Chapter 5

"God forbid, my daughter would never cheat on you. My daughter loves you so much, she told me so herself. Maybe you’ve been so busy with work lately that you don’t give her attention anymore. It might be a tantrum she’s throwing to get more of your attention. I'm sorry for the stress my daughter is putting you through. On behalf of her, I'm so sorry," her mom pleaded.

Ludale almost laughed at that blatant lie. He might be so busy with work but he always had time to play around with his plaything, but her dumb parents didn’t need to know that."I'll keep searching for her now. I just hope to find her," Ludale said before hanging up.

"Fools," he cursed as soon as the call was cut.

"They have no idea what their daughter was going through. They only care about money. Every time they call, it's always about money. Money, money, and more money," he snorted, "That's why Jasamina will never be able to escape my grasp. She's mine, whether she likes it or not," he added, taking out a cigarette and lighting it up with a groan.

On the other hand, Matthew Rutherford sat in the living room with his wife, Doreen, as they discussed the recent events concerning their daughter, Jasamina. Doreen stood with her arms folded, and her face contorted with anger and frustration as she lamented, "What in heaven's name is wrong with Jasmine?"

Matthew was concerned about their daughter safety, but he didn’t try to say that out loud. He replied, "I don't know, my love. Always running away? She's been acting strange lately."

Doreen hissed with anger, "Strange? She's been downright ungrateful! Does she have any idea how many women would kill to be in her position? She's married to a wealthy, kind, caring, loving man, and yet she's still unhappy." Her narrowed eyes revealed her fury as she spoke.

Matthew nodded in agreement, "You're right, my dear. I just hope after all this, Ludale doesn't get mad at us and deprive us of the allowances or take away our house."

Doreen's face contorted with anger as she snapped back, "If he does, Jasamina would beg him. I don't care if she goes down on her knees, if she has to be his slave, I don't care what she does, but no matter what, she must go back to him!" Her voice was raised, and her words seemed to echo in the room.

Matthew decided to intervene before the situation escalated any further. Calmly, he touched her shoulder and assured her, "Let's not lose our cool. I'm going to call my private investigator right now. He's the best, and before the end of the week, Jasamina would be found, and I promise you dear, she'll be back in her husband's house. Either willingly or by force."

Doreen let out a sigh of relief and thanked him, "Thank you so much, dear. That childish girl doesn't know that marriage is for better or for worse." She sighed, looking a little calmer.

As Matthew dialed the private investigator's number, he couldn't help but imagine what the hell was wrong wit their daughter. He was worried about the way she would be faring out there, but at the same time, he was mad at her.

Matthew's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the rain tapping against the window pane. The weather outside seemed to reflect the turmoil within their family. The room was dimly lit, and the flicker of the fire cast shadows on the walls.

Doreen paced around the room, her mind racing with all the possible outcomes of their current situation. She stopped suddenly, her eyes flashing with anger, "I mean if word gets out, what would our friends say? That we couldn't train our daughter properly? What's wrong with that girl after everything I've done for her, she repays me with this? I swear to God when we find Jasamina...." She trailed off, her voice choked with emotion.

Matthew put his arm around her, "We'll find her, my love. Everything will be okay."

The private investigator picked up on the second ring. “I have a job for you,” Matthew stated without preamble.

.

TANNER

When I saved her from those men, I should have expected that she would ask personal questions that bothered on off-limits territory. Which was why it was always safer to mind my own business and stay out of it. The thought of being sober made my stomach churn.

I looked down at my clothes and realized that my white shirt had turned gray. When was the last time I even changed clothes?

It didn't matter, I thought to myself. I would get her some food, give her some advice on where to find a job, and then leave as soon as possible. I needed to be drunk to avoid thinking, because thinking meant remembering and remembering meant trouble.

Twenty minutes later, I returned with the food and opened the door to her apartment. The child was asleep on one side of the bed, but the girl's eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily and sweating profusely. It was clear that she was sick, and sick enough to concern me.