The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 216

216 Chapter 216 Taking Back What

You Owe

Blanche’s POVO

I was pressing a tissue against Vincent’s wound when his question hit me. My hand froze for just a heartbeat -barely noticeable.

After a moment of silence, I finally spoke. “We’re from two different worlds.”

I kept my head down, letting my lashes hide my face. No smile crossed my lips–I meant every word.

Vincent made a pained sound. His voice dropped, heavy with hurt. “Blanche, I’ve been reaching out to you, taking step after step in your direction. Why won’t you take even one step toward me? Why is it always just me?”

I continued dabbing at Vincent’s fingers with the tissue, then lifted my eyes to meet his. The second our gazes locked, I saw nothing but raw anger and pain burning in his stare.

I spaced out for a second, but then that image from

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the other night crashed back–Vincent kissing Joanna -hitting me out of nowhere.

My expression went cold, and my tone turned to ice. “You have your life, and I have mine.”

Vincent was clearly fed up with this line. He’d heard me say it countless times, and it obviously got under his skin.

I could see him thinking, remembering something. Maybe how different I’d been at the hospital.

His temper exploded. He grabbed my arm, yanking me close, his eyes boring into mine as he snarled, “You’re lying to me!”

I winced, my brows pinching in pain. “Vincent, let go

of me.”

He just couldn’t seem to wrap his head around how much I’d changed. His voice dropped low as he pressed on, “Tell me, what did I do wrong? If it’s my fault, I’ll fix it. Just tell me, okay?”

I stared right back at him. “No, you haven’t done anything wrong. Not a thing.”

His grip on my arm loosened slightly, disbelief washing

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over his face. He asked, “So, you still have feelings for Zain, don’t you?”

I tried to yank my arm free, but no matter how hard I twisted, I couldn’t break loose.

Finally giving up, I met his stare and said, my voice like ice, “I don’t love anyone. I only care about myself. That’s all there is to it.”

My words clearly cut deep. But I could tell he thought I was just making excuses–that he was convinced I still had feelings for Zain.

He shoved my arm away, his voice blazing with fury. “If you don’t want me, then stay out of my life! Even if I drop dead, it has nothing to do with you.”

With that, Vincent spun around and stormed off without looking back.

“Vincent,” I called out.

He stopped dead, and I could sense hope flickering in

his chest.

But all I gave him was my cold, matter–of–fact voice. “Camila and Dorian are innocent. Let’s not take our feelings out on them. When we go back, let’s not make

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things awkward or fight anymore.”

Vincent let out a bitter laugh. “That’s all you wanted to say?”

I nodded, my voice steady and cold. “Yes.”

Before I could get another word out, Vincent marched right back, grabbed the back of my head, and yanked me into his arms. He didn’t care what I wanted–he crashed his lips down onto mine, sealing my mouth with his own.

He kissed me fiercely, almost savagely, stealing every bit of my breath.

I felt like I was suffocating, struggling desperately and pounding against Vincent’s chest, but not a single sound could escape my lips.

It wasn’t until I went limp, collapsing against him, that

Vincent finally released me.

Even then, his hand stayed gripping the back of my head, his forehead pressed to mine as he took deep, ragged breaths. “Blanche, you owe me this,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I’m just taking back a little of what you owe me.”

216 Chapter 216 Taking Back What You Owe

After that, he slowly loosened his hold on me.

But the very next moment, I drew back and slapped him across the face with everything I had.

Vincent’s head whipped to the side from the impact, his face frozen in complete shock. For a second, he just stared, then ran his tongue across his cheek, like he couldn’t believe I’d actually hit him.

My hand dropped to my side, my fingers shaking so badly I could barely control them.

When feeling came back to my fingers, I immediately started scrubbing at my lips–hard, rough, desperate— rubbing until they were red and torn, but I kept going, like I could erase what had happened.

Vincent saw the pure disgust on my face and it

seemed to hit him like a physical blow–I could see the pain written all over him.

I glared at him, tears streaming down my cheeks, my voice shaking with rage and heartbreak. “Vincent, how could you? You’ve got no shame at all! You’re disgusting! Why did you have to kiss me?”

I said a lot more, but I could tell only one word really registered with him–disgusting.

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He went completely still, then after a long, bitter pause, he practically barked out a laugh. “Me, disgusting? Seriously, Blanche? That’s what you think of me? I’ve been surrounded by women, but I’ve never touched a single one–not even once. The only reason I kept myself clean was for you! And now you have the nerve to call me disgusting?”

With every word, Vincent got more worked up, his usually handsome features twisting with pure,

explosive rage.

He stared me down, eyes blazing red, looking absolutely terrifying like he might snap any second.

With that, he violently kicked the pile of firewood at his feet, then turned and stormed off without looking

back.

I stood frozen to the spot, stunned, trying to process

Vincent’s words.

‘He’s been saving himself for me?‘ My thoughts spun, disbelief rising up inside me.

But with all those tabloid headlines about Vincent and other women—and that night at the restaurant, when I’d actually seen him flirting up close with some

Chan

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celebrity actress–it was impossible to believe.

Yet here he was, acting like he’d done me some great favor, boldly declaring he’d stayed pure for me.

‘Fine, forget about that actress,‘ I told myself, bitterness growing. ‘But what about Joanna?”

I just couldn’t believe for a second that any of it was real—his claims of innocence, his carefully crafted image, all of it felt like nothing but lies to me.

To me, Vincent’s words were empty–I knew better than to trust a single thing he said.

When Vincent got back, Joanna spotted him right

away.

She noticed his tense mood and walked over, concern in her voice. “Mr. Aarav, are you still upset about what Carry said?”

A

Vincent was still frustrated and barely glanced at her, replying curtly, “It’s not worth it.”

From what I could observe, Vincent seemed bothered by the situation, perhaps feeling sorry for Dorian rather than being angry at a child.

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Joanna saw how cold Vincent was toward her and assumed he was still holding a grudge against Carry- which probably meant he was annoyed at her too, just by association.

She couldn’t help but speak up. “Mr. Aarav, I want to apologize on Carry’s behalf. She really shouldn’t have said those things to Dorian.”

Vincent turned to look straight at her, his voice icy. “So, are you planning to apologize for her for the rest of her life?”

Joanna was completely thrown–she just stood there, lost for words.

After all, Joanna had never been a mother, so there was no way she could truly understand how much it hurt Dorian, hearing someone call him something like

that.

Right then, her apology wasn’t really about

understanding the gravity of the situation—it was just a quick fix to smooth things over.

Seeing Joanna at a loss for words, Vincent felt a strange urge to laugh.

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But before he could, Joanna suddenly leaned in closer to him.

At the same time, she deliberately brushed her chest against his arm.

Vincent could tell Joanna was messing with him on purpose, and his face clouded over in an instant.

In the next moment, he deliberately stepped away from Joanna, putting clear space between them.

I had just returned from the woods and spotted Vincent and Joanna standing so close, it looked like they might end up in each other’s arms.

I shot them a quick glance, then immediately started scanning the crowd for Camila.

Just then, I heard Carry’s voice, sharp and cruel, shouting, “You’re a bastard! You’re a bastard! You’re a bastard! That’s all you are, Dorian! You don’t even have a mom–you’re just a bastard!”

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