Blanche's POV
After eight grueling hours locked in that cell, a cop finally opens the door. "Bail's been posted, Ms. Callum. You're free to leave."
Someone paid my bail - Zain? My family?
I don't bother asking. Just nod my thanks and walk into the lobby.
Under the harsh fluorescent lights, a familiar silhouette waits.
Zain.
That perfectly tailored suit, those long legs - same packaging, same cold exterior.
And yet in bed, he'd never once left me truly satisfied.
No doubt his nights with Joanna overflow with everything I never experienced.
Zain hears my footsteps, notices my hesitation. He turns, his voice flat. "Let's go."
His face gives away nothing.
I couldn't care less what's running through his head. Sure, punching Marquis was rash - but I don't regret it.
Those days when I'd have killed to walk beside him, to slip my hand into his? Long gone.
Those days when I'd have killed to walk beside him, to slip my hand into his? Long gone.
