Chapter 226.
Courtesy of being Zane’s wife, I barely have to ask before chips are placed in front of me. The dealer gives me a polite nod as a neat stack is pushed my way.
"For you, ma’am."
A few of the men at the table exchange amused glances. One chuckles.
I smile sweetly, picking up my drink.
I’m already locked in, because now it isn’t just curiosity. It’s competition.
The cards are dealt smoothly, the soft flick of each one against the velvet table making my pulse sharpen with excitement.
First round.....i play cautiously, looking a little uncertain and hesitant.
I let my brows furrow slightly, pretending to think harder than I need to and just as planned..... i lose.
One man grins, another smirks.
"Oh, sweetheart," one says with fake sympathy, "you’ll get it."
I give them a soft, almost embarrassed laugh.
"Beginner’s luck, I guess."
Second round...Same thing, I fumble just enough and miss just enough then Lose again.
Their confidence grows immediately, so much that I can practically feel it.
The way they relax and they start assuming.
The way their eyes say easy money, exactly what I want. Because by the third roun...It’s showtime.
The cards land and I glance once, twice and thenhen calmly place my bet higher. A few eyebrows rise...Interesting.
The game moves quickly as tension builds.
One by one, they start dropping out. Until...i win.
The pile slides toward me...a much larger pile
I smile brightly.
"Oh."
I tilt my head innocently.
"Did I do that right?"
The expressions around the table shift to confusion and mild irritation.
I almost laugh.
LFourth round? Mine again.
Fifth? Still mine.
Sixth? Another clean win.
Now...The atmosphere has changed completely, no more smug amusement.
Now they’re watching me carefully. But they can’t see anything, I learnt pretty well from my brothers. And the money stacked in front of me?Beautiful.
I can’t help it, I’m having entirely too much fun.
"Oh my God," I mutter, laughing softly as I gather more chips. "This is amazing."
"You’ve played before," one man accuses.
I widen my eyes.
"Me?"
I place a hand dramatically over my chest.
"I’m just getting lucky."
They don’t fully buy it now. Good. That makes it even better.
The next round, I intentionally overplay and lose, enough to keep them from walking away and to make them think they still have a chance
I lean back slightly, adrenaline buzzing pleasantly under my skin.
I’m so focused...so absorbed in the thrill, the cards, the wins, the growing pile in front of me...That I barely notice someone new sliding into the seat beside me.
A little too comfortable and then....a hand slides up Resting on my open thigh.
My body goes rigid instantly, every muscle tightening in sharp, immediate anger.
What the hell? My head snaps toward him so fast it nearly makes my neck ache as pure fury rises before I can even speak, slap him or can rip his hand off myself.....a voice cuts through the entire table like a blade in the most terrifying way possible.
"Take your filthy hands off my wife..."
Silence crashes over the table as every single person stills and my breath catches. Because I know that voice and judging by the sudden fear flooding the man beside me.....so does everyone else.
I slowly turn and there he is.Zane.....he’s standing there, looking absolutely lethal.
His expression is calm.....Too calm, the dangerous kind. The kind that means violence is already being calculated.
His eyes aren’t on me, they’re locked entirely on the man touching me and somehow,...That makes it even more terrifying.
"Before," Zane says, his voice dropping lower, sharper, "I chop off your hands.
The man jerks his hand off me so fast it’s almost pathetic as his face drains instantly. His face full of fear, panic and Pure, immediate regret.
"I....I’m sorry...."
But apparently he didn’t take it off fast enough or Zane just doesn’t care, bcause Zane doesn’t even hesitate as His fist connects with the man’s face so violently that the crack echoes across the entire table and gasps erupt around us. The chair beside me topples backward as the man is thrown sideways, blood already spilling from his mouth.
"Oh my God...
Before anyone can fully react.....Zane hits him again and again....And again with no restraint. Just brutal, controlled violence.
The kind that makes it horrifyingly clear....this is not a man losing his temper, this is a man delivering punishment. The guy barely even gets the chance to defend himself when another punch hits him with a sickening grunt as blood splatters across the polished floor and the people at nearby tables stop entirely.
The whole section seems frozen but no one dares interfere. Because Zane right now?He looks absolutely murderous.
"Touch..."
Punch.
".....my....."
Punch.
"....wife...."
Another devastating blow
"....again."
The man is barely conscious now with his face is swollen, bloodied, and limp beneath the assault.
And suddenly....The reality of how far this could go slams into me.
"Zane!"
He doesn’t stop.
"Zane!"
Still nothing, his rage is terrifying.. and if I don’t step in....i genuinely don’t know if he’ll kill him
I shove my chair back and rush forward, grabbing his arm with both hands.
"Zane!"
This tim.....Finally...He stops.
His chest rising and falling heavily, his fists are bloodied. His jaw is clenched so tightly I think it might crack and for one tense second, I’m not even sure he fully hears me.
Then slowly....Very slowly....He straightens and th man collapses in a growning heap.
Still alive .....Thankfully.
Zane adjusts his cuffs like he didn’t just nearly beat someone to death.
And somehow....That calmness after such brutality is even scarier.
The room is dead silent as no one moves or speaks.
Zane slowly turns his gaze toward the stunned table. Then, with maddening composure, he says:
"My apologies, gentlemen." Referring to the people at the table, his tone is smooth and polished, like this is some minor inconvenience.
"Please," he says, adjusting his sleeve, "carry on with your game."
I blink. Because what? The sheer absurdity of it nearly leaves me speechless.
He almost murders a man....Then politely tells everyone to continue? Unbelievable and somehow still very, very Zane.
Without another word, his hand clamps firmly around my wrist decisively.
Oh no.
"Zane...."
"Office."
That one word alone tells me everything....im in deep shit. I barely have time to grab a breath before he’s already dragging me away from the table. My heels struggle to keep up slightly as he leads me through the club with lethal purpose. I can practically feel the tension radiating off him.
He is furious and honestly? I can’t really blame him.
"Zane....."
"Not. One word."
I immediately shut up. Because noted.
We reach the private staircase quickly, and he practically hauls me upstairs.. and straight down the hallway to his office.
The moment we’re inside....the door slams shut behind us with enough force to make me jump and suddenly...It’s just me and my terrifyingly possessive husband alone.
His office door slams so hard behind us that the sound practically shakes the walls.
For a second.... I just stand there, breathing hard with my heart pounding.
Not entirely from fear Mostly adrenaline because this man is furious.
I whirl around immediately, jerking my wrist from his grip.
"Why are you acting insane?!"
Zane turns so sharply it almost makes me take a step back.
His jaw is tight, his eyes blazing.
"Why," he snaps, voice low and sharp enough to cut, "are you freakishly stubborn?"
I blink. Excuse me?
"I tell you to stay fucking put," he continues, stepping closer, "and you do the exact opposite."
I instinctively lift my chin, refusing to be cowed.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
My mouth drops open. Oh, absolutely not.
"You cannot just tell me to stay put like I’m some fucking dog, Zane!"
His nostrils flare.
"I will not....."
Before I can even finish....He curses under his breath.
"Fuck!."
And then....Everything happens at once as hs hand grips my throat, not enough to hurt but enough to completely halt my words and enough to shock me into silence.
My back hits the wall and before my brain can even process what’s happening....His mouth crashes against mine., Hard.
Every thought in my head disappears....gone
Completely.
Because this isn’t gentle or soft.
This is pure, overwhelming frustration colliding into something far more dangerous.
His kiss is punishing and demanding, like he’s trying to make a point I’m too breathless to understand. My fingers instinctively grab his shirt, not to push him away.
God no.
To steady myself because my knees actually weaken. Which feels deeply inconvenient.
His hand remains firm at my neck, tilting my head exactly where he wants it.
I hate how immediate my body’s response is, how fast anger blurs and how quickly fury turns into heat. Because one second I’m ready to scream at him.... And the next....
I can barely think.
His other hand braces against the wall beside my head, effectively caging me in, each inch of him feels overwhelming.
The scent of him, the sheer intensity and somehow...That frustration in him?
It’s still there, I can feel it in every movement.
Like he’s still angry and he is channeling it here...Into this.
When he finally pulls back.....It’s barely an inch. Barely enough for air.
My chest is rising far too fast, my lips feel swollen.
My thoughts? Absolutely useless.
His forehead nearly rests against mine as he breathes heavily and his voice....God.
"You," he says, each word deliberate, "are going to be the death of me."