Chapter 160: Late Regret
Owen Kennedy leaned back in his chair, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. "Did they really think it would work?" he muttered, swirling the liquor in his glass after reading the Kingsley’s announcement about the marriage.
But the smirk faded when his gaze lifted, landing on the woman standing silently before him.
Jasmine. His daughter.
"This all started because of your stupid ideology of love!" Owen barked, slamming his glass down. The crystal skidded and shattered against the floor, shards scattering near Jasmine’s feet.
She flinched, her lips trembling, but no words left her mouth.
"What did you gain from it, huh? Happiness?" His laughter rang hollow, bitter, mocking. "You had a life dripping in wealth, in security, and you threw it all away for love?" His eyes narrowed, voice slicing sharper. "And then what? You crawled back here after giving birth to that bastard daughter, whining that he couldn’t give you enough!"
She flinched again, her whole body trembling under his glare.
"I asked you to show your worth!" Owen’s voice thundered. "And yet you can’t even control your own daughter? How could you let her end up married to a Kingsley... my enemy’s blood?!"
"I—I really don’t know—" Jasmine stammered, her voice thin, barely holding together.
"What do you know then?!" Owen’s snarl cut her off, his eyes blazing with contempt. He sneered, spitting venom with every word. "I should’ve gotten rid of you the moment I learned you were a daughter. A daughter as a firstborn—useless!"
Jasmine’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Her hands twisted together in front of her as her father’s words pierced deeper.
Owen let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "And look at you now... forty-seven years old and still as witless as the day you were born. You had everything handed to you, yet you chose love, of all things? Did you really think it would last? Idiot." He leaned forward, his tone dripping with disdain. "Married young, pregnant right away, and you thought that made you special? Pathetic. You’re not clever enough to be a Kennedy. You never were."
Her knees weakened beneath her, the weight of decades pressing down, and for the first time in years, her composure threatened to crack.
Her lips quivered as she stared at the floor, her voice barely above a whisper. "At least... there was a time I was happy then..."
"Happy?" Owen’s voice dripped with scorn. "Did that happiness put food on your table? Did it give you power? Money? Or was it just another one of your pathetic illusions?"
"Dad..." Jasmine frowned, her voice unsteady. "My life with Thomas... it’s not that pathetic."
"Then why did you crawl back here, whining about how hard things were?" Owen’s words cut like knives, his disdain unrelenting.
Her lips trembled as her eyes glistened, and for a moment, she almost looked like a child again... small, cornered and fragile. "I just realized..." her voice wavered, "I was a really ungrateful brat. Thomas... he gave me love, a home, a family. But I... I was never enough for him. I complained, I blamed, I wanted more. I wasn’t a good wife. I wasn’t a good mother."
Her voice cracked as she wrapped her arms around herself, shaking. "Even when I had everything that really mattered, I didn’t see it. I ruined it with my own hands."
Owen scoffed, his eyes like steel. "Suddenly regret?" His laugh rang out, cruel and loud, echoing off the walls. "Too late for that. You were always dumb, always easy to exploit. That’s why I didn’t even care when you begged to marry that useless Sinclair. Let you run off, let you ruin yourself... it made no difference to me."
He leaned forward, sneering as he jabbed a finger in her direction. "And now? Now you sit here with tears in your eyes, whining about everything you lost? Save it, Jasmine. Regret doesn’t erase failure."
For the first time in her life, Jasmine’s eyes lifted, not with fear but defiance. She glared at Owen.
"Wah," he mocked, tilting his head. "You think I’m scared? Stop whining. You’re old! Get back everything you were supposed to gain when I arranged your marriage with Lancaster. You let it fall apart, and I lost everything. Fix that... only then will I even consider you worth my name. Only then can you crawl back into this family."
Jasmine was quiet for a few seconds, her breath shaky, her fists curling at her sides. Then, her lips parted, and the words slipped out in a whisper, trembling but certain. "I don’t think I want it anymore... I’m taking Thomas..."
Owen’s face darkened instantly. His hand shot to the cane by his chair, and in a burst of rage he hurled it at her. "Where do you think you’re going?!"
The cane struck her shoulder with a thud, the force sending her staggering back a step. She gasped, clutching the spot, but her eyes, red and wet, remained fixed on him, burning with something new.
"You and Thomas are not going anywhere," Owen said, his tone chilling, his stare like ice. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his empty hand curling into a fist as if itching to throw again. "Why? Do you think your daughter will take you back after everything you’ve done?"
Jasmine’s breath hitched. His words cut deeper than the cane’s strike, dragging up every failure she’d tried to bury. Her lips trembled as she whispered, "Daisy... She doesn’t need me. She’s doing well now, finding her own happiness... But Thomas..." Her voice broke. "Thomas still deserves a wife who tried."
Owen barked a merciless laugh. "Tried at what? Becoming a doctor and fixing the stroke you helped cause? Don’t be ridiculous, Jasmine. You’ll scrape together a few months and then crawl back here, begging for my forgiveness... crying like the fool you are. You’re nothing without me, and you’ll never be anything more."
"I still want to try..." Jasmine whispered, turning toward the door.
"Guard!" Owen’s voice cracked like a whip.
Her steps froze.
"Throw her into that room with that stiff stroke man," he sneered, his eyes narrowing on her. "She wants to play house at nearly a century old? Pathetic."