The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 36

36 Chapter 36 A Match To Gasoline

36 Chapter 36 A Match To Gasoline

Blanche’s POV

After being away for a while, I finally stepped back into Alexander Villa.

Thad one purpose for returning–clearing Demetrius’s name.

Someone with Demetrius’s medical brilliance deserved better than having his career destroyed, especially not on my account.

Zain wasn’t home when I arrived.

Mrs. Hank practically glowed when she spotted me after my extended absence.

“Mrs. Jacob, you’ve come back at last,” she said, warmth flooding her voice.

I managed a weak smile. “Yes.”

“Mrs. Jacob, I stocked up on fresh groceries. How about preparing dinner?” Mrs. Hank suggested.

The afternoon stretched ahead, giving us plenty of time.

Zain had been maintaining regular hours these past months, and Mrs. Hank expected tonight would be no different.

Sensing the tension between us, she hoped a home–cooked meal might bridge the gap.

I understood her intentions but smiled anyway. “Mrs. Hank, you take care of it. You know what I like and what doesn’t agree with me.”

Mrs. Hank looked taken aback. “Mrs. Jacob, are you certain…?”

“Handle the arrangements, but keep it simple,” I said.

I used to prepare everything myself, but none of it had mattered–Zain never valued the effort.

Mrs. Hank frowned in confusion, and I could tell she thought I was acting like a completely different person.

After mulling it over in the kitchen, she decided to phone Zain.

“Mr. Jacob, Mrs. Jacob has returned. She’s preparing dinner in the kitchen–just waiting for you to get home.”

I knew she was telling a harmless lie, perhaps hoping a meal might help us patch things up, since we were still husband and wife with a

child

Zain was pulling late hours at the office when the call interrupted him.

The news of my return to Alexander Villa clearly caught him off guard, his demeanor suggested he hadn’t expected me to come back.

After hanging up, he powered down his computer and headed out.

When he entered the main hall, I was coming down from the second floor.

Our eyes met, but no happiness crossed my features, and I didn’t rush to help with his coat like before,

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36 Chapter 36 A Match To Gasoline

Instead, I walked silently downstairs and settled at the dining table.

Zain shed his coat, placed it on the entrance hook, and sat across from me.

Mrs. Hank emerged with the dishes, immediately picking up on the strained mood. She stayed silent.

“Mr. Jacob, Mrs. Jacob, please enjoy,” she murmured.

I glanced up at her. “Mrs. Hank, would you mind giving us privacy? I need to speak with my husband.”

Mrs. Hank forced a strained chuckle. “Certainly.”

After she left, I didn’t touch my utensils. Looking directly at Zain, I got straight to business. “Did you manipulate Drew into going after

Demetrius?”

From his expression, Zain seemed to recall Demetrius–the man I’d shared meals with recently–and perhaps even Drew’s promise to

‘handle this. I sensed he wasn’t clear on the specifics, or perhaps just feigning ignorance.

“What are you suggesting?” he asked, avoiding confirmation or denial.

His dodge confirmed my suspicions. I released a harsh laugh. “You’re disgusting.”

“Is that so? That’s your assessment?” Zain responded calmly.

“Isn’t it true?” I countered.

Over something as petty as Demetrius declining to share research with Joanna, Zain was prepared to destroy a brilliant mind.

Zain realized I hadn’t returned about the second child issue. I was here for Demetrius–pure and simple.

I saw annoyance flare in him, and his icy tone made me wonder what assumptions he was making about my relationship with Demetrius.

“You should have anticipated the fallout when you allowed him close.”

I never once considered that his anger might stem from jealousy.

This was Zain–he demanded control over everything.

As his wife, I was expected to remain within prescribed limits.

But I refused to be his marionette any longer.

“Demetrius and I have been friends for years. When did you gain the right to dictate my life?” I snapped back.

Watching me appear so confident and righteous, Zain felt irritation spike.

His tone turned arctic, his stare frozen. “So I should wait until you’re sharing his bed before I intervene?”

Thesitated, then released a bitter laugh. “Before pointing fingers at me, maybe examine yourself first”

Zain’s expression grew stormy. He stared at me, his eyes revealing a stark realization–as if he’d never seen this defiant, sharp–edged

version of me before, despite my recent shifts. I knew he had always assumed I was passive and pliant, but now, he seemed to finally

recognize the unyielding will I’d kept hidden.

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36 Chapter 36 A Match To Gasoline

After a loaded pause, Zain finally said, “So you returned just to tell me this?”

1 held steady. “Yes.”

Then, without wavering, I continued, “And what about Demetrius? Don’t you owe him an apology?”

Zain angled his head. “What exactly are you demanding?”

“Apologize to him,” I insisted. “And stop sabotaging his career.”

Zain examined me, his mouth twisting into a cold smile.

I searched his features for any clue to his thoughts, but his face revealed nothing.

“Alright,” Zain said, his voice dripping with scorn.

With calculated movements, he grabbed his phone and dialed–right before my eyes.

I watched, dread building in my chest.

Was he actually going to apologize, or was this another manipulation?

The call went through. Zain stood, the harsh overhead light outlining his frame, his face lost in darkness.

I strained to read him, but his expression stayed concealed.

Then his voice sliced through the quiet–brutal, ruthless. “Destroyed. I want Demetrius’s medical career destroyed. Make sure he never

practices medicine again. No–go beyond that. Ensure he can’t find work anywhere.”

I dove for the phone, but Zain seized my wrist in a crushing grip. I fought, but his hold was ironclad.

The moment he hung up, Zain dragged me against him, his massive frame blocking the light, trapping me in his shadow. His breath

scorched my skin–too near, too intense–and every nerve urged me to run.

But no matter how I struggled, I couldn’t break free.

“Well?” Zain whispered, his lips grazing my ear. “Satisfied now?”

I jerked my head away, eyes burning. “You’re revolting.”

He laughed, deep and mocking. “Strange. I don’t feel revolting.”

A casual shrug, as though destroying a life was meaningless.

It was clear to me that Zain saw brilliance as worthless, crushing a genius’s aspirations like autumn leaves, as if he derived satisfaction from destroying what others spent lifetimes pursuing.

My hand moved before I could stop it–skin meeting skin with a sharp crack, my palm burning from the impact.

It was the first time I’d ever struck him.

“Do you understand what you’ve done?” Zain froze. I saw his face twist, his fury igniting like gasoline as the impact hit him. Then,As if a circuit snapped, he grabbed my throat and forced me into the chair, his voice a deadly murmur. “You have no clue what you’ve just

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unleashed.”

My face flushed crimson, veins streaking my bloodshot eyes–but no tears fell. Only defiance remained.

Struggling for air, I gasped out, “I… pity myself… for ever loving you.”

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