I Left My Husband After He Chose His Ex-Wife’s Child

Jasmine's POV

"The question is simple, Quentin. Your ex-wife's child or your wife's child. Which one do you love more?" The kidnapper's mouth curled. "You have ten seconds. Choose one to save. If you don't, I'll kill them both."

Vicky trembled so hard she could barely stand. She grabbed his sleeve and sobbed, "Quentin, Zoey is all I have left."

For the first time in years, I took his hand too. My voice cracked. "Quentin, if anything happens to Ella, I won't make it."

Unexpectedly, Quentin didn't hesitate this time. He pushed Vicky's hand away and instead gripped mine tightly.

He had picked me.

My heart fluttered just a bit. Maybe, deep down, our daughter still mattered to him.

Then, Quentin raised his head and spoke to the man. "Let my little girl go, or you'll regret it, Carl!"

But the man threw his head back and laughed. He sliced through my daughter's rope in a single stroke of the knife.

I lunged forward to catch her, but I was still a step too late.

She fell like a porcelain doll crashing onto the ground.

Amid the chaos, Quentin and his men seized the chance to catch the kidnapper. Then he rushed to save Zoey. He didn't even glance at me or my daughter. Instead, he held Vicky and Zoey, calming their fear.

Then, Quentin turned to me and explained, "I told you I'd protect you and keep my promises. I know Carl. He wouldn't let me off so easily. He just wanted to force me to reveal who I cared about most, then kill that person to make me suffer. I know how much Ella means to you, Jasmine. That's why I'd never let anything happen to Zoey."

My arms around my daughter trembled. Tears I couldn't hold back poured down my cheeks.

How ridiculous. I'd thought foolishly that he held me and our daughter in his heart.

Finally, as if recalling something, Quentin turned to look at me. Concern filled his face as he looked at the little girl barely breathing in my arms.

"Get Ella to the hospital immediately. Do whatever it takes. Save her."

Fortunately, our daughter was promptly taken to the hospital and survived.

During her stay, Quentin constantly stayed by her side. Vicky called him repeatedly, but he didn't answer.

The day our daughter was finally discharged happened to be the day our passports were ready.

Vicky called once more.

Just as Quentin was about to hang up, I stopped him. "It's fine here. Go see them."

He looked at me, caught off guard, as if he believed I had finally become more 'understanding.' Feeling relieved, he kissed my forehead and quickly left the ward. I then took my daughter's hand, grabbed the handle of our suitcase, and got into a black car.

Quentin had no idea. We were leaving him for good.