Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 93: Rivals

Chelsea’s words landed badly.

Not dramatic. Just... wrong. Like something slipping into place where it shouldn’t.

Zane didn’t turn to her. Didn’t ask her to repeat herself. His face didn’t change much either, but his hands did. His fingers curled slowly, until his nails bit into his palms.

He welcomed the sting. It grounded him, made him focused, made him not to lash out because of the memory that slid into his mind then.

The moment he had witnessed three days ago. One he would have given anything not to witness.

The hall came back to him in fragments. The shine of the floor. Voices echoing too much. The way he had already been irritated—annoyed enough to stop an actress he barely knew, tell her he was one of Areso’s friends, ask where Areso was.

A stupid thing. He had regretted it barely thirty seconds later.

Seeing Noah and Gianna had been too damning a sight...

His chest tightened just thinking about it.

He hadn’t meant to slow after the door opened, but he had. Had stood there like a fool, watching, noting Noah’s hands on her waist like it had always belonged there.

And her face...

Zane swallowed.

It hadn’t been just the kiss...

That was the lie he told himself sometimes. That the kiss was the problem. It wasn’t.

People kissed. People moved on. He could have swallowed that, buried it, laughed it off later with something bitter and strong.

It was her eyes. Undone. Soft. Wanting.

That look—that was what made him see red. That was what still made his fists itch, made him want to punch walls, break things, wreck something just to make the feeling stop.

She had wanted the kiss, had enjoyed it, had craved more of it.

Zane cursed under his breath now, the sound low. He pushed to his feet so abruptly his chair scraped loudly against the floor.

Chelsea looked up. "Zane?"

He was already walking, without saying goodbyes.

He passed through the outer room without a word too, barely aware of Athena and Areso watching him go.

The elevator ride down felt endless and too short at the same time.

When the doors opened, frustration still buzzing under his skin, he stepped out—and froze.

Noah.

Zane shut his eyes for a split second and swore silently. He had forgotten about the back exits. Just walked straight out like an idiot.

He angled his body to pass, refusing to acknowledge his rival.

Noah’s hand shot out. Flat against Zane’s chest. Not violent though. Just enough pressure to stop him.

Zane looked down at the hand slowly, then back up. His face was calm now, blank even, but something cold slid into place behind his eyes.

"Where are you coming from?" Noah asked.

Zane lifted a brow. "Since when does that concern you? Since when do I answer to you?"

Noah smiled, slow and sharp. "Brave now, are we?"

Zane let out a short breath through his nose, but said nothing.

Noah’s gaze lingered, evaluating. "You’ve changed," he said. "From that scrawny kid back in high school to this. Guess money really does wonders."

Zane’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing still. He stepped to the side again.

Noah blocked him.

"What do you want?" Zane asked, voice flat.

"For you to stay away from Gianna," Noah said easily. "Whatever happened between you two is done. Let her move on."

Something in Zane snapped—but not outwardly. He sighed, slow and exaggerated, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck like he was tired of the conversation.

"You should fix your insecurity somewhere else," he said. "It’s embarrassing."

Noah’s face changed instantly. Anger flashed hot and unguarded. His hands curled into fists.

Zane noticed. Of course he did.

A faint smile tugged at his mouth. "You want to fight?"

Noah didn’t answer.

Zane leaned in just enough for his words to sink in. "Funny thing—Gianna doesn’t believe I was behind the accident. Not even a little."

He tilted his head. "Maybe she still trusts me."

The punch came fast.

Zane dodged without thinking, muscle memory kicking in. Hence, Noah’s fist cut through air, while he laughed—almost incredulous.

"Predictable," he muttered, already turning away.

He walked off without looking back.

Noah stood there, chest rising too fast, anger buzzing under his skin. He became aware of the people watching, the hush, phones halfway lifted.

A fight would only make things worse, he chastised himself. And Gianna wouldn’t like that.

—

By the time Noah entered the elevator again, his breathing had steadied. The mask slid into place naturally. It always did.

When he entered the room upstairs, he exchanged low greetings, nodded to Athena, returned Areso’s smile. The tension eased just a little when Areso told him Gianna was awake.

He moved faster then, his happiness evidenced to the women watching him.

In the room, Gianna was still propped against the pillows. And when she saw him, her lips curved into a small smile.

That smile did things to him.

He crossed the room and kissed her forehead, lingering just a second longer. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she said. "Better." Then, softer, "How about you?"

He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes tracing her face, memorizing the way she looked right now. "I’m fine."

She looked at him, waiting.

"I’m really fine, beauty..." he repeated when she didn’t look convinced.

A pause.

"Have you seen Zane?" he asked.

The reaction was tiny—but it was there. A flicker, quickly hidden.

"Yes. Did something happen?"

Noah held back a retort, anger rising with him again. "But how could you? He is possibly behind the accident. You shouldn’t be letting him into your space... he is dangerous."

But Giana shook her head. "No. Zane wasn’t behind it."

Noah stared at her.

"What?" The word slipped out before he could stop it.

"I don’t believe it," she said quietly. "Not him. He wouldn’t descend that low. He would have my family to contend with."

Something uneasy settled in Noah’s chest. He looked away, fingers gripping the sheet beneath his hand.