Blanche's POV
Throughout all these years of marriage, Zain had never used that word with me, except during those performances for his grandfather's benefit.
Hearing "wife" roll off his tongue now made something heavy settle deep in my chest.
Vincent caught Zain's words too, and his expression turned stormy in an instant.
"Zain, cut the crap. Who exactly are you calling your wife?" he barked.
Zain registered Vincent's furious outburst but acted completely unbothered. He tilted his head up and guided me away, every movement radiating cocky confidence.
At this moment, Zain carried himself like he'd just claimed victory, smugness written all over his features.
Walking down those steps, I stole a quick look at Vincent from the corner of my eye.
He was seething, but he stayed put.
Guilt twisted in my stomach. I almost spoke up, but with Zain right beside me, I swallowed the words.
Zain ushered me toward the car, and I couldn't help but turn back toward Vincent's spot.
