While Jasmin was now guarding inside the mansion, Martin stood next to her, his thoughts consumed by the recent events. He couldn't shake off the weight of concern that pressed down on him like a heavy cloak.
"Don't you think you went too far this time?" Martin wondered aloud, his voice laced with genuine worry.
Jasmin sighed, her disbelief palpable. "You really won't stop treating me like a child, will you?"
Martin shook his head, frustration creeping into his tone. "It's not that. You need to focus on your job instead of messing with Davina's family. Yet here you are, competing with her, almost desperately."
Jasmin shot him a glare, her annoyance bubbling over. "I know how this goes. You're going to make me feel guilty for not focusing on something else. Are we not clear on other matters, Martin?!"
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a softer plea. "I only want you to stop harming yourself with this obsession. Walter and Sidel have no idea what you're doing with your job now."
Jasmin rolled her eyes, continuing her patrol around the vast area. "Martin, are you my mother? Do your own job while I do mine. Try picking up a hobby for once. Walter has his own love life to figure out—there are plenty of fish in the sea!"
Before Martin could respond, Jasmin pressed a finger to his lips and gently pushed him away.
"Give it a rest already. I'm warning you, soon you'll just frustrate yourself." Her tone was sharp, but there was a hint of affection buried beneath it.
"Try giving yourself another chance," Martin urged, his worry evident. "I'm sure Janina would appreciate it if you did."
With that, he turned to walk away, but Henry approached just in time, his tension palpable.
Davina observed from a distance, her expression inscrutable as she noticed Henry scolding Jasmin yet again. She overheard him mention a vacation, and her gaze shifted to Martin, who lingered by the entrance, looking dejected. A plan began to form in her mind as she approached him.
"Martin, I have another favor to ask you." Davina's voice was smooth, almost coaxing.
"Anything, but I hope I won't hurt Mr. Meyer again," Martin replied, concern threading through his words.
"It's more than that," Davina continued, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I want you to distract Jasmin from her goals. I know her intentions are pure, but she's using her dead best friend as a card to get close to Florentin and take over his company."
Unbeknownst to them, Jasmin was slowly walking away, her heart sinking as she stealthily snuck closer, eavesdropping on their conversation.
"It's hard to persuade Jasmin if that's what you mean, Mrs. Meyer," Martin admitted, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
Davina smirked, seeing the challenge laid out before her. "Then it will be your problem. But take it as an opportunity. Henry keeps insisting she take a vacation, but I doubt she'll listen—especially after she caught him flirting with his secretary. I cannot afford for someone to ruin my reputation or my family, understood?"
Martin nodded quickly, still trying to grasp the situation. "Alright, boss, but what exactly is my assignment this time?"
"Are you really asking me that? What I need is information. I don't want her taking the company. Use whatever strategy you have! Now do your job," Davina snapped, her impatience showing.
Meanwhile, Jasmin lay low in the bushes, heart racing as she absorbed the words of her adversaries. Hidden from view, she stared at the leaves above, caught between the urge to confront them and the need to remain unseen. The stakes were rising, and the game was far from over.
The moonlight spilled into Andy's room as she squeezed through her window, heart racing. She had promised herself she would be home before midnight, but the adrenaline of the night still pulsed through her veins. As she turned to close the window, she froze. Henry was already there, waiting, the disappointment etched across his face like a shadow.
"What did I tell you about minding your own business, huh?" His voice was low, but it dripped with anger. "You really want to ruin our family."
Andy's heart sank. "Dad, it's not my fault if Jasmin knows your secret. She literally saved me from that child of your first mistress!" Her voice trembled, but she stood her ground.
In an instant, Henry's hand struck her face, a sharp sting that echoed in the silence of the room. "Don't you dare give me that insult! Behave yourself. Now you're giving yourself another trouble!"
"Why?" she shouted, the words bursting out of her like a dam breaking. "I don't understand why you're still concerned with that woman and now that boy too! You even assume it's my fault!"
"Because Jasmin beat the guy and his friends too!" he thundered, his face reddening with fury.
"I don't care about Tim or that secretary! I hate that Mom acts like this never happened; she also knows about this!" The words flew out, sharp and raw, fueled by frustration and hurt.
"Because she's doing the right thing! You hear me? The right thing! That's what you're supposed to do—care about what's best for the family's name. I don't want to be ashamed in front of everyone!" His voice was a mix of desperation and authority, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as her.
With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving Andy in a whirlwind of emotions. She felt the tears welling up, but she fought them back, unwilling to show weakness. Instead, in a surge of anger, she grabbed her mattress and threw it across the room, the soft thud echoing the turmoil inside her.
In the silence that followed, she sank onto the floor, her back against the wall, feeling the weight of her family's secrets crashing down on her. The night stretched on, heavy and thick, as she stared at the disarray around her, wondering how her father could choose the family's image over her truth.
"Did Mr. Henry tell you to leave, right? He wanted you to leave and take a vacation now," the maid urged, her voice barely above a whisper as she stood in the dimly lit kitchen with Jasmin.
"Tell him that and Davina I will leave tomorrow; I will take care of Andy just now," Jasmin replied, her tone resolute despite the urgency in the maid's eyes.
The maid, sensing her defeat, quickly exited the room, her heart racing. Hidden in her pocket was a mini camera, a device she intended to place in Andy's room to gather evidence of the strange happenings around the house. But just as she was about to proceed, the power outage struck, plunging everything into darkness.
"Jasmin!! Jasmin!!!" Davina's voice pierced through the silence, laced with panic.
Jasmin sighed, maintaining her composure. "Relax, maybe the electrician will fix that!" she called back, though unease started to creep into her mind. She quickly shifted her focus to ensuring that Andy was safe.
Meanwhile, Davina remained in her living room, engulfed in pitch blackness. The sudden sound of gunfire shattered the stillness, sending a chill down her spine. "Jasmin!! Martin! Stop this shooting!" Davina screamed, rushing to Henrik, who had been shot in the ankle.
Andy, frightened by the darkness, clutched a flashlight tightly. She planned to use it as an emergency beacon but instead found herself hiding under her bed, heart racing. Outside, hidden among the shadows of the garden, Henry met Anna, his voice low and formal.
"I knew you'd come, but I'm sorry about the power outage," he said, glancing at her worried expression under the moonlight.
Anna trembled, her thoughts racing. "I confirmed to the doctor that I'm pregnant, and you're the father. I can't afford to lose my job if Davina finds out," she confessed, fear evident in her eyes.
Henry, driven by a mix of desire and urgency, pulled her closer, leading her toward the garage. His intentions turned dark as he unbuckled his belt, his actions swift and commanding.
He thrust harder against her back, covering her mouth with a hand as he whispered, "I knew you would give me a son; I will take care of it."
The night deepened, shrouding the house in an unsettling quiet that was only broken by the muted thud of footsteps in the kitchen. Jasmin's heart raced as she peered around the corner, spotting a figure in a black mask darting through the shadows. Without a second thought, she hurled a knife with deadly precision, the blade sinking deep into the man's neck.
Her instincts screamed at her. There were more of them, lurking in the darkness. Suddenly, a sharp pain burst through her back as a bullet grazed her. Gritting her teeth, she drew her gun and fired at the retreating silhouette heading toward Andy's room. The adrenaline surged through her veins, heightening her focus as the tension in the air thickened.
Before she could catch her breath, another assailant grappled her from behind. In a swift motion, Jasmin turned, her gun finding its mark in the man's head. A splatter of blood painted her face, and she recoiled momentarily, the metallic taste of violence lingering in the air.
"Ugh…" she grimaced, wiping the stranger's blood from her skin. A quick glance into the fridge revealed a cereal box that sparked an idea. As she quietly crept through the kitchen, she clutched the box close, determined to use anything at her disposal.
Reaching the door where the last man had vanished into Andy's room, Jasmin took a breath, raising the cereal box as a makeshift shield before firing at the man's right knee. He dropped his knife with a pained grunt, and she quickly stepped on it, pinning him down. A shot to his hand ensured he wouldn't try to escape.
"Now don't make me kill you too," Jasmin demanded, her voice steady despite the chaos. "Tell me who you are working for and why you want to kill Andy."
The man groaned, clearly struggling with the pain. "I didn't want to kill anyone. I just wanted to scare you all."
"That's not the answer I wanted," she snapped, twisting his arm and shooting his left elbow. The sound of his growl echoed through the room, a testament to her resolve. She pressed her gun against his face, forcing him to meet her gaze.
"Alright… it was Mortez. Now happy?"
"With such little information, you think I will be happy?" she shot back, her finger tightening on the trigger as she aimed for his left foot. His scream filled the air, a mix of desperation and agony.
"Come on! I've already told you!" he pleaded, his voice cracking.
"Tell me exactly who this Mortez is! Is this Tim's idea because his ego was hurt? Are you planning to harass Andy again?"
"This isn't what we planned! His mom wants to teach her a lesson."
"Really? His mom? Anything else!" Jasmin pressed, her patience thinning as she shot at one of his fingers, eliciting another scream.
"Please… I had no intentions to kill anyone!" he gasped, terror etched across his features.
"Talk more. Was the mother Henry's secretary? If you don't spill, I swear I will take your organs, your eyes, and even the blood inside you!"
"Yes! Ms. Mortez was furious because Davina threatened her! Davina was trying to force her to resign, but she refused because she's pregnant with Henry's baby! She wants money from him!"
Jasmin paused, the weight of the revelation settling in. She didn't want to kill this man; he had inadvertently given her the lead she needed. Instead, she restrained him with zip ties, ensuring he couldn't escape.
Just then, the electricity flickered back on, illuminating the chaos that had unfolded. Jasmin took a deep breath, her heart still pounding, but now with a sense of purpose. She had the information she needed, and the night was far from over.
The heavy wooden doors of the mansion creaked open, revealing Henrik, a tall figure with a grim expression etched across his face. Bloodied and battered, he brought with him a paramedic team, their presence a flicker of hope amidst the chaos. The once-grand mansion now lay in shambles, evidence of the violent struggle that had taken place. The paramedics rushed to tend to the family, while Henrik's gaze fell upon the scene: shattered furniture, remnants of a fierce fight, and one captive—tied up and trembling, a stark contrast to the devastation surrounding him. Martin wasted no time; he quickly subdued the man and prepared to report him to the police.
"Look at that!" Davina's voice sliced through the air, sharp and accusatory. "Don't tell me you three are not enough now. This is too much for hiring another bodyguard; you all are lacking in training!" Her frustration spilled over, directed at the trio who had failed to protect her.
Jasmin crossed her arms, her scoff revealing her disdain for Davina's unreasonable tirade. "It's because you threatened someone that this happened! Don't turn this into a blame game against us."
Davina stepped closer, disappointment radiating from her like an electric current. "You had no right to blame me. You should take my mandatory training starting tomorrow. I want all of you to come to the company—pronto!"
Henrik, wincing from his injuries, interjected, "But… can't I rest despite my injuries?" His voice was a mix of concern for his own well-being and the chaos unfolding around him.
"You threatened that secretary, and you almost harmed Andy," Davina snapped back, her tone unforgiving. "Without me, she would have been in danger. You're just like this with Henry—useless parents."
In a swift motion, Davina slapped Jasmin, the sound echoing in the devastated room. Martin, already seething with anger, felt the urge to retaliate but restrained himself, focusing instead on his own minor injuries.
"It's funny that you're questioning my parenting skills," Davina continued, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "You're proving to me that I'm deserving of owning my brother's company."
"Stop being so desperate about that crap building and care about your family for once!" Jasmin shot back, her calmness slipping away. "Stop blaming your bodyguard!"
"Or if you care so much about your dead best friend, stop yapping and face the training," Davina retorted, her voice laced with venom.
Jasmin's lips curled into a sarcastic smirk. "Alright, I'll stop yapping if you ask Andy if she's alright instead of giving us sermons, right?"
Martin facepalmed, recognizing the futility of the argument. He knew that Jasmin was relentless, and this was no time for unprofessional bickering.
"I'm warning you," Jasmin said, her tone shifting to a more serious note. "This is all about the secretary's son, Tim Mortez."
With those words hanging in the air, Jasmin stormed out of the mansion, her anger fueling her steps as she ignored the wreckage within. Martin, however, understood the gravity of the situation. The chaos of the night was far from over, and he had a responsibility to ensure the safety of those he cared for. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to face the aftermath and the challenges that lay ahead.
The rhythmic crack of gunfire echoed through the Find-bodyguard training facility, a sharp, metallic staccato that rattled Martin's teeth. Beside him, Fabienne was a statue of lethal grace. She fired with a surgical precision, her groupings tight and centered in the target's head. Martin, conversely, was struggling. Every time the slide of his semi-automatic cycled back, a hot spike of pain flared in his shoulder, a lingering reminder of his recent failures.
He lowered his weapon, his breath coming in ragged hitches. He stepped back, holstered his sidearm, and grabbed a condensation-slicked bottle from the fridge. He drained half of it in one go, the cold water stinging his throat.
"Why do you keep pushing?" Fabienne asked, not looking away from her sights. Her voice was cool, devoid of the pity Martin hated. "You're trailing by twenty points. You're injured. Go home."
"Davina was breathing down my neck last night," Martin muttered, wiping his brow with his sleeve. "I didn't have a choice. Besides, I need a favor. I need you to help me set up a lunch date between Jasmin and Walter."
Fabienne finally lowered her gun, turning to him with a look of pure disbelief. She let out a sharp, cynical sigh. "Don't waste your time on Jasmin, Martin. I know exactly what you're trying to do."
"She needs to prioritize her family," Martin insisted, his voice rising with defensive heat. "This constant friction with Davina... it has to stop. She needs to step away from the work for a while. For Janina's sake, if nothing else."
"She has a purpose, Martin. She isn't just playing at this."
Martin shook his head, his jaw tightening. "She's doing it out of spite. It's an immature challenge to the status quo. She needs to think about the bigger picture."
Fabienne holstered her weapon and began to pack her gear. "If I were you, I'd stop chasing her. She doesn't like you, and she sure as hell doesn't trust you."
She walked away without a second glance. Martin watched her go, the sting of her words sharper than the wound in his shoulder. He knew what he had to do. He turned away from the range and marched toward the executive wing, stopping only when he reached Davina Meyer's door.
"What am I going to hear this time?" Davina asked before he even sat down. She was reclined in her leather chair, her eyes tracking him like a hawk.
"I'm going to excuse myself to deal with Jasmin," Martin said. "It's personal. I'm going to try to distract her, like we discussed."
Davina's expression soured. She slammed her hand onto the mahogany desk, the sound like a gunshot. "The distraction you failed at with Henrik? You couldn't even manage a simple task, and now you want more time?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Meyer," Martin said, bowing his head. "She's... consistent. Hard to move."
"That is your problem, not mine!" Davina hissed. "Henrik is out of his league; he needs to be focused on me. You? You do whatever it takes. I deserve this company, Martin. Not your delusional friend."
"I understand," Martin murmured. Davina waved him out with a dismissive flick of her wrist.
Back in the shadows of the hallway, Martin pulled out his phone. His fingers moved quickly, opening a secure, encrypted mail app. Using a burner account, he began drafting an urgent message to Florentin. He filled the text with fabricated complaints about Jasmin's conduct, professional lapses, and "instability"—signing it with a digital signature that looked just enough like an official internal report to cause chaos. He hit send, watching the loading bar finish with a grim sense of necessity. If he couldn't lead Jasmin away with a carrot, he would drive her out with the stick.
At home, the air was thick with tension as Walter observed Judith's distress. Her fingers trembled slightly on the edge of her wheelchair, a stark contrast to her usual composure. Walter had noticed the way she hadn't even attempted to wheel herself across the living room; it was a clear sign that something was deeply troubling her.
"Is there something wrong?" Walter asked, concern etching itself into his features. Judith let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping.
"There's a problem at Heinen Realty," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "They wanted to fire other employees, and I got fired today."
Walter's heart sank, disbelief flooding through him. "What? Really? How about me? Did I get fired too??"
Judith shook her head, her expression a mix of frustration and determination. "I don't know, but I think I need a better job. I have to provide well for my bodyguard and my daughters as well. I need to work harder."
Just then, Rafella, their neighbor and friend, overheard their conversation. With a determined gleam in her eye, she chimed in, "I suggest you both work where I used to work."
Curiosity piqued, Judith and Walter exchanged glances, uncertain of her suggestion. Rafella continued, "You can work at Find-Bodyguard Company!"
Walter's thoughts raced, his anxiety bubbling to the surface. "That's a horrible idea! Jasmin works there, and she'll think I lost my job! I don't want to be a bodyguard or just a janitor if that's what you're offering!"
Rafella laughed, her light-heartedness cutting through the tension. "What are you talking about? I'm planning to refer you to Davina. She's looking for an assistant manager and a social media manager. She wants to promote the company online. I guess it's okay for you to work from home, right?"
Both Judith and Walter paused, considering the opportunity. Judith's eyes lit up as she began to connect the dots. "Maybe that would be a better idea for me," she mused. "I could spend more time with my kids."
Walter nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. "Great! It's fantastic that you're helping us out. Thanks, Rafella."
"No problem at all," Rafella replied, her smile brightening the room. "No wonder Jasmin has become one of the top-class bodyguards; she works hard. I'm sure you both have the same character as her."
As they began to discuss the potential of this new path, Walter felt a renewed sense of hope. The future was uncertain, but with support from friends and family, perhaps they could navigate these changes together.