Married to The Ice King: Pampered Princess' Survival Guide-Chapter 188: Let’s End This

"Master..." Owen’s bodyguard called him as he rested his head on top of the sofa with his eyes closed, "Your daughter come..."

Silence. No answer from him.

"Master?" The bodyguard called again.

"Let her in..." His low voice echoed through the room.

The door creaked open, and Jasmine stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the thick curtains drawn to keep the afternoon sun away. The faint scent of cigar smoke lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Owen Kennedy sat on the grand leather sofa, his grey hair slicked back, his tailored suit immaculate as always. Even in age, there was something dangerously composed about him, like a predator conserving its energy. His eyes remained closed, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest.

"You’ve finally decided to show up," he said without opening his eyes.

Jasmine swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly as she clasped them in front of her. "I had to," she said quietly. "We need to talk."

That made him open his eyes. The steel in them hadn’t dulled with time. "Talk?" He let out a low chuckle. "What else can we talk about? You chose your daughter, your useless husband and you came here expecting me to welcome you with open hands and just listen to your gibberish?"

Her lips parted, but she didn’t answer right away. The words she had prepared felt small under his gaze. "I came to end this," she said finally, her voice steadier than she felt.

A smirk tugged at his mouth. "End what, exactly? The mess you started, or the loyalty you owe me?"

"Dad... I never started this," Jasmine said, her voice shaking but firm. "I loved him. And his love... It lets me breathe. You never once raised me with love. Everything that ever came from your mouth were curses and orders, not affection."

Owen’s jaw twitched. "Love?" he repeated, his tone sharp and mocking. "You talk about love as if it feeds you, clothes you, gives you a name in this world. I taught you how to survive, Jasmine." He suddenly jerked forward, his eyes flashing. Jasmine instinctively flinched. "Stop talking about a word that shouldn’t exist in this world—it makes me nauseous."

She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. "That’s exactly what I mean," she whispered. "You hate love because you never had it. You don’t understand it, so you destroy anyone who does."

Owen’s lips curved into a cold, humorless smile. "Ah... a few months with your family and suddenly you’ve grown a spine," he said slowly, his voice dripping with disdain. He pushed himself up from the sofa, reaching for his cane. The tip tapped against the marble floor with a sharp click. "Tell me, Jasmine... what did they promise you?"

Jasmine blinked, confused. "What—?"

"Money?" he cut her off, taking a limping step closer. "Status? Protection?" His eyes glinted with cruel amusement. "Or did that man fill your head with fairytales?"

Her throat tightened. "No one promised me anything," she said, forcing the words through clenched teeth. "I just—"

"You just what?" Owen snapped, his cane slamming against the floor. "Betrayed your own blood for a delusion?"

"I chose peace!" Jasmine burst out, her voice shaking. "Something you never gave me, not once in my life!"

Owen’s expression darkened, the air between them thick with restrained fury. "Peace doesn’t exist in this world," he said coldly. "You should know that better than anyone. You think you can buy it with love, but love is just another kind of weapon and you’ve pointed it at me."

She was scared but refused to look away. "You already lost, Dad," she said softly. "Not to me. To yourself."

Owen laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. "I lost? Are you sure about that?" His voice dripped with mockery, but his gaze flickered with something dangerous.

Jasmine took a slow breath, her hands curling at her sides. "Yes," she said, her tone trembling but resolute. "You lost the day Matthew stopped calling you ’father.’ The day he started talking to the walls because that was safer than talking to you."

The laughter stopped. The silence that followed was heavier than any shout.

"What did you say?" Owen’s voice dropped low, almost a growl.

"You heard me," Jasmine whispered. "You broke him. You broke all of us, but you’re too proud to see it and blamed others for your own sins!"

Before she could react, Owen’s cane clattered to the floor. His hand shot out, seizing her by the throat. The sudden pressure stole her breath as her back hit the edge of the table behind her.

"Watch your mouth," he hissed, his face inches from hers. His grip tightened, the veins in his hand standing out. "You think you understand what happened to Matthew? They did it! They ruined my empire and ruined my precious son!"

Jasmine’s nails dug into his wrist, her breath coming out in short, ragged gasps. "No!" she croaked, her eyes burning as tears streamed down her cheeks. "You did this! You pushed him too far! Your obsession, your pride, your damned empire! He tried to help you, Dad! He tried, but you crushed him under the weight of everything you wanted to save!"

Owen’s eyes flared, the fury in them wild and unrestrained. "You think I wanted that to happen?!" he roared, shaking her so hard her head snapped back. "I did everything... everything to keep this family from falling apart! To keep our name alive!"

"You did it for yourself!" Jasmine gasped, clawing at his hand. "You were so desperate to hold onto your power that you didn’t see what it was doing to him... what it was doing to us! You are the crazy one!"

Owen’s eyes burned with fury, his whole body shaking. "You dare call me crazy?" he barked, his voice cracking like a whip. He snatched a heavy glass of whiskey and hurled it. It struck Jasmine’s temple, the glass shattering, amber liquid spilling like blood across the carpet.

Jasmine staggered, gripping the edge of the table to steady herself. "That’s it, isn’t it?" she whispered, her voice trembling but unyielding. "You destroy everything that refuses to obey you. That’s why Matthew broke. That’s why I left. And that’s why you’re going to lose everything again."

Owen’s jaw tightened. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before turning toward the side table. The drawer slid open and when he turned back, a gun was in his hand.

Jasmine froze, her breath catching. Neither of them spoke. The silence stretched until the gun was pointing straight to her.