How To Lose Your Billionaire Alpha Husband In 365 Days (Or Less)!-Chapter 48: Not a Distant Memory...

JASMINE’S POV

I didn’t go home.

Not yet.

Instead, I returned to my office at Heart Enterprises, gripping the USB Vale had given me like it was either going to save me—or set me on fire.

He said it had answers. About my parents. About what really happened. About me.

I didn’t trust him.

But I trusted the fear in his voice when he said, "You don’t want to know what’s buried in your bloodline."

And even more than that... I wanted to know anyway.

I arrived at Heart Enterprises just past lunchtime.

Not fashionably late. Not power-move late. Just... the kind of late where everyone already knows you’ve been dragged through the tabloids and are wondering whether they’ll still have a job by sunset.

The elevator ride up was silent. When the doors opened onto the executive floor, conversations stopped. Eyes flicked toward me. And then just as quickly, away.

Not one person met my gaze.

Even my assistant, Lisa, who usually greeted me with coffee and commentary, had her head bowed, mumbling something about a postponed call.

I didn’t blame them. Not after the headlines.

I walked straight to my office and locked the door behind me.

The USB Vale gave me burned in my pocket like it held a nuclear warhead instead of "family answers."

I dropped my purse, slipped into my chair, and plugged the drive into my laptop.

Encrypted folder. Of course.

Password protected. No clues. No labels.

I tried the obvious.

My name. Jasmine.

Access denied.

My mother’s name. Clara.

Nope.

My father’s name. Graham.

Still no.

My full name before I got married. Jasmine Aria Heart.

Nada.

I leaned back, frustrated.

Vale said this would explain everything. That my father had kept this from the world, even from him. So why the hell wouldn’t he tell me the password?

Unless...

My fingers hovered over my phone. I hit call.

He picked up on the third ring, voice far too calm for someone who dropped a bombshell on me just hours ago.

"Ah, Jasmine. Curious already?"

"What’s the password?" I asked, skipping the pleasantries.

He chuckled. "I haven’t the faintest idea."

"You’re joking."

"I shamelessly admit to trying everything I could over the years," he said. "Your name. Your parents’ names. Your birthday. Your mother’s. Nothing."

"Then how the hell am I supposed to open it?"

"Your father told me..." His voice dropped a note. "That the answer would come to you when you needed it. That only you would understand."

I stared at the screen. "That’s cryptic as hell."

"You’re his daughter. You’ll figure it out."

Then, he hung up.

I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair, staring at the screen like it would blink open on its own.

Only I could unlock it? What the hell does that even mean?

I was deep in thought when the office door swung open without a knock.

Looking up, I was surprised to see Alex walking in.

He walked in confidently, as if he owned the place, one hand casually tucked in his pocket. His suit was perfectly tailored, and there was that familiar mix of charm and arrogance shining in his eyes.

I didn’t bother hiding my exhaustion. "Didn’t anyone teach you how to knock?"

"Didn’t anyone teach you how to protect a company?" he replied smoothly, glancing toward my laptop. "I hear the press has their knives out."

"And you’re here to gloat or add another to my back?"

"Neither," he said, walking further inside. "I’m here to help."

I stared. "Like hell you are."

"I’m serious." He leaned against the edge of my desk. "I know this place. These people. You’re a mess right now, publicly. One wrong word, one bad move, and they’ll gut you."

"I’m aware."

"I’m offering to smooth things over. Talk to key investors. Push a few narratives. You’ll come out of this bruised but not broken."

I narrowed my eyes. "And what do you get in return?"

He smirked. "Let’s call it... rekindling our engagement."

The words hit like acid.

"You’re out of your mind."

He shrugged. "You’re in trouble. I’m the only one in this company who still knows the game."

"I have people. I have Aiden."

His jaw twitched. "The billion-dollar CEO? Please. He’s only testing you with all of these... trying to see if you can handle it or not. And when the next scandal hits, because it will, trust me, he’ll be cutting you off."

"You always did love betting against me," I said coolly.

"I never wanted to," he said, voice dipping. "You were supposed to be mine, Jasmine. You were mine."

I stood. "Correction—you had access. Not ownership. That ended the day I realised you only loved power, not me."

His eyes darkened. "You’ll regret this."

"No," I said. "But you might."

That’s when the door opened again, and Aiden stepped in like he had been summoned by the tension alone.

The moment he saw Alex, something changed in him. He straightened up, his gaze became intense. It was clear his wolf instincts were just beneath the surface, ready to emerge.

"I thought I smelled something foul," Aiden said.

Alex chuckled, standing straighter. "Frost. Still babysitting?"

"Still removing pests."

They stared each other down, the space between them crackling.

"Don’t you have a board to manage?" Alex sneered. "Or is being a PR puppet more fulfilling?"

"I go where my wife needs me."

Alex looked at me. "For now."

Before Aiden could move, I stepped between them. "Alex was just leaving."

Alex held my gaze a second longer than necessary. Then he smiled tightly. "Be careful, Jasmine. When the truth starts pouring out, some people drown."

He walked out without a word.

The door shut.

Silence.

Aiden exhaled, jaw still tense. "I don’t like him."

"Join the club," I muttered.

A beat passed.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, walking back to my chair. "Just... thinking."

I hesitated, then gestured toward the laptop.

"Vale gave me this. Said it’s from my father. I tried every name I could think of. Nothing worked."

"May I?" he asked.

I nodded. He came around the desk and leaned in beside me, shoulder brushing mine. The warmth was grounding.

"What did your dad say about it?"

"He didn’t say anything to me. Just told Vale I’d know the answer when I needed it."

"Okay," Aiden said thoughtfully. "Let’s try some things from your childhood, they might help us understand."

"I barely remembered what I had for breakfast last week."

"Well, how about memories of your parents when they were still alive? Childhood stuff with them? Toys, pets, games, they got for you?"

I blinked.

"Pets."

A memory surfaced. Me, six years old, wrapped in a big yellow raincoat, crying because my dad said I couldn’t sleep with my dog in my bed.

"You have to understand, Jazz," he’d said, kneeling to my height. "Atlas isn’t just a dog. He’s your guard. He was born to protect you. You and everything that belongs to you."

Atlas.

My first dog. A black mutt with golden eyes that never left my side.

I turned back to the screen and typed it:

Atlas.

Click.

The folder opened.

I gasped.

Inside: dozens of files. A folder labeled "Lunar Child." One marked "Emergency Protocol." Another called simply "Jasmine."

I clicked on the first: "Lunar Child."

My heart kicked.

I clicked it open.

There were a few emails—old, grainy scans of printed correspondence between my father and a contact labeled only as "E.C."

"The lunar cycle aligns in November. She’s already showing signs. We have to prepare the seal."

"They’ll come for her if they find out."

"Plane tickets are booked. We need to get her somewhere safe. You know what to do."

I blinked, re-reading the words until they stopped making sense.

Plane tickets. Lunar cycle. Showing signs of what? The seal?

I scrolled down.

A series of video files. All untitled. Just timestamps.

My finger hovered over the first one and clicked.

And it hit me like a wave.

The footage was grainy, but it felt so real. There was my mother, lying in a hospital bed, about to give birth. I could hear her screams—intense and powerful—while my father’s voice comforted her, encouraging her to keep going.

A newborn’s cry. The screen flickered, and I caught the child’s eyes for one sharp second.

Glowing.

Not brown. Not green.

But gold. Like fire.

Like Aiden’s.

I gasped.

Next file—me as a toddler, maybe three. I was laughing, chasing fireflies barefoot through a grassy backyard. Then I turned and looked at whoever was filming.

And my eyes flashed gold again.

By now, I had no idea what to think anymore. Aiden was still beside me, but even he said nothing.

I then clicked on the final video. It was my mother, sitting in a chair and speaking directly into the camera as if she were making a confession.

I had no idea what to feel as I stared at the screen.

It was her.

My mother.

Not a photo. Not a distant memory.

Her.

She looked younger than I remembered—calmer, softer, and impossibly beautiful in a way only real people are before time and tragedy turn them into myths.

Her dark curls framed her face, eyes like warm amber, and there was a sadness tugging at the corner of her lips even though she was trying to smile.

A part of me froze—just sat there, unable to blink.

It had been so long since I’d seen her face in motion, her expressions, the way her brows pinched when she was thinking, or how she tilted her head slightly before speaking like she was still editing her words for gentleness.

I swallowed hard.

I missed her.

More than I ever let myself admit.

My thumb hovered over the play button, but I hesitated. I didn’t know what I was about to hear, and a part of me didn’t want to know.

But the other part, the one that had fought her way through boardrooms and betrayals, needed it.

I pressed play.

She took a breath, then spoke. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"If you’re watching this, Jazz... that means we’re probably gone."