The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 46

Chapter 34-2

And now he has his hands on my wife.

Not ex-wife.

Wife.

The legal fact still matters, and it matters more because she wants it not to.

The rage that moves through me is so pure and complete it almost feels clean, because now I know:

Claim

This didn’t happen recently, it couldn’t have. Zara doesn’t become that woman overnight. She doesn’t go from sexless and pathetically in love with me, to this sultry, slutty plaything of Locke’s in just a few weeks.

No. This has been happening longer than I knew. Quietly, behind my back. In the spaces where I was busy keeping our lives from collapsing.

My stomach twists, because suddenly I can see it. The little moments. The things I dismissed.

The way Cobra seemed oddly comfortable walking away from doing business with my club. The way Zara suddenly found courage she never possessed before.

Not courage, though… support. She had support. She had him.

And if that’s true – if they’ve been playing me – then every conversation, every meeting, every refusal now becomes something else entirely.

Humiliation.

The word settles heavily inside me.

Fucking humiliation.

Because that’s what this is.

Across the street, Locke turns toward his motorcycle. Zara follows him, and the sight of it carves something ugly through my chest because she doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t look around, doesn’t check to see whether anyone might be watching.

She trusts him.

That thought is somehow worse than the kiss.

She trusts him enough to climb onto the back of his motorcycle, enough to place herself behind him and wrap her arms around his waist, her lithe little body fitting against his like it belongs there.

I stare at her hands, at the easy way they settle on him. At the way she leans in when he says something over his shoulder, her mouth close to his neck, her smile still there.

Something hot and poisonous slides beneath my ribs.

She never looked like that with me.

123

Chapter 34-2-

She loved me, yes. I know she did. That was never in question. Zara’s love was obvious enough to be pathetic and embarrassing, all those years of longing looks and quiet attempts to make herself indispensable. But this is different.

This isn’t love. This is hunger.

Clam

And Locke Tanner did this. He put himself between us. Fed her rebellion. Made her think she could refuse me, refuse the agreement, refuse the life that protected her because he was waiting with his hands and his bike and that fucking quiet, calculating face that no one ever knows how to read.

He made me look like a fool. Both of them did. All of them did.

The motorcycle starts with a low growl, and they pull away from the curb. Zara’s arms tighten automatically around Locke as they merge into traffic, and I watch until they disappear completely.

Only then do I move.

Slowly, I place the ruined coffee cup back into the holder and wipe my hand on a napkin, because anger is useful only when it has somewhere to go, and mine finally does.

Let them enjoy this. Let Zara smile. Let Locke believe that he can take what belongs to another man, and just ride away into the sunset untouched. Let Cobra think that his daughter’s happiness is worth disrupting my business.

They’ve all mistaken patience for weakness, silence for surrender. And worst of all, they’ve mistaken me for a man who will accept humiliation, because the woman who once loved him has found courage in another man’s bed.

I start the truck..

So, Zara and Locke think they’ve made me look like a fucking idiot. Fine.

Now I’m going to make them pay for it.

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