Blanche's POV
Minutes ticked by before I finally opened the hotel room door.
Zain didn't spare me a glance. He simply walked down the hallway with purpose. "Follow me," he commanded, his voice completely emotionless.
His tone revealed nothing, and I couldn't decipher what he was thinking from his expression.
I had no choice but to trail behind him.
Zain pushed through the stairwell door at the corridor's end. He stepped inside, and I followed suit.
The moment the door shut with a soft click, he positioned himself against it, obviously planning to keep Vincent from following.
I observed everything unfold, my pulse racing with a cocktail of surprise and terror.
Throughout our five-year marriage, I had cherished and honored Zain. When I'd made the decision to divorce, I'd begun releasing that love and respect, learning not to care anymore.
But never before had I felt this kind of fear toward him.
Zain propped himself against the door and pulled out a cigarette.
