Chapter 5

Janelle's POV

My eyes fluttered open slowly.

For a moment, everything was a blur and I blinked hard, trying to gather my scattered thoughts.

Where was I?

Panic rushed through me instantly, and I pushed myself up too fast, my chest tightening as my eyes darted wildly around the unfamiliar room.

“Where am I?”

My voice came out hoarse and weak.

Then suddenly, a warm hand gently touched my arm.

I flinched at first, then turned quickly.

Zane sat beside the bed, his expression calm, his touch steady in a way that strangely soothed the panic rising inside me.

“Hey,” he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly over my arm in quiet reassurance.

“You’re safe now. Calm down. No one is going to hurt you here.”

The tension in my chest loosened immediately.

A shaky breath left my lips as I sank back against the pillows, my eyes stinging unexpectedly.

“I thought…” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard. “I thought I had died in that basement.”

I looked at him, my throat tightening with emotion.

“Thank you,” I whispered brokenly. “Thank you for saving my life. If you hadn’t come back when you did… if you hadn’t opened that door…I'd have died in there”

He lowered his gaze briefly before looking back at me.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice carrying real weight. “I’m sorry you had to suffer that kind of cruelty in their hands.No woman deserves what they did to you, Janelle.”

Something about the way he said my name did strange things to me.

Because we were seated so close, I found myself truly looking at him for the first time.

And God…He was beautiful.

Not in the polished, cold way Kennedy was.

Zane had a rougher kind of handsomeness, there was something undeniably masculine about him.

The kind of quiet magnetism that could make a woman lose all sense and throw pride to the wind just to be wanted by him.

Heat rushed unexpectedly to my cheeks and my gaze dropped at once.

What is wrong with you, Janelle?

I scolded myself instantly.

That is your brother-in-law!

Well… ex-husband now, I corrected myself bitterly.

At this point, the only thing left was my signature on the divorce papers.

The thought left a hollow ache in my chest, but before I could sink into it, Zane’s voice pulled me back.

“Do you know how beautiful you are, Janelle?”

My head snapped up so quickly our eyes locked.

His jaw tightened slightly, anger flashing across his face as he continued.

“What I cannot understand is what you ever saw in that brute called Kennedy that made you shrink yourself so small.”

His eyes searched mine.

“What kind of love makes a woman accept cruelty as though she deserves it?”

Shame and pain twisted painfully inside me.

A bitter laugh escaped me, wet with tears and venom.

“I hate him.”

The words came out before I could stop them.

“I hate Kennedy James Jones for making me feel small. I hate him for humiliating me. I hate him for touching another woman while I begged him to look at me. I hate him for making me believe I was hard to love.”

My fingers tightened violently around the bedsheet.

“And most of all…”

My voice cracked.

“I hate that I loved him enough to destroy myself for him.”

Then Zane gave a low, humorless chuckle.

“Well,” he said, leaning back slightly, “that is good to know.”

I frowned.

“Good to know?”

His eyes darkened.

“It means we have a mutual enemy.”

My brows pulled together in confusion as

I stared at him.

“You hate your brother?”

A cold smile touched his lips.

“Hate is a nice word for what I feel.”

Something dangerous flickered in his eyes.

“He is the reason I came back to New York. I came back to take everything from him.”

A chill ran down my spine.

Zane stood and walked slowly toward the window, sliding one hand into his pocket.

“And my revenge on Kennedy…” he said slowly, “starts with you.”

My breath caught.

I pushed myself up slightly on the bed, confusion flashing across my face.

“Me?” My voice came out smaller than I intended. “How?”

He stepped closer, just enough that the space between us felt charged.

“Because our pain is connected,” he said flatly. “You suffered because of him. I suffered because of him. That makes us aligned whether you like it or not.”

Zane’s gaze didn’t waver.

“I don’t just want to hurt Kennedy, Janelle,” he continued, voice dropping lower. “I want to ruin him. Strip him of everything he thinks defines him. His name. His power. His control over people. I want him to feel small in a world he believes he owns.”

My chest rose and fell unevenly.

“He thinks he’s untouchable,” Zane added, a cold edge slipping into his tone. “But men like Kennedy always forget one thing… they are only powerful until someone decides they are not.”

I swallowed hard.

“I want that too,” I admitted quietly, my voice trembling with emotion. “I want him to suffer. All of them… Brenda, Fiona, Leonard… Everyone who watched me break and call it entertainment.”

My fingers curled into the sheets.

“I just don’t know how.”

Zane studied me for a long moment, then he exhaled slowly.

“Marry me, Janelle.”