From Prison to His Perfect Regret
I sacrificed five years of my freedom to save my husband' s billion-dollar empire.
I walked out of prison expecting gratitude, but instead, I found his assistant wearing my life like a second skin.
And when his company faced a new crisis, he didn't look to me for support-he looked at me as the prime suspect.
Jasper thought a luxury suite at The Plaza could erase five years of silence.
He claimed he was "protecting" me, while Candice, the woman who orchestrated my fall, blocked my letters and managed his heart.
But the moment his laptop was wiped, his mask of devotion crumbled.
He accused me of sabotage instantly, blind to the real enemy standing right beside him.
I didn't argue. I just walked away.
He screamed that I' d be destitute without him, that I was throwing my life away for a "nobody."
Instead, I found Cohen, the inmate who had protected me inside when Jasper abandoned me.
Months later, Jasper called, sobbing. He' d finally found the security footage proving Candice' s guilt.
"I'll wire you ten million dollars," he begged, his voice breaking. "I'll even give Cohen a construction job. Just come home."
I looked at Cohen, who was gently painting a crib for our unborn child in our warm, safe home.
"Keep your money, Jasper," I said.
"We're already taken care of."
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Chapter 3
Ashlie POV:
I stared at the city lights, my mind drifting back to a time when "happy" wasn't a question mark but a constant state of being. The girl who used to dream of perfect romantic gestures, the one who believed in grand declarations of love, had died a slow, agonizing death behind bars. I' d walked into prison a naive marketing director, ready to sacrifice everything for the man I loved. I' d walked out a hardened survivor.
Jasper returned, a triumphant grin on his face, a silver cloche in his hand. He placed it carefully before me, then lifted the lid with a flourish. A perfectly seared steak, glistening with juices, sat on the plate, surrounded by roasted vegetables. The aroma was rich, tempting, a stark contrast to the bland, institutional smells I' d grown accustomed to.
"Your favorite, Ashlie," he said, his eyes shining with expectation. "Just like our first anniversary. Remember? You said it was the best meal you'd ever had."
I picked up my fork, the heavy silver feeling foreign in my hand. He watched me, his breath held, waiting for my reaction. For a compliment. For a smile. For a sign that his grand gesture had worked its magic.
I cut into the steak, brought a piece to my mouth. It tasted… like steak. Rich, flavorful, expertly cooked. Everything a steak should be.
He leaned forward, anticipation radiating from him. "Well? Is it good?"
I met his gaze, my eyes devoid of warmth. "It tastes terrible, Jasper."
His smile collapsed. His face drained of color. "Terrible? But... I followed the recipe exactly. I used the best ingredients. I even got that special truffle butter you liked."
"It's not the cooking, Jasper," I said, my voice flat. "It's the chef. The man who made it. The man who let me rot in a cell for five years, while he enjoyed his steaks and his freedom."
His jaw dropped. He looked like I had slapped him across the face. "Ashlie... that's not fair."
"Fair?" I laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "You want to talk about fair, Jasper? Was it fair when you convinced me to take the fall for your embezzlement? Was it fair when you promised it would be a short sentence, a mere formality, and then let me languish there while you rebuilt your empire?"
His eyes welled up, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek. "I suffered too, Ashlie! Don't you think I was lonely? Don't you think it killed me to know you were in there? I worked himself to the bone, trying to keep our company afloat, trying to protect your reputation!"
"Lonely?" I scoffed. "You were lonely, Jasper? While I was counting down every minute of every day? While I was fighting off women who thought a 'newbie' was easy prey? While I was learning to eat slop, just to survive?"
He looked horrified. "Ashlie, no. I never imagined... Candice told me you were in a nice facility, that you were being taken care of."
"Candice again," I muttered, shaking my head. "Always Candice, spinning her pretty lies, making sure you stayed comfortable in your ignorance."
Just then, as if on cue, a soft knock echoed at the door. Jasper looked relieved, snatching the opportunity to escape my accusatory gaze. "Come in!"
The door opened, and Candice Acevedo swept into the suite. She was a vision in a sleek, emerald green designer dress that clung to her curves, her hair perfectly coiffed, her makeup impeccable. She looked like she had just stepped off a magazine cover, not from a day at the office.
"Jasper, darling, I just had to make sure everything was alright," she cooed, her eyes darting to me, a flicker of something I couldn't quite place-triumph? -in their depths. "I heard you were cooking. How sweet of you."
She moved past me as if I were invisible, gliding straight to Jasper. She fixed his tie, even though it was already perfectly straight, her fingers lingering on his lapel. She picked up his half-empty glass of sparkling water, took a sip, then offered it back to him. It was a gesture so intimate, so possessive, it screamed volumes without a single word.
Jasper, for his part, seemed flustered. "Candice! What are you doing here? I thought I told you no interruptions tonight." His voice was weak, a mere whisper of authority. He didn't pull away from her touch.
Candice pouted, a practiced, saccharine expression. "Oh, Jasper, don't be cross. I was just so worried about you. And I wanted to welcome Ashlie back, of course." She turned to me, her smile dazzling, completely fake. "Ashlie, darling! It's been too long. I'm so, so sorry about all those missed calls. My schedule has been absolutely insane since you left. Work overload, you know how it is. It was impossible to keep track of everything."
Her apology was as transparent as Saran wrap. I just watched her, my expression carefully neutral.
"I just took over your marketing duties, and then Jasper's personal affairs, and then the IPO... it was just too much for one person!" She sighed dramatically, then patted Jasper's arm. "But we got through it, didn't we, sweetie? All those late nights, just you and me, keeping the ship afloat."
She picked up a breadstick from the table and nibbled on it delicately, her eyes fixed on me. "Oh, it was so hard on Jasper, Ashlie. Absolutely devastated. I had to pick him up from bars so many times, late at night, because he was just so heartbroken. He'd just sit there, nursing a drink, staring into space, saying 'My poor Ashlie, my poor Ashlie.'"
Her words were a subtle dagger, twisting in the wound. She wasn't just apologizing; she was drawing a clear line between us, highlighting her indispensable role in Jasper's life during my absence. She was saying, I was here. I was his wife. You were gone.
"Really, Candice?" I asked, my voice dangerously soft. "You had to pick him up from bars? How... dedicated of you."
She beamed, mistaking my sarcasm for genuine appreciation. "Oh, I was! Someone had to look after him. He was losing his mind with grief. I practically lived at the office, making sure he ate, making sure he slept. He couldn't function without me." Her chest puffed out subtly, a peacock displaying its feathers.
"So you were playing wife, then," I stated, letting the words hang in the air.
Candice's fake smile faltered. Jasper choked on his water. The temperature in the room plummeted, colder than the snow falling outside. I watched her, the mask of innocence slipping, revealing the sharp, cunning woman beneath. And I knew, with absolute certainty, that she was just getting started.