Betrothed To An Alpha? I Don't Think So!
Chapter 36: Eventually, He Would

Chapter 36: Eventually, He Would

"But understand that since I’ve written this will, you’ll be the one on the losing end. Why?" Evelyn said.

"Well because Zayne Mancini is my successor. And who is Zayne Mancini? The wealthiest man and the most successful businessman to exist. A man whom even our father is second to. Now if I died and he took the company, do you think you can beat him? Do you think you’ll be able to take this corporation from him? You know you can never beat a man like him, not in this game. He was my greatest trump card and now that I think about it, father really is a funny man. A smart man if you will."

She laughed.

"He knew the kind of man you were. He knew that if he gave this company to me, you’d go to any length to get it back and that’s why he betrothed me to Zayne Mancini. To see that I could use him when the time came. He’d already set out this entire platform for me, and now it’s all up to me how careful I am with every step I take. Looking at this entire situation, it seems to me that you have a better chance of getting this company with me alive than dead. So, how are we going to do this? Would you rather kill me?" She smiled at him. "Or leave me alive, Preston, in order to keep fighting?"

Preston grew cold, tone chilly. "How. Dare. You?"

"Preston—"

His palm landed roughly across her face, twisting her head to the other side. It was loud, painful, and scorching against her skin.

Evelyn sat frozen, unmoving even when his hand wrapped around her throat, almost strangling her. She flickered her eyes, lips stretching into a stunned amusement, though she found it hard to breathe.

"Let go of me!"

She grabbed at his wrist.

Preston however was fuming, beyond enraged.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he spat. "What makes you think you have any right to speak—"

A pair of fingers weaved all suddenly into his hair and he was yanked around, eyes rising to lock in with those pairs of peppered blue.

"Take your hands off!—"

Zayne Mancini slammed his face into the desk. He dragged his head back and smacked it heavily into the dark wood, this time around, the sound of Preston’s nose cracking could be heard.

"How dare you touch her?" he questioned, voice, anything like Evelyn had ever heard before. It was murderous, echoing, like he wasn’t even himself at that very moment.

"Z-zayne," Evelyn stuttered. She couldn’t move, still as a statue where she was. And she didn’t even know why.

She’d never seen him like this before. He was different from the calm collected man she’d always known. He looked crazed, like he’d lost his mind.

Her head twisted towards Preston whose blood had stained the table. Her pupils dilated and she sprang to her feet, grabbing Zayne by the arm. "No, wait, stop. Zayne stop, you’re going to kill him! Stop it!"

But Zayne was out of his right mind.

"Don’t you ever put your filthy hands on her ever again!" he warned, angry like he’d never been before. "You fucking did it the last time, and I let it go for her sake."

He leaned into Preston, snarling, "But the next time you’ll ever make a repeat of this. If you even think about it, I will burn your hands! I will kill you, Preston—"

"Zayne, stop. Please!"

"—And you’d be stupid to think I don’t mean every word I say. Don’t you ever try this bullshit again!"

"ZAYNE!!" Evelyn snapped at him, chest rising and falling in a quick rhythm. "Have you lost your mind?! Calm down and listen to me!"

The man dragged a heavy breath, his gaze shifted to her. The blue of his eyes was so darkened, and she’d never seen it like that before. He looked anything but human at that moment.

She watched him run his fingers through his hair, swallowing.

"Zayne—"

"I’m leaving." He didn’t wait for a response from her, turning and storming out of the office.

"Wait, no, Zayne!" Evelyn rushed after him. "Don’t leave. Wait, you have to—" She stopped, recalling that Preston was a bloody mess in her office.

"Brandon!" she shouted. "Lyra!"

Both siblings were rushing over at the sound of her voice, wondering why she was screaming their names.

They approached her glaring, but stopped at the look on her face.

"What’s going on?" Brandon questioned.

"Preston," she said, breathing and gulping. "In my office. H-help him. I-I have something to do."

She didn’t wait for a word from them, hurrying on her feet to catch up with Zayne. She didn’t bother with the elevator, but took the stairs instead.

She’d taken her phone out as she rushed out through the glass door, dialing his number, but he wasn’t answering.

"Zayne!"

She couldn’t find him anywhere.

"Hey." She stopped one of the workers. "Did you see him?"

The worker blinked, confused. "Who?"

"My husba—no, I meant, Zayne Mancini. He came down here a few minutes ago. Where is he?"

"Oh...um, Mr. Mancini has already left. He drove off just a minute ago."

Evelyn slapped a palm over his forehead, defeated. "Oh, common. At least pick up your phone."

She hurried over to the side of the road, flagging down a taxi.

The ride to the manor was quick. Barely thirty minutes. She didn’t stall, getting down and racing inside.

Agatha was dusting off the curtains, jolting a bit at the sight of her.

"Madam?"

"Did he come back here?" Evelyn asked, catching her breath. "Zayne."

Agatha blinked, frantically confused.

Evelyn didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she sprinted up to the second floor, hurrying to their room. But when she opened the door, the room was empty.

Zayne was nowhere to be seen.

She reached for her phone, dialed his number over and over again, but he never picked up.

Not even at her twentieth dial.

Where had he gone?

Her face fell.

She didn’t even know why she’d run after him. But that had been her first instinct. Why...?

The look on his face... She couldn’t explain it.

Who’d ever been angry on her behalf like that? No one...

He’d not only taken a bullet for her, but he’d...

Evelyn slipped off her shoes, lifting her feet onto the bed. She pulled her legs to her chest and buried her face in her knees, proceeding to wait for him.

He was going to come home. Eventually, he would.

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