CHAPTER 362
“Well, you achieved your second dream today, and as your husband, it’s only right for me to celebrate with you,” Xander said softly, his deep voice laced with affection.
He gently cupped Arianna’s cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin as he gazed into her eyes.
“I know you’re not into flashy, high-end cars, so I picked something simple and practical. It’ll make it easier for you to get around and handle your work assignments.”
Arianna blinked, her heart skipping a beat.
She had been considering buying a car for months, knowing how much easier it would make her work life. But with her savings not quite where she wanted them to be, it had remained a distant goal.
She never imagined that Xander would think of it for her—much less go out of his way to choose a car that perfectly suited her needs.
Her chest tightened, a mix of surprise and gratitude flooding her. Xander wasn’t one to shower her with flowery words, but his actions always spoke volumes.
When Arianna didn’t respond immediately, the light in Xander’s eyes flickered slightly, and his voice dropped a notch, tinged with concern.
“What is it? Don’t you like it?”
The vulnerability in his tone broke through her haze, and Arianna quickly shook her head, her hand instinctively covering his on her cheek.
Xander knew Arianna had never touched the funds on the black card he had given her. The only time she used it was to confront a dangerous criminal, tricking him by transferring ten million as part of her plan.
Even then, the money was promptly returned to his account once the authorities handled the situation.
In truth, Arianna had never spent a single penny of his wealth, choosing instead to keep their finances entirely separate.
Xander had once been angry, believing she only cared about his money, but now that frustration had transformed into something else—an ache born from her refusal to rely on him.
It felt as though Arianna had drawn a line between them, a boundary he wasn’t allowed to cross.
But Xander didn’t want boundaries. He wanted to be an inseparable part of her life, so deeply woven into it that the idea of leaving would never cross her mind.
As Arianna snapped out of her thoughts, a smile gradually lit up her face. She took the keys from his hand, her fingers brushing against his.
“Yes,” she said brightly, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness.
“Of course, I’m thrilled to accept my husband’s thoughtful gift!”
Xander’s lips curved into a small but genuine smile, his chest swelling with a warmth he couldn’t quite put into words.
This was a step closer to what he hoped for—a life where they shared everything, with no lines drawn between them.
Arianna stretched her arms around Xander’s neck, a radiant smile gracing her lips. She leaned in and pressed a warm kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you, darling,” she said softly, her voice filled with genuine affection.
The journey she and Xander had shared wasn’t an easy one, but it had brought them closer, solidifying her resolve to spend a lifetime by his side.
There was no point in keeping him at arm’s length anymore—he was her husband, and she wanted to cherish his thoughtful gestures.
Seeing the tension melt away from Xander’s expression, Arianna felt a warmth in her chest. He pulled her into a firm embrace, holding her tightly as though she was his entire world.
…
Meanwhile, the night had deepened, and it was already ten o’clock when Zac stepped out of a bar.
His steps were unsteady, and his eyes glazed from having indulged in one too many drinks. A member of the bar staff quickly came to his aid, guiding him to the waiting car outside.
The driver opened the door for him, helping Zach settle into the backseat before starting the journey to his villa.
The roads were deserted at that late hour, and the car moved swiftly through the quiet streets. In less than thirty minutes, it pulled up in front of the grand villa located in the heart of the city.
Zach stepped out of the car and made his way to the gate of his villa. As he reached for the door handle, his eyes caught a dark figure crouching in the shadows near the entrance.
Taken aback, he called out,
“Who’s there?”
The figure remained silent, only lifting her head to meet his gaze.
Zach squinted, trying to make out the person’s features, and then he recognized her—Harmony. A quiet sigh escaped his lips as he muttered,
“Bunny? What are you doing here?”
Harmony remained quiet, her gaze fixed on the ground.
He walked toward her, his tone softening.
“Why didn’t you just call me when you arrived?”
Standing in front of her, he added,
“Come on, let’s go inside and talk.”
Harmony gave a faint nod, attempting to rise, but halfway up, her body seemed to give way, and she suddenly crumpled to the ground.
Instinctively, Zach reached out to steady her, but as soon as his hand touched her arm, Harmony let out a sharp cry of pain.
“AHHH—”
Zach’s instincts immediately kicked in when he heard the distress in Harmony’s voice. His concern sharpened, and he hurriedly moved to help her up, his hands steadying her as she seemed to lose all her strength. His frustration deepened as he supported her shoulder, guiding her forward.
The dim light from the streetlamps cast faint shadows over Harmony’s face, but when Zach looked more closely, his stomach twisted in horror.
Her body was covered in bruises, cuts, and marks—each one more shocking than the last. His drunken haze lifted instantly, replaced by a rush of anger and worry. His voice was tight as he asked,
“Who did this to you, Bunny?”
Harmony’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Zach... I just need some water.”
Though rage boiled within him, Zach understood her fragility. He forced himself to stay calm.
“Alright, let’s get inside.”
With careful precision, he helped her through the door and onto the plush sofa in the living room. He moved quickly, bringing her a glass of water, his mind racing with a thousand questions. Sitting beside her, he offered the glass with a gentle hand. But as she took it, his eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from her injuries.
Under the soft, golden glow of the lamps, the full extent of her wounds became painfully clear—swollen bruises, deep cuts, and scratches—each one telling a story of violence he wasn’t ready to hear. His heart ached at the sight, and the fury in him only deepened.
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