Chapter 456 Ethan's First Love Has Returned
Jasmine was still taken back by Ethan because Nolan had sold her out. Ethan's face was grim, and he kept glancing at Jasmine on the way home.
"From now on, you're coming straight home after school. No more staying late," Ethan said firmly.
Jasmine pouted and whispered, "I won't."
"Your protest is invalid." Ethan was furious, but not at Jasmine. The Wallace family must have a death wish; they dared to touch her.
Jasmine stayed silent, leaning against the car window, looking upset.
Ethan glanced at her, sighed, and relented. "Alright, you can stay at school, but you must call me immediately if anything happens."
'Don't call Nolan,' he added in his mind.
Jasmine nodded.
"You go home first; I have some matters to attend to. Wait for me at home. I've already taken care of things at the school."
Ethan stopped the car at their residence, and Jasmine got out, looking at him, hesitant to speak.
Ethan got out and hugged her to comfort her, then asked, "Were you scared today?"
Jasmine shook her head.
Ethan sighed, wishing he could keep her close all the time, but he knew he couldn't.
"Listen to me, go home," Ethan said, holding her hand as they entered the building.
Jasmine pushed him slightly and said nervously, "You go ahead, take care of your business. I'm fine."
She only got on the elevator after Ethan had left.
Jasmine was still distracted as she sat on the couch in the living room. She held her phone in silence for a long time before calling Connor.
"Finally, you remembered to call me," Connor said in a deep voice. "I thought now that you're the Cunningham family's daughter and Ethan's wife, you wouldn't need to worry anymore."
"You sent me a message today just to make me contact you, didn't you?" Jasmine said softly.
Right after Amelia's fight, Connor had sent her a message about Howard's full-scale attack on Ethan's new company, which was now clearly in a tough spot.
"You've been with Ethan for so long. You might have forgotten you came from the abyss. If Ethan disappears one day, you'll return to hell," Connor continued to provoke her.
Jasmine clutched her phone tightly, breathing heavily.
"Ethan knows Howard's weaknesses, and Howard wants him dead," Connor kept pushing. "This is just the beginning."
Jasmine's palms began to sweat as she took a deep breath. "What exactly do you want? I won't be used by you anymore. Even if Howard takes action, I can have my mother help Ethan."
"I've known Ethan since we were young. I know him as well as you do. I know how to quickly break his psychological defenses and make him lose everything," Connor said in a low, cold voice. "Moreover, the Sanders family and the Douglas family have decided to cooperate. The Cunningham family might not be able to protect itself."
"If I join forces with Howard, Ethan will be in great danger," Connor added.
"Connor, please, what do you want?" Jasmine's voice was anxious and tearful.
"Deborah has returned to the country. She loves Ethan deeply. She almost lost her life saving him back then and has been recuperating abroad all these years. No matter what, she was once Ethan's publicly acknowledged girlfriend, his first love. Now that she is back, you should return Ethan to her," Connor said.
Jasmine's eyes reddened. "Why? I won't."
Connor was silent for a long time before speaking again, his voice slightly hoarse. "This is the way the world works."
Then he hung up the phone.
Jasmine sat on the couch, gripping her phone tightly, her face drained of all color.
Give Ethan to Deborah? No way! Ethan wasn't an object to be given away.
For the first time, Jasmine harbored some dark thoughts. If she could eliminate all those who might affect her, things might get better.
At Connor's place.
Connor leaned back on a chaise lounge by the floor-to-ceiling window, drinking. He had just been discharged from the hospital, and his wounds hadn't fully healed. He seemed to be in a foul mood. Clearly, while treating Jasmine, he would bear all the negative emotions twice as much.
But he had no other choice. The only treatment method he could think of now was desensitization therapy.
It was to constantly provoke Jasmine and make her develop a will to survive.
She must not become overly dependent on one person or one thing. Otherwise, that would be Jasmine's weakness.
The phone rang, and Connor answered. It was a call from his subordinate.
"Sir, Deborah has returned to the country. She's already at the airport, and Owen's driver has gone to pick her up."
Deborah was back, and he could only use this way to remind Jasmine.
Deborah was the smartest woman Connor had ever met. She was not only intelligent but also deeply scheming and adept at disguising herself.
In Connor's view, if Jasmine didn't prepare well, she wouldn't stand a chance against Deborah.
Deborah was different from women like Annabelle, who had clear motives and thought themselves clever.
She was genuinely intelligent.
She understood men and knew exactly what they wanted, able to precisely grasp their minds.
Even someone as astute as Connor had once been ensnared by Deborah's wiles, unwittingly manipulated and nearly causing harm to Ethan. Because of that incident, Connor had always harbored resentment towards Deborah and guilt towards Ethan.
He looked down at the string on his wrist, pulling it up and then snapping it back down hard. He was a psychologist, trying to save Jasmine in his own way. But no one could come to save him. He was a patient too. A doctor who couldn't cure himself—what a tragic thing!
"Why do I smell alcohol?" The door was pushed open, and Tom walked in with bags, immediately catching the scent of alcohol.
Dropping his things, Tom rushed over to Connor like a school principal catching a truant student. "Great, you drank when I was not home. Do you know you can't take painkillers after drinking? Do you want to die from the pain in the middle of the night?"
Tom's words were harsh, but it was clear he was genuinely worried.
Connor was already a bit tipsy, his head in a dazed state. "Mind your own business, you're so noisy."
He frowned, feeling his patience wearing thin. He couldn't stand someone with Tom's personality—too annoying.
"I don't want to care about you. But I got paid." Tom was furious, snatching the wine glass from Connor's hand. "I'll cook for you, just wait here."
He poured Connor a cup of hot water and ran to the kitchen to prepare a meal. Tom was surprised that Connor didn't spray him with alcohol and disinfectant today.
Connor must be drunk.
When Tom finished cooking and came out, he saw Connor curled up on the carpet by the floor-to-ceiling window, fast asleep. Tom paused for a moment, scratching his head. After a bit of alcohol, Connor looked like a homeless vagrant. But with his striking looks, Connor'd surely be bullied if he ever became homeless. He was just too handsome.
"Don't leave me."
When Tom went over to wake Connor for dinner, it seemed like he was dreaming. He was curled up, repeatedly saying, "Don't leave me."
From childhood to adulthood, whether it was family or friends he relied on, they all seemed to eventually leave him, becoming distant and indifferent.
It seemed that someone like him was destined to be lonely. But he couldn't enjoy solitude.
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