Jean lay limp in Zane's arms, her body cold and bruised.
Zane placed her gently in the back seat of his car, his hands trembling. She didn't stir.
Her lip was bleeding. Her wrist was injured.
He placed her in the backseat in such a gentle way that never belonged to him.
He turned back to Jared. His fist tighten with fury. There was fire in his eyes.
He spoke in a low and dangerous tone.
"Find James Maddox. I don't care how, I don't care where before she wakes up, I want him on his knees."
Jared nodded and ran to his car before Zane would kill him.
Zane sat on the driver's seat and started the engine.
Every part of his body was filled with fury.
He looked at Jean again and again while driving.
The girl who never asked for any of this.
The girl who didn't even know she belonged to him yet.
He hit a number on speed dial.
"Yeah. Dr. Emily Carter. My place. Now," he snapped. "She needs a check-up. Female patient. Injured. Come alone."
He increased the car speed.
"She was supposed to be safe," he muttered under his breath. "No one touches what's mine. No one."
He drove without looking at the red lights, breaking every rule.
With every second, he thought of more and more cruel way of killing James while looking at Jean.
He got out and opened the door. Jean hadn't moved. He carried her again in his arms gently.
"Jean," he spoke while brushing the hair from her face.
"No one will hurt you now, never. I'll make sure of it."
The doctor was already there. He took Jean to his room and placed her on the bed gently.
The servants were shocked at Zane's behavior. Even they weren't allowed to entry his room. And now a strange women, he carried in his arms was laying there like it was her place from the start.
The devil was quiet now.
But hell was about to loose.
The doctor packed up her bag, shooting one last look at the girl lying unconscious on the bed.
"She's too weak," she said quietly. "Whoever did this didn't just hurt her. They drained her. Physically. Emotionally."
Zane's jaw locked.
"She needs rest. Fluids. A calm environment," Dr. Emily Carter added, zipping up her kit. "And someone who won't leave her side."
Zane didn't speak. Just nodded once.
The doctor left the room. Zane turned to the woman standing at the door Martha, the eldest servant in the mansion. The only one he ever gave direct orders to inside his private quarters.
"Make something light for her. Soup. Something warm," he said, voice firm but low. "And bring it up when she wakes."
Martha blinked at him. She had served the Thorne family since Zane was a boy. And yet, she'd never heard his voice sound like that.
"I'll prepare it myself," she said softly, then left.
Now it was just him. And Jean.
She was laying still, hooked to an IV drip. Her lips cracked and skin pale breathing slow.
She had gauze on her hand.
Zane walked over, each step calculated, quiet.
He bent down near her. And for a moment he just… stared. Like he was seeing her for the first time.
"I'm sorry Bluebird.... I'm sorry for being late." He said while something broke in him.
He was not the same Zane Thorne that never said sorry in his whole life. He looked like someone who just saw his world ending.
His fingers caressing her cheek gently. His thumb hovered near the corner of her mouth where a cut still bled faintly.
"I should've been there," he breathed. "I should've protected you."
He leaned in. "They touched you. They breathed near you. That's enough reason for me to burn everything down."
His phone buzzed.
He didn't move.
It rang again.
With a slow, sharp inhale, he stood and pulled it from his pocket.
"Speak," he said.
"It's Jared," the voice came quick. "We found him. James Maddox. He's still in the city."
Silence.
Then something in Zane's eyes turned.
Cold. Dead. Wrathful.
"Where?"
Jared answered. Zane didn't blink.
"Keep him there," he said, already walking toward the door. "I'm coming."
He looked over his shoulder at Jean, her face calm and unaware.
The softness in his eyes gone.
He wasn't the man who sat by her side anymore.
He was the storm.
He was the devil.
Zane's secret warehouse in his office:
The warehouse was quiet. Blood smell lingered around.
James Maddox was tied to a steel chair. His face already bruised. His expensive suit was torn.
Jared stood in the shadows.
Zane stepped in slowly, his coat still on, his shirt stained with the scent of Jean's pain.
James lifted his head and laughed weakly. "Didn't know she meant that much to you."
Zane didn't speak.
He simply punched him. Once. Then again. Blood started dripping from James nose.
Zane spoke coldly.
"You laid a finger on her?"
Another punch.
"You breathed near her?"
He grabbed James by the throat.
"She was bleeding because of you. Her lips. Her wrists. You think I'll let you walk after that?"
James coughed. "You're insane.."
Zane pulled back and kicked him hard in the ribs.
"I'm obsessed," he hissed. "You took what was mine. You touched what I breathe for."
Jared's phone buzzed. He answered. After a short nod, he handed the phone to Zane.
"It's Martha."
Zane took it.
"She's awake," Martha said on the other end. "Just now. She's looking around, confused."
Zane closed his eyes. Relief washed through him then tension took over.
He hung up.
"Jared." His voice was sharp. "Do it. If she refuses to marry me, you know the plan. Take the boy."
Jared nodded, silently disappearing into the darkness.
Zane turned back to James.
He looked coldly, calmly towards James.
"I'm not going to kill you, Maddox," he said.
"I'm going to tear you apart. Slowly. Piece by piece. You'll beg for death, and I'll keep you alive just to make you suffer longer."
James laughed again, though weakly. "All this for a girl?"
Zane stood up.
"For my girl," he growled. "You'll learn that touching Jean Gray was the last mistake of your miserable life."
He grabbed a metal rod from the wall. He didn't hesitated.
James shriek echoed in the warehouse. It was like a warning.
Don't touch what belongs to Zane Thorne.
Zane's penthouse:
From the moment jean woke up there was only one question in her mind. "Where am I?"
The walls around her weren't hers. The expensive decor, the dim lighting, the scent of sandalwood and something darker this wasn't her apartment.
The door opened.
Zane stepped in.
She remembered him. A flash of his face in the warehouse. Broad shoulders. Dark eyes burning like fury itself. The man who saved her.
A woman stood nearby older, dressed like house staff.
"Did she eat?" Zane asked the woman.
She shook her head. "No, sir. Not even a bite."
Zane spoke in a calm voice. "You can go. I'll take care of her."
Jean's breath hitched as the woman gave her a faint smile and left. Now, she was alone with him.
His gaze moved to her. That fire was gone. What remained was something strange softness.
"Why didn't you eat?" he asked while stepping closer. A smile formed his lips. It didn't suit his face. It looked too human. Too… gentle.
Jean's heart pounded. "Who… who are you?" she asked too slowly.
He sat down on the chair beside her bed. "Zane Thorne," he said proudly. "Your future husband," he added, his voice low and warm. "In just a few hours."
Her world stopped.
Jean blinked. "What… what did you say?"
Zane's smile widened slightly. His eyes studied her face like it was art.
"You're going to be my wife, Jean Gray."
She tried to stand from the bed, her head spinned a bit. "No. I need to go home. I… I want to go home."
Zane stood, blocking her path. Still smiling, still calm.
"Don't do that," he said softly. "Don't run from the one person who'd burn this world down for you."
Jean's eyes narrowed. "I didn't ask for any of this. You saved me, yes. And I'm grateful. But this...this is insane. I don't even know you."
Zane's gaze dropped for a moment.
"I'm asking nicely," he said. "Marry me."
Jean stepped back. "No."
Something snapped in his eyes. That softness vanished like mist in fire.
He pulled a gun from the drawer behind him and slammed it onto the table.
Jean froze. Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart screamed.
Zane stepped closer, his face suddenly blank. "Don't make me force this. I don't want to. But I will, if it means keeping you safe."
Jean's lips trembled. "Safe? With a gun in my face?"
His hand trembled for a second. Just one. An emotion of guilt passed through his eyes. But he composed himself. His obsession for her was more than the guilt.
"I know this is wrong," he whispered. "I know this is the biggest mistake I'm about to make. But I can't let you go. Not now. Not after today."
Tears slipped from Jean's eyes.
Zane swallowed hard. "You're my lifeline, Jean. You don't know it yet… but you will."
Still, she said nothing.
Then he did what he never wanted to do.
He picked up the tablet and tapped the screen. It lit up.
Greyson.
At the park.
Playing.
Alone.
Jean's breath stopped.
"No," she whispered. "No..Don't hurt him.. please..."
Zane stepped closer. "Say yes. Just say the word, and I'll call Jared off. He's safe right now. But that won't last."
Her lips parted in disbelief. Horror.
"You're a monster.." Jean said. Her words filled with tears she was trying to stop.
Zane leaned closer, his voice a soft whisper that cracked against the silence.
"Be mine, Jean. Say yes."