His Secret Child, Her Revenge: Remarrying Up novel Chapter 4

Sierra felt truly sorry for Jasmine and gave her a tight hug.

"If only the hospital had mixed up the samples and the baby wasn't that bastard's. Then I'd have a godson.

"Hmph! I hope that the mistress's brat isn't his either. Let him see how it feels to be cheated on."

Jasmine couldn't help but laugh and warmly stroked Sierra's soft cheek.

"The chances of those things happening are nearly zero, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Jasmine's mood had lifted slightly.

Before heading back to Kingsley Bay, she tore the lab report into shreds and threw it in a trash can.

Mrs. Gable noticed her pale complexion and asked with concern, "Ma'am, you don't look well. Are you sick?"

In the entire Vance household, this was the only person who genuinely cared for her.

Jasmine forced a smile. "I'm fine, Mrs. Gable. I'm just a little hungry. Is there anything to eat?"

No wonder she had felt so hungry lately; there was a new life growing inside her.

What would her child have looked like?

The thought of that little life disappearing soon made her heart ache.

"Yes, of course. I've made some stew. I'll go get you a bowl."

Jasmine sat at the dining table and suddenly had a thought.

"Who did you make the stew for?"

Mrs. Gable hesitated. "It's for the second young madam. Mr. Vance said she's weak and needs to recover, so he told me to make it. He said he'd be back later to pick it up."

Sure it was.

"I made extra though, specifically so you could have some, Ma'am."

Jasmine suddenly lost her appetite. "Never mind. I'm not that hungry."

Mrs. Gable was a smart woman. "Ma'am, let me make you a handmade pizza instead. Back in my hometown, I was famous for them."

Jasmine knew Mrs. Gable was trying to be kind and didn't want to refuse her.

"Alright, I'll give them a try."

As Mrs. Gable moved efficiently around the kitchen, Jasmine watched her, feeling a rare moment of peace.

Her phone suddenly rang. Seeing the caller ID, her heart grew heavy again.

Jasmine reluctantly answered.

Eleanor Thorne's voice came through like a command.

"Come home this afternoon. Your father needs to see you."

Jasmine was preoccupied. "I'm busy this afternoon."

She actually wasn't, she just didn't want to go.

Her parents' house was no better than the Vances'.

Eleanor was clearly displeased.

"Whatever it is, drop it. You have to come home today."

Jasmine leaned back lazily against the chair.

"I said I'm busy."

It had been twenty-eight years. Even a servant would have finished their sentence by now.

Eleanor clearly didn't expect her usually submissive daughter to be so firm. She was stunned for a few seconds.

"We worked so hard to raise you just so you could spite me? If I'd known, I would have left you out in the cold to starve!"

Jasmine gently rubbed her belly and said coolly, "If I had died, how would you have gotten your 'blessed son'?"

Jasmine wasn't Eleanor's biological daughter.

She was an orphan they had adopted.

Arthur and Eleanor had been married for years without a child. They had tried everything to no avail.

When Eleanor was nearly thirty, she finally conceived, but the baby was stillborn.

Eleanor, a woman who believed in the mystical, sought out a fortune teller.

The man told her she needed to adopt a girl with a specific birth chart first. He claimed this girl would bring the Thorne family their true heir.

The Thornes were fated to be childless, but this girl was fated to have a sibling.

Eleanor naturally believed him.

And so, Jasmine became the girl chosen by "fate" and was brought into the Thorne home.

Initially, because they had no other children, Eleanor treated Jasmine well.

But four years later, when Hugh, their son, was born, Jasmine was relegated to the sidelines like a forgotten concubine.

The only silver lining was that Eleanor hadn't given her some humiliating "waiting-for-a-brother" kind of name.

Hearing Jasmine's words now, Eleanor's heart skipped a beat. Her anger cooled instantly, though her words remained sharp.

"Are you looking down on us now that we're struggling? Do you think we're not good enough for the 'Mrs. Vance'?"

Jasmine heard a familiar footstep at the door.

Eleanor continued, "Your father is under so much pressure; his health isn't what it used to be. Do you just not care if he lives or dies?"

When the stick didn't work, she tried the carrot?

She had to admit, the method was effective.

Jasmine thought, Well played, Mrs. Gable!

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