Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 30: Fallout V

Zane went still at her words.

We don’t have murderers in the Aldo family.

The implication hit him again like a slap. His jaw tightened, breath freezing in his chest. She hadn’t said it directly, but she didn’t need to. The shadow of his father lay heavy—always heavy—on his name.

He cursed the dead man silently, cursed him for dragging their family through blood and ruin, for leaving him with a tainted legacy he could never scrub off. A stain he never asked for. A stain that followed him into every room, into every conversation—including this one.

For a moment, he wished that things were different. That his father had been different. That he wasn’t always cleaning up a ghost’s mess.

Zane sighed, pushing the depressing fog away. His hands, which had gone rigid, loosened and splayed out on the desk. "Until you have proof of that, Aldo, I suggest you stop mentioning it."

Gianna said nothing.

"Back to what I was saying..." he continued, voice regaining its edge. "I know your uncle wants your shares."

"And how would you know that?"

Zane shrugged. "Business. I’ve studied his patterns. I know he’ll come for you."

He already has. Gianna pressed her lips together, sealing them with an imaginary tape. Zane wasn’t someone she wanted to confide in.

"So the marriage will also protect you from that. I can even get the company for you if you want..."

She leaned forward now, gaze sharp. "And why would you do that for me? For my parents, who you thought were bloody leeches—shameless for making me date you then, for your money?"

Zane swallowed. "It’s mutually beneficial in the long run. Surely you can see that. We don’t have to live together." His nose lifted slightly at the thought, as if it were distasteful. "We can make an arrangement to that end..."

A pause. He studied her blank expression, trying to decipher something—anything—from it.

"It’s not too late to change your words," he said softly, "or we can pretend..."

Gianna remained mute.

She could see what he was saying. She could understand the benefits. With Zane’s backing, she could reclaim the company. She could pressure the evasive lawyer, get her grandfather’s will, rise faster in her field.

The possibilities dared to play out in her mind—glittering, tempting.

But...

Accepting would mean surrender. It would mean scraping away everything that had happened five years ago. It would mean bending, begging, relying on him.

If she ever reached that point, she would rather go to Athena. Or the Thornes. Anyone but him.

She didn’t need Zane. His offer only made her want to prove him wrong—prove she could climb without his help, build without leaning on him, rise without staining herself with anything tied to him.

Accepting his hand would feel like returning to vomit. And she wasn’t that person. Not anymore.

So she shook her head, slow and deliberate, pleased to see him furrow his brows in confusion.

He had expected her to jump at the offer. Most people would. No one liked stress. But for this? She would accept the stress—embrace the growth that came with it.

"No, Whitman. I wouldn’t be changing my words... not now, not ever. Even if death was staring me in the face."

Zane was nonplussed. Then embarrassed—for trying to convince her, for trying to help her.

His fault. He chastised himself harshly. He had attempted to build some kind of bridge—whatever madness that was.

What was wrong with him? He wondered for the umpteenth time, schooling his expression into a cold mask.

"If you say so, then. Enjoy your ride to the top." He opened his laptop, effectively dismissing her.

Pride intact, Gianna rose to her feet and strolled out of the office confidently, without any parting words. There was no need for one.

Outside the office, she met a commotion—the secretaries trying to keep three bimbos from storming inside.

His bedmates... or girlfriends? Gianna wondered, noting how the three women were also fighting between themselves. But when they saw her, they hissed, instantly bonding over their mutual hatred and stepping toward her.

"Touch me and get sued," Gianna said without preamble when they were within earshot. "If you haven’t, I suggest you check the news. We are just friends of friends. Your boyfriend is still available to you." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

The three bimbos paused, staring between each other and Gianna as if unsure what to make of her. Before they could decide, she had already strolled past them, her gait composed.

Just as promised, the Thorne guards waited in the lobby.

"I’m sorry if I took too long..."

"No problem, Miss Gianna. We understand."

She nodded weakly. They repeated the earlier motions, forming a semi-circle around her till she entered her car and shut the door.

She exhaled loudly as she kicked on the ignition, ready to return to the Beckett’s company and face her fate.

"Miss Gianna, where have you been?!" The petty receptionist burst out as soon as Gianna entered the office space, rising from her seat. "The superiors have been asking for you..."

"Haven’t you seen the recent news... the interview?" Gianna asked.

The receptionist shook her head. "I’ve been busy with these... orders coming in..."

Gianna frowned, walking closer. "What orders?"

The receptionist showed her the tablet.

Gianna’s frown deepened when she saw one of the designs she’d been working on for the convention displayed on the website.

"What is the meaning of this? Who has been in my office?!"

The receptionist shook under her glare. "It was... it was..."

Gianna opened her mouth to call out the receptionist’s name—then realized she didn’t even know it.

"What’s your name?"

"Lottie."

Lottie? What sort of name was that? A shortcut? A nickname? No matter.

"Well, Lottie, speak up!" she snapped. No time for the frivolity of names. "Who is behind this?!"

"Well... when the news came out, the superiors were wondering what to make of it, how best to handle it, considering you’re an employee... so I heard that..." Lottie swallowed.

"You heard what?"

"That Sir Richard..."

"From marketing?"

Lottie nodded quickly. "Yes. He suggested we put up one of your designs."

A pause. "With all the digging from the press, they found out you worked for the Becketts now, so it drew traction. Coverage. We noticed a spike in the visitors to our website in the past hour. It was sporadic. Frantic. So, Sir Richard suggested we take advantage of the situation... that we put up one of your newest designs for pre-order."