Zane looked at her as if he'd come specifically to find her. "Get in," he said, his voice barely audible over the pounding rain.
The rain suddenly intensified, soaking Joanne's hair, the wet strands plastered to her face and neck. Yet she remained stubborn, tapping her destination into the ride-hailing app with chilled fingers.
No drivers accepted the request. Cars streamed past, but not a single taxi was available.
"Is my car really that dangerous?" Zane sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Yes," Joanne shot back. "Your wife would murder me."
"She doesn't have the guts—or the means," he scoffed. "Now get in. Or should I step out and open the door for you like some chauffeur?"
She ignored him and spun away, breaking into a run.
Just like before, Zane was out of the car instantl
