Chosen By My Mate's Father-in-law
Chapter 20: Running Late

Chapter 20: Chapter 20: Running Late

I yanked the scarf tighter around my neck, hoping it was enough to hide the hickeys Elliot had left behind. The bruises were still tender, and just brushing fabric over them made me wince. I bit down on the pain. I didn’t have time to fall apart. Not today.

I rushed up the long path to Gareth’s house, heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with my dream and everything to do with the mess reality kept shoving in my face. The guilt, the shame, the sting of Elliot’s words still clung to me like smoke.

“You thought rejecting me would end it?” he’d said last night, his voice low and cruel. “You’re tied to me, Jasmine. Every time he touches you, he’ll know you were mine first.”

Now I was here, on Gareth’s porch, forcing myself to push past it. ‘Focus.’

The butler spotted me the second I stepped through the front doors.

“Miss Jasmine,” he said briskly, walking over with a thick envelope. “You’re late.”

“I know. I’m sorry—”

He cut me off, handing over the envelope with a stiff nod. “These are Michelle’s assignments for the week. She’s behind in math, literature, and history. Don’t get too comfortable just because you made it through day one.”

I blinked at him, thrown off by his sudden coldness. “Uh... okay. Thanks. Is she already in the study?”

The butler shook his head, eyeing me in the way people do when they’ve already decided I was a lost cause. “She’s in her room. And no, she doesn’t want to come out.”

I swallowed and tried to smile, even though I felt like I’d just been slapped. “Got it. I’ll talk to her.”

His eyes narrowed. “They all start out confident, you know. Then they realize the girl’s not as sweet as she looks and quit by the end of the week.”

That explained a lot.

I didn’t let him see me flinch. Instead, I held my head high and walked past him with the envelope clutched tightly in my hands.

I reached Michelle’s bedroom door and gave it a soft knock. “Michelle? It’s me, Jasmine.”

No reply.

I knocked again, a little louder. “Hey... I know you’re probably not in the mood to study, but can we talk for a second?”

Silence.

I sighed, leaning my forehead against the door. “Listen, I get it. Trusting people sucks. And you don’t know me. But I’m not here to make your life harder. I’m here because I want to help.”

Still nothing. No creak of the bed. No footstep. Not even a fake cough to pretend she didn’t want to talk.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll wait here but I’m not giving up.”

I turned slowly, trying not to feel like I was being crushed. But I was. Emotionally, I was drowning.

I clutched the scarf at my neck and breathed through the rising burn in my throat. I kept thinking about Gareth—the way his voice had sounded in my dream. Safe. Warm.

His mark felt like love.

Elliot’s... felt like a curse.

As I leaned against the wall, my phone vibrated. A message.

Elliot: Don’t forget who owns you, Jasmine. Or should I drop by tonight to remind you?

I stared at the screen, stomach twisting. I saw red. This guy was a monster.

+++

Butler’s Jones POV

The butler stood at the bottom of the stairs, arms folded stiffly across his chest as he watched Jasmine retreat, her shoulders just a little too hunched, her walk just a little too unsure.

He frowned.

Elliot was right, he thought grimly. She doesn’t have what it takes.

He hadn’t planned on judging her so harshly. Honestly, when Mr. Laken hired her, the butler had hoped—for Michelle’s sake—that maybe this time would be different. Maybe the girl who looked smart might actually last longer than a week.

But that hope cracked the moment the butler welcomed Elliot into the study earlier that morning.

“I just thought you should know who you’re dealing with,” Elliot said in a low voice, leaning in slightly like he was sharing something confidential. “Look, I’m not here to badmouth anyone, but I’m telling you this because I’m worried about Michelle.”

The butler paused, narrowing his eyes. “What do you mean, Mr. Grayson?”

Elliot sighed, as if reluctant. “Jasmine Lowett might be a bad influence on her. I know she seems very charming and hard-working at first, but when I researched her background, I found there were a lot of other... issues.”

Butler Jones frowned. “If this is about her father’s imprisonment, I see no reason to worry. Children should not be punished for their parent’s sins.”

“Of course not, Butler Jones,” Elliot said cajolingly. “But I’m talking about something else. I found out that she has a learning disorder. She struggled for years with writing and comprehension. Her parents spent a fortune on private help just to keep her afloat, but not many know about it. I only found out because my family has the necessary connections.”

The butler frowned faintly. “But that isn’t a cause for concern. Wouldn’t her good results be a testament to her hard work?”

Elliot paused and shook his head sadly. “I thought so too, but I asked around. Her classmates mentioned they noticed certain... oddities.”

“Like?”

“Like how her grades would suddenly shoot up with no good reason. She’d miss study sessions and suddenly score higher than people who’d been working all semester.”

“You think she was cheating?” Butler Jones asked, horrified.

Elliot held up a hand. “I hope not, for Michelle’s sake. But I cannot rule out that possibility. Some of her classmates claim they have seen her coming out of their professors’ cars at odd hours.”

The butler stiffened, understanding the implications in his words.

“I’m not trying to ruin her,” Elliot added quickly. “I’m just concerned. For Michelle. She’s young and curious, and Jasmine is the first person she has liked in a long time. I don’t want her to be led astray.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I just think it’s worth keeping an eye on,” Elliot finished, his voice quiet. “For Michelle’s sake.”

The butler said nothing, but the hesitation in his eyes said enough.

The visit ended soon after, and Butler Jones mulled over Elliot’s words, wondering if he was telling the truth.

Now, watching her stand awkwardly in the hallway, glancing up the stairs where Michelle still refused to open the door, the butler couldn’t shake the image Elliot had painted. Perhaps her new scarf was hiding the evidence of illicit affairs.

He cleared his throat and stepped into the hall. “She refused to see you?”

Jasmine turned, startled. “Yeah. I knocked. Waited. Tried again. I think she’s just... not in the mood.”

He raised a brow. “Already making excuses?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing.

He handed her a second folder, this one slimmer. “This is a sample essay she needs help editing. Think you can handle it?”

Jasmine took it and gave a small nod, but the hesitation didn’t go unnoticed.

“I hope you’re not expecting leniency just because the Alpha’s fond of you,” the butler added sharply. “Michelle needs discipline. She needs someone who sets an example.”

Jasmine’s mouth tightened. “I’m not here for favors. I’m here to help her.”

The butler didn’t reply. He simply turned and walked away, his mind still echoing with Elliot’s earlier words.

Upstairs, Michelle’s bedroom door remained closed.

+++

Jasmine’s POV

I stood outside Michelle’s door for what felt like forever.

I tried knocking. I tried talking. Nothing. Not a single sound from the other side. I crossed my arms and stared at the doorknob like I could will it to open.

“Michelle, come on,” I said for the fifth time. “I’m seriously not in the mood to play this game. I already have a headache. Let me in.”

Silence.

I exhaled through my nose and rested my forehead against the door.

Why did she suddenly shut me out like this? Yesterday, she was laughing and actually talking to me. I thought we were getting somewhere. Was it something I said? Did Gareth talk to her about me? Did Elliot—?

My jaw clenched.

I knew that snake had something to do with this.

“Fine,” I muttered, straightening up. “Have it your way.”

I took two steps back.

Then kicked the door.

Hard.

It flew open with a loud crack, smacking into the wall. The butler came rushing down the hall just as I stepped inside. “Miss Jasmine!” he cried, horrified. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Teaching her not to slam doors in people’s faces,” I shot back, not even bothering to hide my frustration. “And maybe check what she’s actually doing inside.”

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