The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 211

211 Chapter 211 Playing A Dangerous

Game

Blanche’s POV

1

After stepping out of the restaurant with Demetrius, I found myself standing on the sidewalk, scanning for an available taxi.

Oswald was still back at Blissfield Villa, which meant I’d likely end up returning there tonight.

But right now, the thought of going home felt suffocating.

I glanced at Demetrius and said, “Want to walk for a bit? I’m still pretty full from dinner.”

Demetrius’s face lit up–clearly thrilled at the chance to spend more time together. “Absolutely.”

Side by side, we started wandering down the street.

The pavement stretched out endlessly before us, disappearing into the night.

We talked mostly about work–difficult patients, office drama, the usual hospital madness.

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A while passed without either of us noticing.

When I finally checked the time, I realized how late it had gotten. Time to face reality.

Demetrius offered to escort me home, but I brushed off his concern. “Don’t worry about it, I can manage on my own.”

The moment I slid into the taxi, my phone erupted with a barrage of WhatsApp alerts.

Not just a couple of pings–multiple notifications flooded my screen.

Probably work emergencies or Amara bombarding me with messages again, I figured, pulling out my phone.

I unlocked the screen and opened WhatsApp, only to find Vincent’s profile picture glaring back at me with numerous unread messages.

But when I tapped into our conversation, all I saw were rows of “This message has been deleted” notifications.

My brow furrowed in confusion. I typed a simple “?”

and sent it.

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His response came immediately: [Oops, wrong button.]

I paused, then replied: [Oh.]

And that was it–our exchange died right there, leaving an uncomfortable silence.

Back at the restaurant, Vincent kept glancing at his phone every few seconds, waiting for another text from Blanche.

Nothing came. He released one frustrated sigh after another.

The actress sitting across from him remained silent, afraid to interrupt his mood.

After several more sighs, Vincent suddenly straightened up, struck by inspiration. He grabbed his phone and opened Joanna’s chat thread.

He started typing, deleted it, tried again—wavering before finally settling on a direct approach: [Wanna hook up?]

At that moment, Joanna was in the study with Zain.

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Vincent’s message hit her like a lightning bolt, nearly making her drop her phone entirely.

Zain’s POV

I was reviewing documents while Joanna researched potential thesis topics.

Even though I had already pressured Aiden into assigning Demetrius to handle the research project, I knew Joanna couldn’t let her guard down until everything was officially confirmed.

She’d fought tooth and nail to get into this PhD program–no way would she let that effort crumble.

With a doctorate, she’d gain access to entirely different social circles and opportunities that were currently beyond her reach.

When Vincent’s message appeared, I noticed Joanna’s reaction immediately–I set aside my papers and turned toward her with concern. “What happened?”

Joanna’s face flushed red. She quickly flipped her phone face–down on the desk, stammering, “N–Nothing at all.”

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I wasn’t buying it. I reached for her phone, intent on investigating.

Seeing this, Joanna quickly pressed down on my hand, trying to stop me. “Zain, it’s just some video a friend shared with me.”

My frown deepened, worry creeping into my expression.

“What’s the problem? Why can’t I see it?”

Since I was insisting, Joanna said quietly, “Promise me you won’t get angry when you see it.”

Intrigued by her secrecy, I nodded. “Fine, I won’t be

upset.”

Seeing my agreement, Joanna finally picked up her phone, found her friend’s message with the video link, opened it, and handed the device to me.

The video immediately filled the room with a woman’s voice: “If you want to capture a man’s heart, here’s what you need to do…”

I watched for a few seconds before losing interest. I returned the phone to Joanna and said, “Just be yourself. You don’t need to study that nonsense.”

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Joanna exhaled quietly in relief.

Thank god I didn’t dig deeper. If I had, I would have discovered Vincent’s message.

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Hearing my advice, Joanna tilted her head coquettishly and asked, “But if I don’t master those techniques, how will I make you fall for me?”

I paused momentarily, not taking the bait.

Instead, I reached over and gently flicked her forehead, my expression turning serious. “Right now, your priority should be your research project.

Everything else you don’t need to worry about any of

it.”

Seeing my stern look, Joanna didn’t dare continue joking. She nodded softly. “Understood.”

I returned to my work while Joanna sat there, supposedly reading research papers, but her thoughts kept drifting.

Vincent’s message had completely unsettled her.

In all of Oakwood, aside from me, Vincent wielded more power than anyone else.

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She’d already gotten me under her spell, but she never imagined having the same effect on Vincent.

The satisfaction coursing through her right now nearly matched the high of getting accepted into the PhD program–maybe even surpassed it.

After some consideration, Joanna shut down her tablet and said softly to me, her voice slightly uncertain, “Zain, I’m finished studying for tonight. I just want to go home and unwind.”

Hearing this, I immediately stood up. “Of course, I’ll drive you home.”

Joanna didn’t refuse. “Okay.”

I grabbed a jacket and left with Joanna, walking her downstairs.

Oswald had already gone to bed; otherwise, I never would have allowed Joanna to visit so casually.

After dropping Joanna off, I didn’t linger—I headed straight back to Blissfield Villa.

Once she was back at Zain’s new apartment, Joanna

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collapsed onto the couch and messaged Vincent: [Mr. Aarav, are you really so desperate that you can’t even wait?]

Vincent’s response appeared instantly: [Well? Yes or no? Just give me an answer.]

Joanna stared at the message, unable to stop herself from imagining Vincent looking at her like he wanted to consume her whole.

But just then, a push notification slid across the top of

her screen.

“Vincent Spotted with Actress at Five–Star Restaurant, Packing on the PDA.”

Joanna couldn’t resist clicking to investigate.

The photos and videos were crystal clear—Vincent and the actress looked incredibly intimate together.

Watching those scenes, Joanna made a disgusted

sound.

Right then, another message from Vincent appeared: [?]

Joanna typed back: [Mr. Aarav, I want a man who’s

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completely devoted to me, not someone constantly surrounded by a parade of women. That just makes me feel like I’ll never be his only priority.]

Sure, Vincent obviously desired her, but Joanna was curious–would he actually transform himself for her?

Getting a serial womanizer to commit? Now that would be the ultimate victory.

When Vincent read her message, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

He switched off his phone and didn’t bother responding.

He’d thought this would be simple, convinced he had Joanna completely figured out–but she was proving far more challenging than he’d anticipated.

Still, Vincent couldn’t resist sending one final message: [Buzzkill.]

Just two words, but when Joanna saw them, she

merely smirked and actually let out a small scoff–pure contempt in her eyes.

Ever since reaching adulthood, Joanna had learned

one fundamental truth: if you let a man sleep with you

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too easily, he’d stop appreciating you almost immediately.

Joanna understood from experience: the more effort a

man had to invest, the less likely he was to abandon you. Making him work for it was the secret to keeping him interested.

Vincent was perpetually surrounded by stunning women, but none ever seemed to stick around. Maybe that was because he never had to struggle—they

simply threw themselves at him, so why would he bother maintaining any relationship?

But Joanna was determined to be different—the one who distinguished herself from the pack, the one he’d never be able to forget.

So she simply left his message on read, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

After all, keeping him guessing might just make him even more obsessed.

212 Chapter 212 The Monster Next Door

212 Chapter 212 The Monster Next