The Abandoned Wife's Second Chance (Scarlett and Jasper) novel Chapter 174

Chapter 174

(Jasper’s POV)

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At that moment, Virginia moves, grabbing Scarlett’s arm mid–fall. The impact nearly pulls Virginia over too, but she holds on, both of them dangling over the edge.

“Help them!” James is sobbing now, still fighting his restraints. “Please, help them!”

Morgan just watches, that cold smile still on her face.

I’m fighting the men holding me, throwing elbows, trying to break free. One of them punches me in the stomach and I double over, gasping.

Through the pain and the panic, something clicks in my brain. Something about Morgan’s face, the way she moves, the sharp angles of her features.

I know her.

The memory surfaces slowly, like something dragged from deep water. A woman coming to our house when I was six, maybe seven. Always asking for my father, always crying when he

wasn’t there.

My mother’s face when she saw her. The way Mom would close the door gently but firmly, telling the woman to go away, that he didn’t want to see her.

The woman kept coming back. Week after week, month after month. Until the day my mother

died.

“You,” I gasp, still trying to catch my breath. “You used to come to our house.”

Morgan’s head snaps toward me, her eyes narrowing.

“You were my father’s mistress.”

The words hang in the air like poison.

Morgan’s face twists with rage. “Mistress? Is that what you think I was?”

“You came looking for him. Every week. My mother-” My voice breaks. “My mother died because of you. Because he betrayed her with you.”

“Your father,” Morgan spits the words, “was a liar and a snake. He told me he loved me. That he’d leave his wife. He got what he wanted from me–my body, my trust–and then he threw me away like garbage.”

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She stalks toward me, and the men holding me tighten their grip.

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“I came to your house begging him to acknowledge me. To give me some dignity, some legitimacy. But he hid behind your mother’s skirts like a coward. And when I finally gave up, when I finally accepted that he’d used me, I swore I’d make him pay.”

“He’s dead,” I say. “My father’s been dead for seven years.”

“I know.” Her smile is vicious. “I made sure of it. That car accident that killed him? Not an

accident. And watching you get dumped at that orphanage, alone and broken–that was just the beginning of my revenge.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. “You killed my father?”

“I took everything from him. His life, his son, his legacy. My current business? It’s his. I stole it. Just like James Stone took everything from my father.” She gestures between us. “So my revenge today isn’t just about James. It’s about you too, Jasper Blake. For your father’s betrayal. For all the years I spent waiting for him to choose me. For making me feel

worthless.”

“I was a child-”

“And I don’t care!” She screams it, spit flying from her mouth. “You’re his blood. His legacy. And I’m going to destroy you the same way he destroyed me. The same way James destroyed my family.”

She turns back to where Scarlett and Virginia are still hanging from the railing, Virginia’s face

red with effort as she holds on to Scarlett.

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” Morgan says, her voice calm again. Terrifyingly calm. “James gets to watch both his daughters fall. Jasper gets to watch his wife die. And then, when you’re both drowning in grief, I’ll end it. Quick and clean.”

“You’re insane,” I say.

“No.” She looks at me, and her eyes are completely empty. “I’m just evening the score.”

Virginia’s fingers are slipping. I can see it from here–the way her grip on Scarlett is weakening, how her whole body is shaking with the strain.

“Please,” Virginia gasps, looking at Morgan. “Please, you said you loved me. You said I was your daughter. If any of that was true, if even one moment between us was real–please help

us.”

Morgan considers this for a long moment.

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Then she says, “No.”

And she raises the gun, pointing it at Virginia’s hand where it grips the railing.

“Time’s up.”

(Virginia’s POV)

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Morgan isn’t my mother. She never was. The woman whose approval I’ve been striving to get, the one who made me feel like I finally belonged somewhere–she had been using me. Playing me like a puppet.

And James and Blair…

Oh God.

They’re my real parents. The people I’ve spent years hating, resenting, blaming for every bad thing in my life. They didn’t ruin my life. They didn’t force Morgan to abandon me. I was stolen from them. Ripped away when I was barely a day old.

The room spins. I can’t breathe. Can’t think.

All those times I sabotaged Scarlett’s marriage. All those panic attacks I faked to get Jasper’s attention. All those moments I spent destroying their happiness because I thought they deserved it.

But they didn’t deserve it. None of them did.

I did this. I brought Morgan into their lives. I helped her torture them. I’m the reason James is beaten and bloody, the reason Scarlett’s tied up and terrified, the reason we’re all going to die.

“No,” I whisper, the word ripping from my throat. “No, no, no…”

Morgan glances at me, and there’s nothing in her eyes. No love, no regret. Nothing. Like I’m just another tool she used and discarded.

“Did you ever care about me at all?” My voice breaks on every word. “Even a little?”

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