Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 10: Lioness

"How dare you!!!"

Gianna all but growled like an aggrieved lioness as she stepped into Zane’s office.

Her heels struck the polished floor like weapon blows, echoing her mood. She didn’t even spare her surprised cousin a single glance, too blinded by fury to bother acknowledging anyone else.

"Are you that desperate to wreck my life, Whitman?"

Zane was shocked to say the least, but he wouldn’t be a Whitman if he let even a flicker show on his face. So, he sported his signature blank expression, the one that gave or accepted nothing, the one that made people second-guess themselves.

"You will have to be specific, Gianna. And no, I am not out for your life... you don’t even count as entertainment, not worth the attention... except you are here for a job?"

Sabrina snickered then, the ugly little sound slicing through the tension and alerting the pair to her unwelcome presence in the corner of the room.

"Get out," Zane stated without preamble, without a shred of patience.

The sharpness in his tone made Sabrina stop mid-laugh, her lips freezing awkwardly in place. She had been enjoying the look on her cousin’s face, the jab Zane had thrown, but one look at her boss’s expression and all that bravado drained out of her.

She had no choice but to leave. Not before sneering at Gianna, though—petty till the end.

Gianna still didn’t spare her a single glance. And a frustrated Sabrina finally left the office, heels clicking their indignation all the way to the hallway.

The moment the door shut, Gianna took out the cheque and stamped it onto Zane’s desk with a sound that echoed like a challenge.

"Explain this!"

Zane leaned forward, peered at the check, and, of course, was amused.

"What’s there to explain? Are you blind, woman? That’s a cheque of some million dollars sitting there. Are you here to gloat because..."

"Shut up, Whitman! Why did you get Dane to sign me a cheque? Why did you go after our company?"

Zane frowned, the blank slate slipping away. "Didn’t you hear me clearly this morning?"

Two confrontations in one day, after more than six months of managing to steer clear of each other. If this wasn’t fate playing some accursed game, he didn’t know what else. But he would be damned before he became the loser in whatever game this was.

"He wanted to sell because he wanted to travel..."

"If you are going to stick to that story, then you are dumber than I thought, so foolish as to think I fall in the same category as you... why will a simple trip make one sell his company?"

Zane shrugged. "I just saw a good deal and got it for myself. I don’t know what else you are talking about. Take your questions to Dane. He is your boss. He was the one that sold out the company."

"I just came from him, and he gave me a cheque." Gianna wanted to strangle the male in front of her for thinking he could play her for a fool. "A cheque I am sure you are behind too."

"Woman, I wouldn’t give you a cheque for naught."

A brief pause, followed by a dismissive wave of his hand. "If you are done with your ramblings, you can leave my office. And don’t come barging in here like that again... you are lucky this time around because Athena wouldn’t want me throwing her best friend out of the company like a criminal."

Gianna wanted to throw something, anything. His paperweight, his laptop, his smug face against the desk. Instead, she clamped her teeth, picked the cheque off the table, and swallowed her rage whole.

"You are bent on ruining my life, right?"

Zane sighed, terribly exhausted with this topic. "I have no time for this. If you want a job that bad, send your applications to..."

"I would rather die than work for you, Whitman."

Zane ignored the uncomfortable feeling that settled over his heart at those words. It was ridiculous, the way it bothered him.

"Then get out of my office, Aldo." If she wouldn’t call him by his name, then he would do the same. "And don’t come back."

"I wasn’t planning to."

She turned sharply and walked out of his office, spine stiff, shoulders high, fury burning in every step.

"Damn!" Zane cussed, rubbing a hand over his face, feeling the edge of frustration scrape at him. He wondered if he had handled it well—if he had done what Ewan would have done if the same matter had been placed before him.

He cussed again, grabbed his phone, and called Sandro. His other friend always knew what to do.

"Sandro..."

"Zane, you better have a good reason for calling... I’m knee-deep in work here."

Zane sighed, remembering that with Ewan and Athena out of the state, Sandro was shuffling between Ewan’s company and the Thorne company Athena had inherited months prior.

"Okay then. Drinks tonight at our spot?"

A pause on the other end. "Is everything alright, Zane?"

"Of course. Just want to talk."

Another pause. He could practically feel Sandro’s disbelief through the phone.

"Alright then. See you at eight."

When the call ended, Zane looked at the picture displayed on his screen again—the one Gianna had sent him moments ago—and cussed for the third time.

She hadn’t even talked about it. She really didn’t want anything to do with him.

That was okay... or it should have been.

But his heart wouldn’t agree.

—

Meanwhile, Gianna stomped her way into the Uber.

"Drive!" she ordered the moment she closed the door. "To Beckett’s Jewelleries."

The driver, who thought his passenger was quite a moody one, gave a curt nod and went off to do her bidding.

Moments later, Gianna stood before the second largest jewellery company in the country—right after the Whitman chain. Their direct competitor. Rivals to say the least.

The Beckett building towered above her like a modern fortress—sleek steel, glass walls reflecting the city, sharp angles that screamed money and intimidation.

Floors upon floors rose toward the sky, each level boasting its own balcony of greenery and gold accents. And the massive double doors shimmered beneath the sun, engraved with patterns that beckoned on her.

"I’ll be back soon," she told the driver as she opened the door, inhaling deeply. Steeling herself.

As she walked toward the company, she wished she had come with a portfolio or something—anything besides her name and accomplishments. But there was no choice.

This was a make-or-break season for her, and she had chosen growth. She would not crawl. She would climb. Fly even.

She beelined to the receptionist desk.

"Hello, I am..."

"Gianna Aldo." The receptionist completed, unable to hide the gloat creeping into her voice, into the gleam in her eyes.

Everyone in this building knew Beckett had tried to poach Gianna for years. She’d always been elusive.

And now she was here, because her company was gone.

The receptionist’s smile widened, dripping with the kind of satisfaction only gossip-mongers enjoyed.

She opened her mouth to taunt Gianna, already tasting the petty words she wanted to spit.

But Gianna, sensing the venom before it even left the woman’s tongue—sensing the looks she was getting from the other workers, the whispered pity and superiority—raised her hand.

"Don’t," She said, her voice low, steady, and slicing. "Not if you want to lose your job. Just direct me to the manager’s office. I have an appointment."

Her look was daring like her lie—chin lifted, eyes sharp, shoulders pulled back like a queen entering her throne room.

Bossy, unyielding, the kind of intensity that made the receptionist forget every smart mouth she had been about to unleash.

She swallowed hard and nodded, instantly obedient, instantly aware she had nearly crossed a line she had no business touching.

Gianna ignored the stares as she walked away. Let them look, she thought. Let them talk. She had survived worse than people’s opinions.

And she refused—absolutely refused—to let anyone look down on her.