Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 91: Accusations

Gianna lay back against the pillows, eyes unfocused, staring at a point just above Athena’s shoulder as the weight of the new information settled in her chest.

Zane.

The name felt like a stone dropped into still water, ripples spreading outward—corporate, public, vicious. She could already see the headlines forming in her mind, sharp and merciless.

Whitman Heir Implicated in Assassination Attempt. Rival Designer Targeted Hours After Major Win. The damage wouldn’t be subtle. It never was.

Zane’s company would bleed for this.

She swallowed, throat tight, and shifted slightly on the bed, the movement stiff and careful. The dull ache in her head flared in protest, but she ignored it.

What bothered more was the thought of what this accusation would cost him. Investors fleeing. Contracts frozen. Trust evaporating overnight.

And the bitter irony of it all twisted something ugly in her gut.

As much as she wanted Zane to fall—wanted him to feel even a fraction of the helpless fury he had once inflicted on her—she didn’t want it like this. Not on the back of a lie. Not for something he hadn’t done.

Athena had been watching her too closely to miss the shift in her expression.

"You know," she said slowly, voice measured, "that Zane didn’t do this. Right?"

Gianna nodded at once, the motion small but firm. "I know."

Areso moved behind her then, quietly adjusting the pillows, propping her up a little more so she could breathe easier. The familiarity of the gesture grounded her, even as her thoughts spiraled.

"I hate him," Gianna admitted, her voice low, honest. "But not enough to want him destroyed for the wrong reason."

Athena’s gaze softened. "You remember what he did for us during the Grey Virus," she said. "When everything went to hell. When his father was ready to let people die quietly."

Gianna did remember. Too clearly.

"At least in that," Athena continued, "he’s not his father. Zane would never do this."

"I don’t need convincing," Gianna murmured. Her fingers curled slightly into the sheets. "I know he didn’t."

Chelsea shifted on the chair near the foot of the bed, arms folding loosely over her chest. "Then the question is—why would Arthur go that far? Yes he saw something but..." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Gianna frowned. "What did he see?"

Chelsea shrugged. "At the site of the attack...they found the Whitman Jewels emblem."

Gianna’s brows knit together, her mind already racing. "So it was staged," she said slowly. "Deliberate."

The others nodded in agreement.

"A planned attack," Gianna went on, the pieces aligning with sickening clarity. "One meant to redirect blame. To fracture loyalties. To burn bridges all at once."

"Whoever is playing this game," Athena muttered, hands clenching into fists at her sides, "knows exactly what they’re doing. Killing two stones with one bird."

Gianna watched the tension ripple through her friend’s shoulders, the restrained fury there. Athena had always hated manipulation more than violence—cowards who pulled strings from the shadows.

"But don’t worry," Athena added, forcing calm into her tone as she reached out and patted Gianna’s thigh gently. "We’ll get them. Good always triumphs over evil."

Gianna nodded, but her mind refused to settle. Something about this didn’t sit right. Not the timing. Not the speed with which the narrative had been hijacked.

"I want to see the interview," she said.

Areso glanced at Athena, then pulled out her phone. "Already saved."

She tapped the screen, turned the volume up slightly, and angled it so Gianna could see.

The video filled the space between them.

"Arthur Beckett, sir—can you comment on the tragic incident involving Gianna Thorne?"

Arthur’s face appeared on-screen, older than she remembered him looking, the lines around his eyes deeper. He stood rigidly, jaw tight, grief and something sharper flickering behind his gaze.

"Gianna is more than just one of my designers," Arthur said, voice heavy. "She is family. To see her lying in a hospital bed because of corporate hatred—because of greed—is unforgivable."

Gianna’s chest tightened despite herself.

"Are you suggesting this was a targeted attack?" the reporter pressed.

Arthur didn’t hesitate. "Absolutely."

His eyes hardened.

"The Whitmans have always believed they were untouchable," he continued. "But this—this level of wickedness—crosses every line. Zane Whitman has shown us exactly what kind of man he is."

Gianna felt something cold slide down her spine.

"We have reason to believe," Arthur said, "that this attack was orchestrated to silence a rising rival. And I will not rest until justice is served."

The video ended. Silence followed, thick and uneasy.

"Whitman stocks are plunging," Areso said quietly. "Investors are pulling out already."

Gianna barely heard her.

Her gaze lingered on the blank screen, Arthur’s words echoing in her head.

She drew in a slow breath seconds later. "How is Zane?"

The question slipped out before she could stop it—her first time asking about his wellbeing since the marriage fiasco, since everything had imploded so spectacularly between them.

The room shifted.

Chelsea and Areso exchanged a look. Athena hesitated.

Gianna’s heart skipped. "What?" she asked, her voice sharper now. "What is it?"

Athena exhaled. "He’s...outside."

Gianna blinked. "Outside?"

"He’s been here," Athena said. "Since the first night. He hasn’t left."

Gianna stared at her, disbelief warring with confusion. "You’re serious."

"He hasn’t cared about the rumors," Chelsea added quietly. "About the reporters camped outside. Or the stock freefall."

Areso nodded. "Except when Noah came by."

That made her pause.

"Noah?"

Athena inclined her head. "He always leaves before Noah comes into the building, through the back doors..."

Gianna leaned back, processing that. "And now?"

Athena studied her carefully. "Do you want to see him?"

Gianna’s fingers tightened against the sheets. Part of her wanted to say no. Wanted to protect herself from the complicated storm Zane always seemed to bring with him.

But another part—quieter—knew that refusing would be a lie. She had to apologize to him too.

"Yes," she said softly. Then, firmer, "Let him in."

Athena nodded. "Alright then." She cocked her head toward Areso and Chelsea, and together they walked out of the room.