The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 290

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Another

Zain’s POV

My roar cuts through the dinner conversation like a blade, sending ice through everyone at the table.

Even Drew and Nicholas, who’ve seen me lose it plenty of times, go completely still.

They both glance my way, shock mixing with worry in their eyes as they take in my bleeding hand.

Blanche sits beside me, startled by my outburst, but her face stays perfectly neutral–no smile, no anger, nothing.

The entire table falls silent, everyone backing down from my fury.

But Drew’s anger only builds. Finally, he snaps back at me, “You’re really going to turn on your own brother over some woman who doesn’t even matter to you?”

I don’t back down, locking eyes with him, my voice

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ice–cold. “Blanche is mine. Anyone who disrespects her disrespects me.”

Drew stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Zain, do you hear yourself?”

All these years, I’ve never defended Blanche like this.

No wonder he’s shocked.

Even Nicholas looks stunned.

We’ve been married five years, and I’ve never lost my temper over her like this—especially not against Drew.

I refuse to budge, keeping my voice steady and cold. “I know exactly what I’m saying.”

Blood continues dripping from my wounded hand, forming a dark stain on the white tablecloth.

But Blanche’s expression doesn’t change at all when she sees my bleeding hand.

She’s a doctor–she could at least show some concern. But she doesn’t. She won’t even glance at my injury, not for a second.

The thought hits me like a punch to the gut.

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Pain stabs through my chest. I grab a handful of napkins and press them clumsily against the wound.

Drew and Nicholas both catch Blanche’s complete lack of reaction, shock and disbelief written all over their

faces.

Before, Blanche would’ve practically thrown herself at me, grabbing my injured hand like her life depended

on it.

Now, she won’t even move.

The tension hangs thick in the air until Nicholas finally speaks up to break it. “Alright, everyone–let’s get back to dinner. No point sitting here all uncomfortable.”

Seeing I’m hurt, Drew manages to swallow his anger.

But after a couple drinks, he can’t help shooting Blanche cold looks across the table.

Suddenly, Drew’s face lights up with a sly grin. He raises his glass toward Blanche, his tone mocking. “Since Zain made it clear you’re his wife–and it’s Nicholas’s birthday–shouldn’t you toast the birthday boy?”

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Nicholas immediately kicks Drew hard under the table.

Drew just shifts his leg away without even looking at Nicholas.

Blanche knows Drew’s deliberately putting her on the spot. Without hesitation, she looks straight at him and says coldly, “Sorry, I’m not drinking these days.”

Drew’s face darkens instantly. “Oh? Big sis, you really not gonna show me any respect?”

He practically spits out “big sis,” making sure everyone hears the challenge.

Blanche doesn’t bother explaining further. She glances at Drew and replies coolly, “Whatever you say.”

That sets Drew off completely. He barks, “Blanche, don’t think just because Zain has your back, you can push us around. Take a look in the mirror–do you really think you’re all that?”

Blanche actually laughs, her tone frosty and mocking. “What’s wrong, Drew? Starting to lose your cool?”

Drew’s completely losing it. Nobody ever talks back to him like that—especially not Blanche.

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He’s always been the one stirring up trouble. Nobody’s ever had the guts to challenge him.

And she’s doing it right in front of everyone.

Unable to take it another second, Drew hurls his glass straight at Blanche’s face.

But I’m faster. I throw up my arm and block the glass before it can hit her.

The glass crashes against my arm, numbing it instantly.

Even I can barely stand the pain–Blanche never would’ve survived a hit like that.

Drew threw it with everything he had.

When I deflect the glass, Drew blurts out anxiously,

“Zain, you-”

Before he can say another word, I pull Blanche straight into my arms, holding her close.

At the same time, I shoot Drew a look that could freeze hell over, my words cutting like ice. “Get out.”

Drew’s lips tremble. After standing there stunned for a

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long moment, he finally explodes, shouting, “Fine! I’ll go! But Zain, don’t come crying to me when you regret

this!”

As Drew grabs his coat and heads for the door,

Nicholas jumps up and catches his arm. “Drew, what are you doing?”

Drew spins around, eyes blazing. “He told me to get out! What am I supposed to do, stick around for more insults?”

Nicholas frowns, trying to keep the peace. “Don’t lose it, Drew. Zain didn’t mean it that way.”

Drew tears his arm free. “He meant exactly what he said. He’s the one losing it, not me.”

With that, Drew storms out of the private room.

Nicholas starts to follow, but I cut him off with a frosty tone, still holding Blanche. “What, you’re not having cake now?”

Nicholas pauses, worry etched on his face as he looks toward the door.

I shoot back, “Blanche put a lot of effort into making

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that cake. If you’re not eating it, then you can get out

too.”

With no choice, Nicholas clenches his jaw and sits back down.

Blanche leans into me, and I catch the sharp, metallic scent of blood from my hand–but she barely reacts.

My injury is just glass cuts; sure, it’s bleeding heavily, but it’s nothing serious.

She straightens up, her face unreadable, then quietly goes back to eating like nothing happened.

Watching Blanche continue to completely ignore me, I feel a sudden twist of pain in my chest that I can’t push down.

With my injured hand, I can’t even hold chopsticks, let alone help Blanche with food.

But I notice she keeps eating only the few dishes in front of her, so I finally turn to Nicholas. “Nicholas, put some food on Blanche’s plate.”

Nicholas looks taken aback, even more surprised than before.

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Still, Nicholas doesn’t mind Blanche, so when I ask him, it doesn’t seem strange–especially since I’m hurt.

Nicholas hesitates for a second, then finally agrees. “Okay.”

He starts picking out dishes one by one, piling all sorts of food onto Blanche’s plate.

He only stops when her plate looks like a small mountain.

Blanche gives him a small, polite smile. “Thanks, Mr. Griffin,” she says.

When I see the dishes are loaded with chili peppers, Blanche just picks at her food, barely touching it.

After dinner, Nicholas moves things along by bringing

out the cake to cut.

Nicholas’s still worried about Drew, so he rushes through the cake ceremony.

After making his wish, Nicholas starts cutting the cake.

He cuts the biggest slice and hands it to Blanche. “Big sis, this one’s yours.”

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Blanche takes the slice, her whole face lighting up with a warm, genuine smile for Nicholas. “Thanks,” she says.

I turn to watch her smile, and that little burst of happiness she shows someone else sends sharp pain through my chest.

It hurts way more than I thought it would.

She can still give Nicholas that beautiful smile, but for me—it’s like she’s forgotten how to smile at me. Not even a fake one, not anymore.

She doesn’t even care to pretend, not for me, not at

all.

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