he's been backing?" I added.
Zachary's fist froze, stopping less than half an inch from my nose.
What Zachary cared about most was his carefully crafted reputation as the honest, reliable guy at work.
To protect that, he'd put up with his boss's nonsense, steal credit from his coworkers, and use me as nothing more than a prop for his persona.
Now, I had him right where I wanted him.
His face went from red to green, then white as a sheet. Man, it was priceless.
Zachary asked through clenched teeth, word by word, "What...do you want?"
"What do I want?" I retorted.
"I want to kick all you bloodsucking parasites out of my life," I shouted.
Seeing that the tough approach wasn't working, Leona switched tactics in a heartbeat.
She scrambled up from the floor, not even bothering to wipe the grease off her face, and started crying her eyes out.
"Jasmine, I know you've had a rough day. Brielle is still immature. Let me apologize for her, okay?" she said.
"But you can't just make a scene like this. It's the holidays, and you literally flipped the table. If word gets out, what will people think of the Vance family?" she begged.
"Look at your dad. He's getting older, and he just wants everyone together for a holiday meal..." she added.
She started playing the emotional card, trying to rope me in with all that "respect your elders" and "keep the family together" nonsense.
Brielle pulled herself together and jumped right in, shouting.
"Why should I apologize? She started it! Nobody wants you here. Get lost!"
She really thought she owned the place and could boss everyone around.
I laughed so hard my shoulders shook.
I turned and walked into the bedroom, their confused stares following me as I pulled the property certificate out of the safe.
Back in the living room, I slammed the deed down on the only coffee table that hadn't been destroyed.
"Open your damn eyes and see whose name is on this deed!" I shouted.
On the coffee table, the cover of the deed sat there, the bold letters "Property Deed" practically jumping out at them.
And right there, clear as day, was my name: Jasmine.
Zachary's face turned ghostly pale.
Leona and Brielle were totally stunned.
I bought this place outright with the inheritance my parents left me before I got married. It was my only anchor in life.
When we got married, Zachary said his parents couldn't get used to living back in their hometown and wanted to move in with us in the city so it would be easier to take care of them.
I was totally blinded by love and longing for a lively home, so I agreed.
Little did I know that was the day I let the wolves into my den.
Once they moved in, they started acting like they ran the show.
Leona complained my cooking wasn't good enough, Brielle griped that the stuff I bought wasn't classy enough, and Zachary was always telling me to just let it slide.
They forgot, this house belongs to me—not the Vances.
[System Task Update: Kick these parasites out of your house. Reward: Special health benefit—your breast nodules will disappear completely!]
My eyes lit up when I saw that task.
The breast nodules I'd been diagnosed with six months ago at my checkup had been a thorn in my side. The doctor said it was mostly because of all the stress and bottled-up emotions.
It turned out that going wild wasn't just about staying alive. It can actually heal.
I pointed at the door, my voice cold as ice.
"You have ten minutes to grab your things and get out.
"Otherwise, I'll call the cops right now and report you for trespassing," I ordered.
The air was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Zachary was the first to come to his senses. He reached for my hand, but I jerked it away, disgusted.
"Come on, don't do this. It's the holidays, and it's snowing outside. Where are my parents and Brielle supposed to go?" Zachary tried to pull the emotional card again.
"Go die," I said, staring him down, each word icy and deliberate. "Or sleep under a bridge, at the train station, like I give a damn. Not my problem."
Without another word, I started tossing their stuff out myself.
I marched into their room, stuffed Leona's clothes, Gordon's coffee set, and Brielle's makeup into their suitcases, hauled them all to the door, and started chucking their stuff out, piece by piece.
"My Chanel bag! Jasmine, you damn bitch!" Brielle screamed.
Brielle watched in horror as the bag she'd bought with my secondary card flew in an arc through the air, then plopped into the snow below. She let out a piercing scream.