Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 102: Discharged

"Let me get this straight, Gianna..."

Arthur’s voice over the phone was anything but pleased. It carried that clipped, polished edge he used in boardrooms and hostile interviews alike.

"You want me to give up my one chance of staying over the Whitmans in the jewellery industry? Is it because he is a friend of your friends too? Do you not care for your life, or the company’s image?"

Gianna pulled the phone slightly away from her ear and looked at Athena quizzically, brows knitting.

Athena, perched comfortably nearby, gave her a slow, exaggerated thumbs-up, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Gianna rolled her eyes, exhaled through her nose, and brought the phone back to her ear, before responding to Arthur Beckett.

"Arthur," she said evenly, though there was steel beneath the softness, "Zane is innocent. The accident was set up to look like he did it—to deliberately dampen his reputation."

She paused briefly, choosing her words. "I’m not sure why the attacker would want that outcome... but Zane is innocent. And as much as I agree with you on staying at the top of the industry, I don’t want to accuse an innocent man. This isn’t about my relationship with him, or our mutual friends. This is about doing what is right."

Silence answered her. Arthur thinking.

"Do you have proof then about who did it?" Arthur asked finally, his voice cooler now.

"And do you have proof that the Whitmans are not behind this?" he continued before she could speak. "Even if Zane isn’t responsible, it could be one of his employees. Maybe that stupid cousin of yours—the one who made a fool of herself at the convention."

Gianna had thought about that too. The possibility had lodged itself uncomfortably in her mind. But accidents. Death. Intent. She was finding it hard to reconcile those things with her extended family, no matter how fractured they were.

Yet who else would want her gone so badly? Who else would benefit? Who could have hired the X gang to do away with her?

"No, I don’t," she admitted quietly when Arthur called her name again, pulling her back from her thoughts.

"You see?" Arthur said, seizing the opening.

A pause followed, then his tone shifted, lower, protective. "Gianna, even if you don’t want to protect yourself, I have to protect you. You are my company’s treasure. We can’t have you being killed at the helm of success."

"And I understand that, Arthur," she replied, sincerity coloring every word. "I do. But Zane is innocent. So... Can you stop granting interviews and tweeting backlashes, at least? If you don’t want to speak on the matter?"

Another pause. Then, resigned, "Okay. Still, we need answers."

"I know," Gianna said, relief threading through her voice despite herself.

"On one condition."

Gianna raised a brow instinctively. Florence did the same. Athena mirrored them both, eyes bright with curiosity.

"Have dinner with my family," Arthur said. "Those two boys couldn’t get you to come, eh? Maybe you’ll listen to me."

Gianna laughed, genuine and surprised. Arthur Beckett was a businessman through and through.

"Alright then," she agreed. "I’ll come. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Arthur sounded incredulous. "Aren’t you supposed to be recuperating in the hospital, my dear?"

Gianna shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. "I’ll rest at home. I’ve stayed enough at the hospital. And the faster we deal with the rumours and everything else, the better."

A slight pause. Then Arthur’s quiet, thoughtful "Okay" echoed through the line.

"So," Athena drawled the moment the call ended, "you’re having a family dinner with the Becketts. If that doesn’t scream union, I don’t know what does."

Gianna groaned softly, but Athena was smiling—relieved. At least Arthur would stop nailing Zane to the cross publicly. It had worried her. It had worried her husband even more.

"So Arthur is crossed out," Athena continued. "If we can get enough information from the captive tonight, we can run the news from tomorrow—or the next."

"Yes," Athena nodded to herself. "That can work."

The door opened then, interrupting them, revealing Sandro and Ewan.

Sandro hurried forward first, pulling Gianna into a careful hug before greeting everyone else. "I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier when you woke up..."

Gianna snorted. "I know you care, Sandro. And you have a lot of work. These two make sure of that on a daily basis."

Ewan laughed, stepping in to hug her next. "You should stop listening to Sandro’s lies. With us back, his workload has reduced dramatically—especially with the competent assistants he surrounded himself with."

Gianna chuckled, hugged Ewan back, then her eyes drifted to the door again, meeting Lucas’s.

"I found out," Lucas said quietly. "So I decided to come around."

He was holding Kendra’s hand. Kendra, who immediately rushed forward and hugged Gianna tightly, having been told her aunt was sick.

"How... are you feeling?"

"I’m fine, baby," Gianna said softly, then gestured to the bed. "Your friends are asleep."

Kendra nodded, then asked about Cairo. Gianna looked to Florence for the answer.

"She’s with Edwards," Florence said.

Right. Old Mr. Thorne was yet to return.

"Lucas, please come in," Gianna said, watching the man who still lingered by the door.

Unlike Athena, who had returned to familiarity with him, Gianna hadn’t quite moved past his betrayal. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been the one directly betrayed.

"Hey..." Lucas began. He had a lot to say. He always did. But Gianna had scared him even when they were children—her anger could be just as terrible as her laughter.

"Hey," Gianna replied.

An awkward silence settled. The others pretended not to notice. Or tried.

Lucas muttered feck it internally and stepped forward. To Gianna’s surprise, he hugged her lightly.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, then pulled back. "I’m sorry."

She knew the difference. The first was an apology. The second was consolation.

"It’s okay, Lucas. Thanks for coming," she said, accepting the flowers he handed her. "Where is Margaret?"

Lucas’s jaw tightened. She had her answer. Fiona.

"She went to see her daughter."

"I see..."

Gianna clapped her hands lightly, breaking the tension. "So—when are you all taking me home?"

"Right about now," Old Mr. Thorne’s voice drifted in from the open doorway. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Gramps," Gianna said with a smile, eager to leave the institution, eager to finally get answers.