Chapter 83 Cold-Blooded Terrence
Bianca knew Blair wouldn't dare make a move.
As long as Terrence stood on Bianca's side, Blair was already cornered, her wings clipped. If Blair truly had the courage she liked to pretend she possessed, she would have made her mark long ago instead of wasting years clawing for scraps.
A slow, deliberate smile tugged at Bianca's lips—cold, certain, and edged with contempt. She had wagered on Blair's cowardice… and she had won.
Blair's jaw tightened until the tendons stood out, her eyes burning with humiliation she couldn't hide. But she didn't step forward. She swallowed her rage like poison, choking it down until her throat burned.
"What are you all standing here for?" Blair snapped, turning her venom on her own followers. "Do you want to be caught and hauled in for a disciplinary report?"
Her girls shuffled, heads bowed, teeth grinding, their glares cutting toward Bianca like knives they didn't dare use. Whatever resentment they carried had to be swallowed whole.
Moments later, the shaded path was empty except for Bianca and Jasmine.
Jasmine stared at the space where Blair and her crew had been, her mind catching up to the reality of what had just happened. Then the dam broke. A raw, aching sob tore from her throat, her voice shaking with the weight of days—weeks—of humiliation.
Like a fledgling seeking shelter, she threw herself against Bianca's chest. "Bianca… Blair keeps bringing people to corner me. She spreads lies in class, says I'm some filthy country girl, says I smell like a pigsty. I bathe every day, I scrub until my skin stings. I'm not dirty."
Her tear-streaked face lifted, eyes wary as if afraid Bianca might recoil from her disheveled state. Bianca's hand came up, fingers threading through Jasmine's hair in a slow, soothing motion.
"You didn't tell Glenn?" Bianca asked, her voice low but steady.
Jasmine blinked, realizing who Bianca meant, and her sobs grew harsher. "I told Uncle… he said Blair would never do such a thing. He told me not to make trouble, told me to get along with her. But… I try, Bianca. I try to be civil, but she hates me. She says I'm disgusting, says I smell. I bathe every day, Bianca. I'm not dirty, right?"
Those tear-filled eyes locked on hers, and Bianca found herself unable to deliver any harsh truth. Because she knew Jasmine wasn't dirty—not in any way that mattered.
"You're not dirty," Bianca said firmly. "You're clean. You're fine."
Jasmine buried her face deeper against Bianca's chest, her sobs shaking them both.
They ended up on a weathered wooden bench by the artificial lake. Jasmine's head hung low, the sadness still pressing down on her shoulders.
Her voice was small when she spoke again. "Bianca… maybe I'm not meant for life in the city. Maybe I'm supposed to stay in the countryside forever. Here, I can't eat well, I can't sleep well, my grades have dropped so badly. Every time I see my name near the bottom of the rankings, I feel crushed. I want to change, but I can't."
She looked wilted, like a flower left too long in the shade, unable to lift its stem toward the sun.
Bianca's hand moved in slow circles on her back, her tone gentle but unyielding. "Don't doubt yourself. The Jasmine I remember was strong, optimistic. You have to believe in yourself, follow what you know is right, and ignore the noise from people who want to drag you down."
Jasmine's shoulders straightened a fraction. She nodded hard. "You're right. If they look down on me, I'll prove them wrong. I'll build something so big they can't ignore it."
Her smile was faint but real, her eyes curving as she looked at Bianca. "I didn't even know you were studying here. If I had, I'd have found you sooner. We haven't seen each other in so long."
"I should have reached out," Bianca admitted, guilt tightening her chest. "If I'd known you were here, I'd never have let Blair get away with this."
What she'd witnessed was bad enough, but Bianca knew Blair's cruelty didn't stop when eyes were on her. Glenn's favoritism toward Blair meant Jasmine's complaints would never be taken seriously. Bianca hadn't expected Glenn's indifference to be so complete—turning a blind eye to his own family's suffering, letting Blair run unchecked.
It was the same rot Bianca had seen before: the quiet disdain for relatives from the countryside, the unspoken belief they were lesser.
"I didn't want to trouble you," Jasmine said softly, her head lowering. "I know Uncle doesn't care for you. I didn't want to make things worse between you."
Her hair fell forward, hiding her face, but Bianca could still see the weight in her posture—the uncertainty, the exhaustion. Jasmine didn't know if she could keep fighting Blair. This time, Bianca had been there. Next time? What if Bianca wasn't? She didn't want to be a burden, didn't want to spark more conflict.
The memory of her classmates' sneers stabbed at her chest, each look of disdain a fresh wound. She told herself she was being strong for Bianca's sake, but deep down, she knew she was already breaking.
Bianca saw it—the way Jasmine's fleeting optimism crumbled, leaving only raw vulnerability. Whatever had driven Jasmine to take her own life before wasn't something that could be healed with a few kind words. The damage ran deeper than anyone wanted to admit.
But this time, Bianca would not let it happen. She would walk Jasmine out of the shadows, back into the sunlight. She would see her smile again.
She was about to speak when the vibration in her pocket cut through the moment. Pulling out her phone, she saw the call was from the apartment's housekeeper. The reminder hit her like a jolt—she had forgotten something important.
A glance at the time made her curse under her breath. She answered quickly, already pulling Jasmine to her feet. "I got held up. I'll be back right away."
Ending the call, Bianca looked at Jasmine with a faint smirk. "I've been so caught up talking to you, I almost forgot about my lover."
"Lover?" Jasmine tilted her head, then stiffened as the memory surfaced. Bianca had a fiancé. And not just any fiancé—the head of the Anderson family.
The rumors came back in a rush: cold-blooded, ruthless, a man who destroyed lives without blinking. Families torn apart, futures burned to ash. Those unlucky enough to cross him never lived past thirty. His power was absolute, his reach suffocating. And no one could stop him.