In the next morning, Jasmin was waking up, and it seemed like a normal day for her. However, someone disturbed her thoughts again.
"Hmm... Someone did interrupt your peace; I know a strange man can do it!"
"You know if you can't say it, just stop it!" Jasmin talked back to her thoughts, her voice tinged with irritation.
"You get disturbed by someone; remember, you can't fall for someone," her thoughts reminded her, but she ignored them. It was strange to think she could talk to her own mind like this. She quickly dressed, adjusting her tie, and made her way to the recorder, noticing it had been moved.
With a flick of a button, the recorder came to life.
"Hey Jasmin, if you are hearing this... Well, this is me, Martin. I used your recorder to let you know that you're okay. I see you're okay. I also just gave you a slice of cake, and I put it in the fridge. I visited you yesterday; I just wanted to let you know."
After hearing Martin's message, Jasmin headed straight to the dining room, where Martin was already seated.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, glancing up as she sat beside him.
"Yes, I did. But you really don't need to visit me all the time. You're like a security guard, always popping up in my room without warning," Jasmin replied, a playful smirk on her lips.
"Oh, and you didn't expect me to come here, did you?"
"Nope, never expected it. But now that you're here, I'm glad," she admitted, her tone softening.
"So, did you finally find a job?" Martin inquired, genuine curiosity in his voice.
"I did! Fabienne helped me yesterday. After a tough search, I'm officially a bodyguard!" Jasmin's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Say what?!"
"That's your reaction?"
"Not what I expected at all! But I'm sure working as a bodyguard is good for you, right?"
"Absolutely! I'm thrilled! I still have to prove myself, though. They want me to pass a few tests before I'm officially hired," she explained, a hint of determination in her voice.
"What company did you apply to?"
"Find-Bodyguard. Their logo is familiar; I think I've seen it on Janina's ID. And they have a huge aquarium with big fish!" she added, her enthusiasm palpable.
"That's awesome! I'm happy for you!" Martin beamed. "How about you? Are you still stuck in that old job?"
"Yep, same as always. But I love it. My job is my little joy, even if it's a bit dull," he confessed with a chuckle.
"Aww... do you want me to give you a round of applause?" Jasmin teased.
"Not necessary! I was actually going to take you to the company to see where Janina worked," Martin said, his tone serious.
"Come on, you know that company well. You were a personal driver there, right?"
"Who told you that?"
"Henrik. He mentioned it. He's still grappling with Janina's death, trying to move on."
"Oh, I didn't know you hung out with him."
"Why? Are you going to get jealous?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.
"What? Seriously? I'm not jealous. I know it's just a talk, nothing more. I'm here to support you," he reassured her, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.
Just then, Alody appeared, surprised to find them already having breakfast.
"Oh, you're both having breakfast?" she remarked, stepping closer.
"How are you?" Martin asked, genuine in his concern.
"I'm fine," Alody replied.
"Good to hear!" Martin smiled.
"Oh hey, are you two getting all cozy?" Jasmin asked, unable to resist poking fun at them.
"Not really. I stayed in Manila with Janina before you came, just to meet Alody," Martin clarified.
"For how long?" Jasmin probed, intrigued.
"Four years. I went there for realty, and Janina used to visit Makati often. Best mall ever," Martin reminisced.
"What mall?" Jasmin asked, curious.
"Greenbelt. It's fantastic! You can meet so many foreigners there," he replied, his eyes lighting up.
"Oh, the mall without seats!" Jasmin exclaimed, recalling her own memories.
"Exactly! I'm glad you remember that!" Martin laughed.
"Of course! Just because I have schizophrenia doesn't mean I can't remember events. It's the names I struggle with," Jasmin said, her tone matter-of-fact.
"That's why I'm still thinking about ways to help you. The treatment doesn't mean you're totally sick; it just means you need some improvement," Martin said gently.
"I know what everyone tells me. You don't have to lecture me," Jasmin shot back.
"I'm not here to lecture you," he assured her.
"So, Jasmin, did you find a job?" Alody asked, redirecting the conversation.
"Yes, I'm officially a bodyguard now!" Jasmin exclaimed.
"Really? That's great! Now you and Martin both have jobs! I actually got a job too, working at a grocery store!" Alody added, her excitement infectious.
"What do you do there?" Jasmin asked, intrigued.
"I deliver goods. It's my first job, and I'm loving it!" Alody replied with pride.
"That's awesome! I'm happy for you!" Jasmin cheered.
"I have a driver too!" Alody added, her eyes brightening.
"Who?" Jasmin asked.
"Rafella! She's a bodyguard too and drives me to work," Alody explained.
"That's great! You're really stepping up!" Jasmin smiled.
Meanwhile, at Judith's home, Rafella had just finished taking her daughters to school when she saw Judith getting ready.
"Did you find a job yet?" Rafella asked, concern evident in her voice.
"No, not yet. Walter and I are still searching," Judith responded, a hint of defeat in her tone.
"I thought you were going to work for Leonie Frenzer," Rafella said, surprised.
"She knows about Sonja Heinen's situation and didn't hire us because she thinks Jasmin ruined Sonja's life," Judith explained, frustration boiling beneath the surface.
"That's so unfair! It's not Jasmin's fault!" Rafella exclaimed. "There are plenty of jobs out there. Don't lose hope!"
"You're right. I'll browse online instead of wasting time walking around," Judith decided, determination creeping back into her voice.
"And how's Alody?" Rafella asked, shifting the topic.
"She's fine. I think she'll be amazed by the grocery store; she's never seen one in Wuppertal," Judith said with a smile.
"You'll need to guide her. She'll need help finding her way," Rafella suggested.
"Yes! I need to go now; Alody texted me. I'm on my way to help her!" Rafella said, rushing out the door.
Meanwhile, Jasmin was preparing to head to the company with Martin for her tests.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Martin asked, concern etched on his face.
"I'm fully ready, Martin! I don't need any stupid pep talks to convince me!" Jasmin replied, her confidence unshakeable.
"You'll do great! I know you will," Martin assured her as they drove toward the office.
Upon arriving, Florentin greeted Jasmin with a smile, clearly pleased to see her.
"Oh, Ms. Hoppe, you finally arrived!" he said warmly.
"I told you I was excited to show you I can take down those bad guys. For me, they're just freaking basic," Jasmin replied, determination shining in her eyes.
"Don't be too competitive, dear. Let me explain the tests you'll face: a shooting test, a sparring test, and a combat fight test," Florentin instructed, his tone serious yet encouraging.
"Is that it? I have to do all those tests to prove I'm tough enough?" Jasmin asked, a mix of excitement and apprehension bubbling up.
"Yes, and if you pass, you're hired! Don't worry; I'll be watching through the cameras," Florentin said reassuringly.
"Alright, let's do this!" Jasmin declared, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
The scent of spent gunpowder hung heavy in the air, a familiar perfume to Jasmin. She stood, back straight, eyes narrowed in concentration, already perfectly prepared for her shooting training. Her fingers, long and slender yet clearly strong, closed around the grip of the handgun, feeling its familiar weight and balance. Before her, a row of five empty beer cans gleamed dully under the fluorescent lights of the indoor range. These weren't stationary targets. They were set to pop up, one after another, at irregular intervals, demanding not just accuracy but lightning-fast reflexes.
Florentin, a man whose discerning gaze rarely betrayed emotion, watched from behind a soundproof glass partition, Martin at his side. He had seen countless applicants, men twice Jasmin's size, falter under this simple test. He expected no less from her, a woman whose resume, while impressive, had a few... unconventional gaps.
The first can snapped up. Before the echo of the mechanism faded, a sharp crack split the air. The can was already spinning, a neat hole punched through its center. The second, then the third, fourth, and fifth followed in rapid succession, each appearing, each instantly annihilated. It was a blur of motion, a symphony of precision and speed. The range went silent save for the ping of the last can hitting the dirt trap.
Florentin's jaw dropped imperceptibly, his cool façade cracking just enough for a flicker of genuine astonishment to show. Martin, less reserved, let out a low whistle.
"Wow, what a bull's-eye girl!" Florentin commented, stepping out from the partition, his voice carrying the weight of his amazement. He hadn't expected such flawless execution, let alone such incredible speed.
Next, the scene shifted to a padded training arena, the air thick with the faint smell of sweat and leather. Jasmin stood at the center, a single wooden baton clutched firmly in her hand. Her stance was relaxed, almost casual, yet coiled with an unspoken readiness. She wasn't afraid, not when she saw the hulking figure advancing towards her, a man whose biceps strained against his t-shirt, wielding two formidable wooden batons. He looked like he walked straight out of a brutalist action flick.
"Oh, is that all you got?!" Jasmin's voice cut through the tension, a taunt delivered with an unnerving calm. Her eyes, cool and assessing, scanned his posture, his grip, anticipating his every move before he even made it.
The man, a veteran of these "tests," smirked, a condescending sneer distorting his features. He'd seen plenty of cocky newbies, especially the little ones. "You don't have to cock what you got," he replied, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. He clearly thought Jasmin was an easy mark, just another pretty face trying to prove something.
"Oh, you're wrong, man." Jasmin's response was soft, almost a whisper, but it carried an undeniable edge.
She rolled the baton in her hand, a smooth, practiced motion. The guy, fueled by misplaced confidence, charged, his two batons a blur as he aimed a sweeping strike at her head. Martin, watching from the sidelines with Florentin, tensed. He couldn't do anything but brace himself. But Jasmin didn't flinch. She flowed, moving like water, sidestepping the initial blow, her single baton a blur. She deflected a punch aimed at her ribs, then, with a sickening thud, her baton found its mark. The man gasped, his eyes wide with pain as she struck his groin. As he doubled over, momentarily incapacitated, she brought her baton down again, a sharp, precise crack against his temple. The large man crumpled to the mat like a discarded sack of potatoes.
He was down. Just like that. Martin stared, utterly dumbfounded. "She was a tough one, girl," he muttered to Florentin, more to himself than anyone else.
Florentin, however, was no longer just observing. He was captivated. A slow smile spread across his face, a genuine expression of intrigue. "I want to do the next round for her," he declared, his voice firm. "I think Jasmin wasn't an ordinary woman."
For the next round, Florentin decided to raise the stakes. Two men, both wielding batons, stood opposite Jasmin. They approached with more caution than their predecessor, having witnessed his humiliating defeat. Jasmin, still with her single baton, merely adjusted her grip, her expression serene.
The first guy lunged, aiming a swift strike at her hand, hoping to disarm her. He connected, forcing her to drop to one knee. But even as she went down, she pivoted, her baton a lethal extension of her will. It slammed into the guy's knee with an audible crack, sending him sprawling with a yelp of pain. She was back on her feet in an instant, a coiled spring released. The other guy, emboldened by a momentary opening, swung his baton, but Jasmin met it with a block, the impact reverberating up her arm. She spun, countering with a sharp jab to his chest that winded him, stealing his breath. He tried to spar—to strike back—but she was too quick, too relentless. A brutal kick landed in his groin, followed by a swift, decisive strike to his head. He joined his partner on the mat, groaning.
Jasmin stood over them, barely breathing heavily, her single baton held loosely. She looked at Florentin, a playful challenge in her eyes. "How fast was that, Florin? Do you think you have any other weak guys like them?" she asked, a hint of satisfaction in her tone. She had proven her point, not once, but twice over.
Florentin clapped slowly, a wide grin now adorning his face. "That's how you impress me, Ms. Hoppe," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I didn't expect you could do something that surprising. I never knew you could even just surprise me all of a sudden." His admiration was obvious.
Jasmin gave a slight, knowing giggle. "They are very basic though. You just judge me for something like they call me a psychopath, don't you?"
Florentin chuckled. "But you're a good psychopath, I see."
Jasmin's eyes gleamed. "Oh, and I think I am also ready for another test. Come on, I think your 'babies' are getting scared to test me enough."
Florentin's smile widened. "Sure, and this is your final test."
The final test was the purest demonstration of skill: bare-handed combat. Jasmin faced a new opponent, a burly man with a wrestler's build and a grim determination. She moved first, attempting a quick jab, but he was fast, quicker than the others. He blocked her punch and retaliated with a hard strike to her face, a blow that snapped her head back. Before she could recover, he had her in a chokehold, his arm tightening around her throat.
For a moment, Florentin's confident expression wavered. But Jasmin wasn't done. With a desperate burst of strength, she wriggled, her sharp fingernails finding their mark, raking across the man's eyes. He cried out, startled, momentarily releasing his grip. That was all Jasmin needed. She seized the opportunity, twisting free, then launching herself upwards in a powerful jump kick that crashed against his head. The man staggered, disoriented, and then collapsed.
Jasmin landed lightly, adjusting her stance, a slight trickle of blood at the corner of her lip. She looked at Florentin, her gaze intense.
"What can you say about that, Florentin?" she asked, her voice a little breathless but firm.
Florentin walked towards her, his expression a mix of awe and profound respect. "I think you did prove me enough, Ms. Hoppe. You have your own unique tactics, and I'm sorry if I almost didn't trust you well. But there's just a small problem with that."
Jasmin's brow furrowed. "What is the problem then?"
Florentin reached into his jacket pocket. "About your papers. They're... a little unconventional. But I think I can fix that. Don't worry, it won't be a big problem anymore. Besides, you are finally hired as a bodyguard."
A genuine smile, free of challenging bravado, illuminated Jasmin's face. "Oh, thank you, Florentin, you are so kind!"
He extended his hand, and she met it with a firm shake. It was official. She had finally become a bodyguard. Florentin then took her picture, and within minutes, she held a brand-new ID card, gleaming and official. Jasmin Hoppe, Bodyguard. The journey had been unconventional, but the result was undeniable. She had found her place.
After the training, Jasmin felt a surge of excitement coursing through her veins. She had passed the test, proving her skills beyond doubt, and now she was ready to step out of the shadows of uncertainty. Martin approached her.
"So...where are you going then, Jasmin?" Martin asked, his curiosity piqued.
"I'm going somewhere to eat, like I should celebrate that I really won in the test. Now you see that I've proved it with my whole skills, and now they believe me," Jasmin explained, her chest puffed with pride.
"I want to join you," he declared, a hint of eagerness in his voice.
"What? Seriously? You want to join me?!" Jasmin blinked, surprised at his sudden interest.
Before Martin could respond, Henrik appeared, a friendly grin plastered on his face. "Oh hi Jasmin, what are you doing here?" he asked, clearly delighted to see her.
"I am standing, you see..." Jasmin replied, her tone literal, rendering him momentarily speechless.
Henrik quickly regained his composure. "I mean, why are you outside of this company?"
"You see, I joined to be a bodyguard, and after a few tests, I passed! I got a picture and an ID for being a bodyguard officially. Isn't that great? Much better than doing a mug shot!" Jasmin beamed.
"Of course it is! Congratulations! I didn't expect you to work with me, Fabienne, and the rest of the bodyguards," Henrik said, his enthusiasm infectious.
"Yes, I find that great! I'm really excited to work now," Jasmin replied, her eyes sparkling.
"Then I'd like to invite you to eat at the restaurant. What do you say?" Henrik offered.
"No, I prefer a not-so-expensive restaurant," Jasmin countered, her practicality shining through.
"It's okay! I can come with you," Henrik insisted.
"Me either. I'm coming with her, and I'm always supporting her," Martin interjected, his protective tone evident.
"Okay, boys, it's either both of you or none! I know you both want to win me over somehow, and it's fine. I understand how guys can't resist flirting," Jasmin teased, a playful smile on her lips.
The three of them decided to head to a nearby restaurant. As they settled at a table, Martin took the seat beside Jasmin, while Henrik sat to her right. She couldn't shake the feeling that their close proximity wasn't accidental.
"Why are you both sitting so close? You boys must really want to be near me, or is it more than that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, I just wanted to sit here! It's my favorite seat," Martin replied, masking his true intentions.
"Anyway... Fabienne isn't here, and I doubt she'll be updated about me. I don't know how to contact her," Jasmin lamented.
"Let me help you contact her," Henrik offered immediately, eager to assist her.
"Well, you're quite the gentleman, huh?" Jasmin remarked, impressed.
"Thank you, Jasmin. That's very kind," he replied with a smile.
Martin felt a pang of jealousy as he observed the two getting along. Henrik's demeanor around Jasmin seemed too relaxed, too familiar, and it annoyed him. He had been trying to reach out to Fabienne, but every attempt had ended in silence, which only fueled his irritation.
"Oh, sorry! Fabienne must be too busy with her job," Henrik said, trying to ease the tension.
"Busy? Why didn't I see her at the company?" Jasmin inquired.
"I think she was dealing with a client," Henrik answered.
"Right," Jasmin said, nodding.
"I also suggest we plan something later, but let's not invite Fabienne. I want to make it special," Henrik suggested, his tone serious.
"Why are you so serious again, Martin?" Jasmin asked, sensing a shift in his mood.
"Nothing, Jasmin. Anyway, did you order something?" Martin deflected, handing her the menu.
Jasmin pointed out her choices: a bottle of wine, steak, BBQ ribs, and fried onion rings, followed by chocolate ice cream for dessert. Martin relayed the order to the waiter, trying to hide his surprise at her appetites.
"Oh boys, I think I need to go to the restroom. Don't you dare leave now," Jasmin warned playfully before getting up.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Martin turned to Henrik, irritation etched on his face. "What are you even trying to do here?" he demanded.
"I'm just being nice to Jasmin. I'm glad she finally has a job," Henrik replied, trying to keep his cool.
"But come on, you're doing this for her now? I'm already supporting her! I want her to motivate herself, learn to express her feelings. And you're just... you're just trying to swoop in!" Martin's voice was low but intense.
"Are you jealous of me?" Henrik shot back, defensive.
"No! I just don't want someone stealing her from me. I'm the one who's been there for her!" Martin exclaimed, his frustration spilling over.
"Let's see about that, Martin. Just give me a chance to love again," Henrik said, his voice steady.
Meanwhile, in the restroom, Jasmin splashed water on her face, trying to calm her racing thoughts. As she leaned against the sink, she caught whispers from the other stalls, confusion clouding her mind. She slipped into a stall for a moment of peace, lighting a cigarette to clear her head.
"Isn't it great that the boys seem so desperate for your attention?" a voice echoed in her mind, making her giggle despite the confusion.
"What are you trying to say?" she murmured to herself, shaking her head.
Just then, Leonie entered, touch up her lipstick with a frown, followed by Jannis, who looked stressed.
"Did you find anything?" Leonie asked, her tone sharp.
"No, I've searched everywhere. I even asked some of my men, and they couldn't find him," Jannis replied, clearly frustrated.
"This is ridiculous. We need to get our act together and find that guy," Leonie insisted.
As they exited, Jasmin stepped out of her stall and paused, suddenly feeling the presence of Janina. "Did you come to scare me again?" she asked, startled.
"I didn't want to scare you, just wanted to make sure you're safe now that Timo won't bother you. Someone will always take care of you," Janina said softly, her warm smile comforting.
"Who? Sidel?" Jasmin asked, still feeling lost.
"Well, someone who will make you feel very important and special," Janina replied cryptically.
"Why? If this is about Walter, I don't get it. I don't care what's wrong with me; I know there's nothing wrong!" Jasmin's frustration bubbled to the surface.
"They just want to show they care about you, you know that. I'm always here to see you fine," Janina reassured her.
"Do you think I can be better? I don't understand. It's like you're speaking in riddles!" Jasmin exclaimed.
"Think about it. Think of the name of someone who always cares for you. It's not a puzzle," Janina encouraged.
As Jasmin closed her eyes, a name sprang to her mind: Martin.
"Martin," she whispered, and in an instant, Janina vanished. Confusion washed over her, but for some reason, the thought of Martin lingered, leaving her heart racing. She stood in front of the mirror, absentmindedly drawing a heart shape, unaware of the feelings that were blossoming within her for him.