The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 257

257 Chapter 257 Marking His

Territory

Blanche’s POV

Vincent’s brutal words slammed into Amara like a

punch to the gut.

I whirled around, fury blazing in my eyes as I snapped at him, “Vincent, enough!”

Kingsley understood Vincent’s strategy perfectly, though worry gnawed at him–this could all backfire spectacularly.

Amara’s grip remained death–tight on the knife while blood from my hand dripped steadily onto the floor, forming a crimson puddle beneath me.

Vincent pressed on relentlessly. His voice cut through the thick tension like a blade. “You’ve got energy to threaten your best friend with a knife, but you can’t gather solid evidence? Can’t fight for Marquis to get a harsher sentence? If I were in your shoes, Marquis would be behind bars in shackles by now, not standing

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here sobbing and lashing out at innocent people. If I was dying, I’d drag him down with me first…”

I couldn’t silence Vincent’s inflammatory words.

All I could do was watch Amara with growing anxiety, praying she’d absorb at least some of what he was saying.

Vincent’s approach was brutal, but he wasn’t wrong.

Amara remained frozen, her vacant stare fixed on nothing.

Something finally clicked. Her hand slowly dropped, fingers releasing the knife.

I quickly kicked the weapon aside, trying to conceal my injury, but Vincent caught my movement and immediately seized my bloodied hand in his firm grip.

He turned to Amara with sharp intensity. “Look, while you’re breathing, there’s still hope. Once you’re gone, it’s over–nothing gets fixed.”

Without another word, he dragged me from the room.

I stumbled behind him, my footing unsteady.

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Vincent moved with ruthless efficiency–hauling me into the elevator and out of the building complex,

giving me zero time to process what had just happened.

He marched me straight to the nearest medical clinic, demanding the doctor properly clean and dress my bleeding palm.

Inside the treatment room, I gritted my teeth as the doctor worked on my wound, my face contorting with each sharp sting. A soft whimper escaped despite my efforts to stay quiet.

Vincent watched my pained expression–something flickered across his features, but his words remained ruthless: “You made a stupid choice, so deal with the consequences.”

I shot him a withering glare, irritation written all over my face. “Vincent, you—”

He met my gaze head–on, his expression deadly serious and voice unwavering. “If you want to protect others, you need to start protecting yourself first.”

I fell silent, dropping my head in complete shame.

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After the doctor finished patching me up, Vincent handled the payment at reception.

We left in total silence, neither of us speaking.

Once we hit the street, Vincent leaned closer, unable to contain himself any longer. “Are you pissed at me?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not angry. You were absolutely right.”

Vincent could tell I was being genuine, but he didn’t want to keep hammering the point or make me feel

worse.

So he changed direction. “Kingsley’s staying with her,

so she’ll be fine.”

I nodded, feeling some of the tension ease. “Yeah.”

We continued walking side by side, both lost in our own thoughts.

The silence stretched between us for what felt like

forever.

Finally, Vincent stopped abruptly and faced me. “New Year’s Day is approaching. My mom wants to invite you to our house.”

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I shifted uncomfortably, hesitation clear in my voice. “I’ve got graduate entrance exams coming up, so while I really appreciate your mom’s invitation…”

Vincent cut through my excuse immediately. “The

exam is December 25th, and New Year’s Day is January

1st. Where’s the conflict?”

I knew Vincent was relentless–there was no point dancing around this with him.

After a moment’s consideration, I replied, “We’ll see

when the time comes.”

Vincent saw right through my evasive maneuver and wasn’t buying it. “If you try to dodge this, I’ll personally drag you there myself.”

I remained quiet.

Suddenly, excited cheers erupted from somewhere ahead of us.

A massive crowd had formed, with lights flashing wildly everywhere. People were shouting and buzzing with energy, though neither of us could figure out what was happening.

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Instinctively, we pushed through the throng to get a

better view.

Standing at the top of the riverbank steps, we looked down to see an elaborate proposal setup below.

Pink flowers blanketed the area, with an enormous screen displaying a montage of romantic memories, while balloons and ribbons danced in the breeze.

The man was approaching the woman, his arms overflowing with roses.

The moment she accepted the bouquet, he grabbed the microphone.

Surrounded by cheering friends and family, he poured out his love and vowed to spend forever by her side.

“Baby, standing here before you tonight, I might look reckless or even clumsy, but I can’t let this moment slip away. I need you to know how deeply I love you, and I want to marry you—to build a simple, beautiful life together.”

“Will you marry me, sweetheart?”

The instant he finished, the crowd exploded in

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celebration.

Everyone began chanting, “Say yes! Say yes!”

The woman’s face flushed crimson, and with everyone urging her on, she finally nodded, her voice quiet but firm: “Yes, I will.”

He tenderly slid the ring onto her finger, and they embraced and kissed while the crowd’s cheers grew even more thunderous.

I stood at the top of the river steps, taking in every moment of the romantic scene playing out below.

The touching atmosphere overwhelmed me–my eyes began stinging with unshed tears before I could stop them, and soon they were streaming down my face.

Witnessing this brought back memories of my five–year marriage to Zain. I had always been the one making the effort, reaching out–he never once surprised me or made anything feel meaningful.

There hadn’t even been basic reciprocity between us.

Vincent couldn’t bear seeing me cry. He leaned in and whispered, “Why the tears? Trust me, what’s waiting

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for you in the future is infinitely better than this- you’re going to have everything someday.”

I quickly brushed at my cheeks, turning as if to leave, but the moment I pivoted, my eyes collided with Zain’s across the sea of people—an unexpected, electric

moment of recognition.

Zain stood somewhere in the crowd, but somehow his gaze found me through all the chaos–as if I were the only person he could see.

Despite the masses between us, our eyes connected, blocking out everything else for that single, suspended

moment.

No words passed between us–but my cheeks were streaked with tears, my eyes filled with pain and yearning.

Zain, however, remained cold and detached, his expression completely unreadable—as if I were just another face in the crowd.

Vincent noticed my sudden stillness and followed my line of sight, curious about what had captured my

attention.

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The second he spotted Zain, Vincent switched into protective mode, immediately stepping in front of me and breaking our eye contact.

Not satisfied with that, Vincent wrapped his arm around my waist without hesitation, pulling me tight against his side.

With that bold gesture, he was marking his territory— sending an unmistakable signal to Zain: I belonged to him, and he wasn’t going to let anyone forget it.

Zain absorbed the entire display. He didn’t appear angry–just allowed a faint, contemptuous smile to play at his lips.

I didn’t pull away from Vincent, but my gaze remained fixed on Zain–I could see the disdain and mockery flickering in his eyes, deliberate enough that he wanted me to notice.

Every trace of his silent ridicule pierced straight through me, like a knife twisting in my chest.

The proposal ceremony finally ended, and the crowd slowly began to disperse.

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Just then, Drew Stewart approached from nearby.

As he reached Zain, his eyes immediately found me and Vincent standing together across the way, the atmosphere crackling with unspoken confrontation.

Tension ignited instantly between all of us, like someone had just lit a fuse.

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