The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 303

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Blanche’s POVO

I spun around to exit the lounge.

I’d only managed a couple of steps when Zain’s voice rang out behind me. “Blanche, wait.”

His call made me pick up my pace.

But Zain moved faster than I could reach the door. His hand caught my arm, and suddenly I was pressed against the wall.

Once again, I found myself trapped under Zain’s dominance.

This time though, he didn’t push further—just held me there, making sure I felt his power over me.

He leaned down, our eyes meeting, his voice brooking no argument. “Turn around.”

Those two words instantly flooded my mind with memories of all the times he’d given me that same command in bed.

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And it had happened more than once.

My thoughts spiraled into decidedly wicked territory.

I stayed put, eyeing him with suspicion.

Zain offered no explanation. His hands gripped my shoulders, spinning me around so my back faced him.

Before I could object, Zain spoke. “I’m not the monster you think I am. Your coat belt came undone–I’m just fixing it.”

That’s when it hit me what he was doing.

I remained quiet while Zain retied my belt.

His movements were smooth and efficient, securing it with a few swift motions.

I couldn’t help thinking, ‘He’s probably done this for Joanna countless times.‘

When he finished, Zain said, “There.”

Then he couldn’t resist reaching up to smooth my hair, which had gotten tousled from my nap.

Only when he was satisfied did he finally drop his hand.

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I didn’t respond immediately, so Zain added, “Desmond delivered lunch. Let’s go eat.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I nodded. “Alright.”

We left the lounge together, one behind the other.

Desmond had delivered a banquet–every dish imaginable spread across the table.

With just Zain and me eating, there was obviously far more food than two people could handle.

The moment we sat down, Zain started loading my plate with food, creating a small mountain before he stopped and said, “Eat.”

I avoided his gaze, responding quietly, “Thank you.”

Zain’s phone buzzed with an incoming call.

He checked the screen–a WhatsApp video call from Joanna,

Without hesitation, he answered.

The moment the call connected, Joanna’s bright voice filled the air. “Zain, are you having lunch?”

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Zain held up his bowl for her to see. “Yeah, eating

now.”

Joanna flipped her camera to show the meal setup at Blissfield Villa. “Look, we’re eating too. We have all this, plus Carry’s favorite meatballs.”

Zain ate while keeping his eyes locked on Joanna’s image on the screen.

I tuned out most of their conversation, but I could tell they were discussing everything under the sun.

From future work schedules to morning breakfast details–no topic was off–limits.

Joanna shared whatever crossed her mind with Zain, always finding new things to discuss.

Zain didn’t seem bothered by her constant chatter–if anything, he was completely engaged, absorbing every word.

By the time we finished eating, I barely glanced at

Zain. I gathered my things and announced, “I want to take a walk.”

Zain immediately jumped in. “I’ll come with you.”

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I wanted to refuse, but Zain made it clear he was

joining me regardless of my preference.

Eventually, I just accepted it.

The Jacob Group sat in the heart of downtown, with a massive shopping center right across the street.

Since I had no particular destination in mind, I simply

crossed over to the mall.

We entered a clothing boutique, and I tried on several

pieces.

Zain approved of everything, telling the sales associate, “We’ll take them all.”

I didn’t protest–just let Zain handle the payment.

After finishing at that store, I wandered into another shop and added over a dozen outfits to my fitting list.

Zain waited outside when Desmond’s call came through.

I could see the internal struggle playing across his features—work demands weighing against this rare opportunity to do something different with me.

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After some deliberation, Zain finally answered Desmond’s call.

Clearly, this was some urgent business matter requiring his immediate attention.

I emerged from the fitting room, checked myself in the mirror, and decided I looked presentable. Without delay, I told the sales associate, “I’ll take all of these.”

If I didn’t spend Zain’s money now, when would I get another chance?

Throughout our entire marriage, I’d hardly touched his finances.

No way was I walking away empty–handed after everything.

Since the divorce wasn’t finalized yet, I was determined to spend every dollar possible–I refused to shortchange myself.

Zain ended his call and stood up, saying to me, “I might need to return to the office.”

His words instantly erased the smile from my face.

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The sales associate, who’d been about to package all those clothes, froze when she heard Zain mention

leaving.

All those outfits would probably cost over $150,000—a

serious sum.

Looking at me, the sales associate probably doubted I could afford all that on my own.

And the man beside me–the one with the actual money–chose that exact moment to announce he had to get back to work.

So the sales associate hesitated, worried she’d end up with nothing after all her effort.

Not only did the sales associate assume Zain was abandoning me, but I figured that’s exactly what he

meant too.

He didn’t mention returning to work earlier or later- just had to bring it up right when the bill was about to hit.

Before I could say anything, Zain pulled a card from his pocket and pressed it into my palm.

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“Take this. Buy whatever you want. I’m heading back to the office–I’ll pick you up later.”

It was a black card, and both the sales associate and I stared in amazement. That type of card wasn’t something you encountered daily.

I didn’t even consider returning it–I pocketed it instantly. ‘No way am I missing this opportunity, I thought.

I flashed Zain a radiant smile. “Okay.”

Seeing my smile, Zain reached out and patted my head gently, his voice filled with tender affection. “If only you could always be this agreeable.”

I didn’t respond–stayed silent, my thoughts churning but my lips sealed.

The sales associate watched Zain being so gentle with me, envy and jealousy rising in her chest. ‘Why can’t my life be like hers?‘ she wondered.

Before leaving, Zain pulled me into a hug and planted a soft kiss on my forehead, then walked away.

After watching Zain disappear, I turned to the sales

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associate and declared, “I want to try on every single outfit you have.”

I wasn’t trying to cause problems for anyone—I genuinely wanted to drain Zain’s account, plain and simple.

‘If I don’t spend it now, he’ll probably just waste it all on Joanna later anyway, I thought, a small smile playing on my lips.

‘Might as well indulge myself while I can–after all these years of giving my heart, I absolutely deserve this,‘ I silently convinced myself.

The moment the staff realized I was a high–value customer, they swarmed around me, competing to provide VIP service.

I’d tried on quite a few pieces, and honestly, none of them really impressed me. Still, I told the sales associate, “Package them up anyway.”

I didn’t care how exhausted I was–I just kept going in the fitting room, trying on outfit after outfit.

Then someone knocked softly on the fitting room

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door.

No one spoke outside, but I assumed it was probably just the sales associate, so I cracked the door slightly.

There was a curtain hanging outside the fitting room, and without bothering to see who was actually there, I simply returned to trying on clothes.

The next instant, I felt a sudden chill behind me–and in a flash, two large hands wrapped around my waist, fingers interlocking over my stomach.

Before I could react, I was pulled back against a scorching chest that seemed determined to absorb me completely.

My back pressed against him, the heat radiating from his body so intense it felt like he wanted to merge me

into his embrace.

I struggled slightly, but the man behind me just rested his chin on my shoulder, his voice rough and weary as he murmured, “Don’t move. Let me hold you, just for a

moment.”

It was Vincent—and unlike his usual deep, steady tone,

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now his voice was exhausted and full of fatigue.

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