His Secret Child, Her Revenge: Remarrying Up novel Chapter 7

The next morning.

Jasmine did her makeup simply and changed into a cream-colored tweed skirt suit.

The sharp tailoring accentuated her tall, elegant frame, and her dark, wavy hair fell naturally over her shoulders. She looked sophisticated yet imposing—radiating an effortless charm.

She was negotiating a business deal today; she needed to look the part.

When Jasmine walked out, Mrs. Gable's eyes lit up.

"Ma'am, do you have an important date today? You look stunning."

Jasmine offered a small smile. "You could say that. I have a meeting."

Mrs. Gable didn't pry further, only adding, "It's good to get out more. Staying cooped up in this house is bad for the soul."

Jasmine understood exactly what she meant.

"By the way, Ma'am," Mrs. Gable lowered her voice, ensuring no one else was around. "The Matriarch, Mrs. Vance, and Felicity... they're all moving in here. They say it's to help with the baby."

Madeline and Victoria hadn't lived with Jasmine and Silas before.

And Felicity was supposed to be in Julian's old villa.

But now, because of Felicity, three households were merging into one.

This house was about to get very crowded.

To help with the baby?

What a pathetic excuse!

"Mrs. Gable."

The housekeeper brought over breakfast. "Yes, Ma'am?"

"I know you care about me," Jasmine said quietly. "But from now on, don't try to stand up for me in this house. You need this job, and I can handle my own business."

Silas might overlook things because she'd been with the family for decades.

But Madeline and Victoria weren't so forgiving.

One wrong move, and Mrs. Gable would be out on the street.

At her age, finding a new position would be nearly impossible.

"I understand, Ma'am," Mrs. Gable replied softly.

Jasmine had just taken a bite of her sandwich when a sudden wave of nausea hit her. She gagged.

Mrs. Gable, a woman of experience, gasped. "Ma'am, are you...?"

Jasmine shook her head quickly, signaling her to be quiet.

Mrs. Gable covered her mouth and swallowed her words.

"Mrs. Gable, no matter what you see or guess, keep it to yourself. Please."

The housekeeper nodded. "Don't you worry, Ma'am. I haven't seen a thing. I don't know a thing."

Jasmine felt a wave of gratitude. "Thank you."

Mrs. Gable sighed. "Please take care of yourself, Ma'am."

"I will."

Jasmine had no appetite left. She drank a glass of warm milk and headed out.

Just as she started the car, Silas called.

"Chloe's back. Her flight lands at two this afternoon. Go pick her up."

Jasmine refused point-blank. "I have plans this afternoon."

Silas sounded annoyed. "What plans could you possibly have?"

"Since when am I not allowed to have my own life?" Jasmine countered. "She's your sister. Why can't you pick her up yourself?"

Was Felicity really more important than his own flesh and blood?

"I have to be at the office. I don't have time. Just go for me."

"I don't have time either. I—"

"Silas, come quick! The baby's spitting up milk!"

Felicity's voice suddenly drifted through the phone.

"Look, just do it. I have to go," Silas snapped before hanging up.

The owner stared at the box, practically salivating.

In all his years in the trade, he had never seen a piece this rare and stable in value.

It would be a tragedy to let it go.

But where was he going to find eight million in cash on such short notice?

An employee hurried over and whispered something in his ear.

"Please wait a moment," the owner said. "I need to discuss this."

Jasmine closed the box. "Fine."

Twenty minutes later, the owner returned, holding up five fingers with a wide, beaming smile.

"A hundred million. We'll take it."

Jasmine thought she'd misheard. "I said eighty million."

"I know," the owner said. "But I can't take advantage of someone in a tight spot. To be honest, this necklace is worth way more than eighty. We're willing to pay 100 million. Does that work for you?"

Jasmine couldn't quite wrap her head around it. "Are you kidding me?"

"Not at all. We're serious."

Jasmine paused. "Cash on delivery."

"Of course. But with an amount this large, the transfer won't hit today. Give me forty-eight hours. Once the funds clear, you can hand over the necklace."

Jasmine found it hard to believe.

Was this really just a stroke of insane luck hitting her over the head?

Was life actually being this kind?

"Miss, I'll be honest with you," the owner whispered. "It's not me buying it. Our chairman saw the piece and wants it for his private collection. He's the one who insisted on the higher price to show his sincerity."

Jasmine smiled faintly. "I'd like to meet your chairman and thank him personally."

"He said he should be the one thanking you for such a rare find," the owner replied. "But he's a private man; he doesn't do introductions."

Jasmine pulled her thoughts together. "Fine. Let's do it your way."