The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 219

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Blood

Blanche’s POVO

I stared at Vincent, caught completely off guard.

When he saw my silence, Vincent started pulling his hand away.

The moment I noticed him withdrawing, I finally released his hand and spoke with calculated calm. “What’s the point of marching over there? So you can lecture Carry? Will that actually fix anything? Honestly, just let them handle their own mess.”

I turned on my heel and walked back toward Camila and the others.

*I’ve said my piece,* I thought to myself. *If Vincent still wants to go, that’s on him—not my problem anymore. I’m done playing peacekeeper.*

Whether he genuinely worried about Carry spiraling or feared losing Joanna’s attention—those were his battles to fight. He could make his own damn choices.

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When I rejoined Camila and Dorian, they’d already polished off lunch and moved on to games.

I’d barely settled into my seat when Vincent reappeared.

Honestly, I was shocked to see him back.

*He actually didn’t go chase after Joanna?* I wondered.

Yoli spotted us returning and immediately began organizing lunch for us.

While eating, a dull ache gnawed at my lower abdomen. After doing some quick math, I realized my period was probably starting.

I shrugged it off, not giving it much thought.

The rest of the afternoon, I felt completely drained- listless and unable to shake this heavy mood.

Vincent picked up on my energy but assumed I was still rattled by the whole Carry situation.

By late afternoon, the daycare event wrapped up.

After dropping Camila at the Callum Mansion, I drove straight to Blissfield Villa.

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I pulled into Blissfield around dinnertime, perfect timing for the evening meal.

Zain was home, Oswald too, but Carry was nowhere to

be seen.

Heidi had already arranged the dinner table. When Oswald noticed Carry’s absence, he glanced at me as I entered and asked, “Where’s Carry? How come she’s not back yet?”

I hesitated, then instinctively looked toward Zain.

*Carry’s practically disowned me. How would I possibly know her whereabouts?* I thought bitterly.

Zain caught my glance, then answered his grandfather. “Grandpa, Carry’s at a friend’s place. She mentioned staying for dinner there.”

*A friend?* I nearly laughed out loud.

With Carry’s reputation at daycare, the idea of her having actual friends was laughable.

Still, I let Zain’s diplomatic lie pass without comment.

Seeing Carry wouldn’t be joining them, Oswald addressed me. “Blanche, come sit–dinner’s ready to start.”

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I nodded and took my place at the table.

As I sat, another sharp stab of pain hit my lower abdomen.

The persistent ache had left me feeling washed out all day—so pale and lifeless I probably looked alarming.

Despite the feast spread before us, I couldn’t muster any appetite.

Oswald instructed Zain to serve me some soup, and Zain complied.

But staring at the rich, fatty broth in my bowl, I felt absolutely no desire to eat.

Just as dinner was about to begin, I turned to Zain with sudden resolve. “Zain, I need to discuss two things with you, and I want Grandpa to hear this too.”

My abrupt, serious tone clearly startled Zain–I could see the apprehension flash across his face.

*Is she really going to bring up divorce in front of Grandpa?* he was probably thinking.

Not wanting to risk it, Zain lowered his voice. “Grandpa’s trying to eat. Whatever this is about, let’s discuss it upstairs.”

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But I held firm. “No, we’re having this conversation right here.”

Zain’s knuckles went white around his chopsticks, but before he could object, Oswald intervened. “That’s right, whatever needs saying, say it in front of me. If Zain has been treating you poorly, Blanche, don’t worry–I’ll back you up.”

Whether Oswald meant it or not, his words genuinely touched me.

I smiled warmly at him. “Thank you, Grandpa.”

Then I turned my attention back to Zain.

Zain’s jaw was tight, tension radiating from every line of his body.

I could see his stress, but I didn’t rush. Keeping my voice steady, I began. “Carry verbally attacked someone at today’s daycare event. So, what do you think our response should be?”

Hearing this, Zain visibly relaxed.

After a pause, he asked, “What exactly did Carry say?”

I replied evenly, “She called him a ‘bastard‘–in front of

everyone.”

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Zain went completely still, like he genuinely couldn’t process it.

He said nothing.

I wouldn’t let it slide. “Zain, answer me–how should we handle this?”

Zain deflected. “What about you? What’s your take?”

I clenched my teeth. “She needs to apologize publicly, then go without meals for an entire day.”

Zain’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t that excessive?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely not. That’s exactly how

serious this is.”

Dorian was already wounded from not having a

mother. Being labeled a ‘bastard‘ was like rubbing salt in an open wound.

Zain shrugged with complete indifference. “And if I refuse to make Carry apologize?”

A

I’d anticipated this response. “Fine. She’s not just my responsibility–she’s yours too.”

Zain’s expression darkened. He raised his voice. “Carry’s still a child. Are you seriously planning to beat

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her?”

I didn’t flinch. “Yes, she needs discipline.”

Zain’s voice climbed higher. “Blanche, you’re her mother! Do you hear yourself?”

Once we started arguing, Oswald couldn’t squeeze in a word.

As our voices escalated, he sat there helplessly- unsure who to support or how to intervene.

I watched Zain’s face twist with fury and instinctively started to stand–but suddenly felt warmth spreading between my thighs.

So I sank back down.

The pain in my abdomen intensified until my entire body was slick with cold sweat.

Even so, I kept silent. Maintaining an icy expression, I told Zain, “Before, no matter how much you protested or felt sorry for her, I would’ve made her kneel and apologize. But now? Handle it however you want.”

With that, I clutched my lower abdomen and stood, heading toward Blissfield Villa’s exit.

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But I’d only taken a couple steps when I froze completely.

Looking down, I saw thin, unmistakable streaks of blood running down my calf.

My cheeks burned with mortification.

*Of course my period had to humiliate me like this…*

But before I could process it further, my vision went black and I collapsed.

Zain’s POV

Blanche crumpled to the floor, blood trickling from her calf and pooling beneath her.

I stood frozen for a split second when Blanche suddenly fell, then leaped up and rushed to her side.

Dropping to my knees beside her, I gently tapped her cheek, desperately trying to rouse her.

But her face was deathly pale, drained of all color–she looked absolutely terrifying.

In that moment, panic seized my heart.

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Without wasting another second, I gathered Blanche into my arms and bolted toward the door.

Oswald, hobbling with his cane, couldn’t possibly keep pace. Breathless, he called after us, “Zain, call me from the hospital!”

My voice echoed back, strained with urgency. “I will, Grandpa!”

Blanche’s POV

When I slowly regained consciousness, I found Zain standing by the window, chain–smoking.

I couldn’t tell how many cigarettes he’d burned through, but the entire room was thick with smoke.

The smell was unbearable. I frowned and spoke up. “Zain, could you take that outside?”

The moment I spoke, I realized my voice was so scratchy it barely sounded like me.

Zain immediately stubbed out his half–finished cigarette in the ashtray.

After ensuring it was completely extinguished, he

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walked over to my hospital bed.

He sank into the chair beside me, his eyes cold and intense. “Blanche, tell me the truth–why do you think you collapsed?”