THE TIPPING POINT

Chapter 18 – The Tipping Point

The lounge was elegant, filled with the low hum of conversation and the soft clink of expensive glassware. But for Zane, all of it faded into the background as he slid into the seat beside Vincent, facing Arthur Lancaster.

There was something about the way Lancaster smiled that put Zane on edge. It was the kind of smile men in power wore when they believed they'd already won.

Zane hated men like that.

"Let's get straight to the point," Vincent said, voice crisp. "You didn't invite me here for pleasantries. What do you really want, Lancaster?"

Lancaster leaned back in his seat, swirling his drink lazily. "Always so impatient, Graves. Business is a game. You should learn to enjoy it."

Vincent didn't even blink. "I don't play games I don't intend to win."

Zane smirked at that. Damn, Vincent was sharp. It was almost attractive. Almost.

Lancaster sighed dramatically. "Fine. I'll be direct, then. The Harrington estate—specifically, the shares Zane is set to inherit. I want them."

Zane arched a brow, exchanging a glance with Vincent. "That's bold of you," Zane mused. "Considering they're not for sale."

Lancaster chuckled. "Everything has a price." His eyes darkened slightly. "Even you."

Vincent's posture stiffened. Just slightly, but Zane noticed.

Zane let out a slow breath, a sharp grin stretching across his lips. "Cute. But I don't sell pieces of myself, Lancaster."

"Oh?" Lancaster's smirk didn't fade. "You might want to reconsider. You see, I've done my research." He slid a folder across the table. "Your father has been making some very… questionable financial moves. If certain information were to get out, well—let's just say, the Harrington empire wouldn't be so untouchable."

Zane's fingers hovered over the folder. His playful demeanor didn't falter, but his heartbeat kicked up a notch.

Blackmail.

Vincent leaned forward slightly, his voice like ice. "You're threatening him."

Lancaster tilted his head. "I prefer to call it an opportunity."

Zane finally opened the folder, scanning the contents. His father had always been ruthless, but even he hadn't expected this. Under-the-table deals, falsified reports…

Damn.

His father had been playing with fire, and Lancaster had the proof to burn him.

Zane exhaled sharply and closed the folder. "Let's say I care. What's your offer?"

Vincent shot him a sharp look, but Zane ignored it. He wasn't stupid—he wasn't actually considering this. But he needed to know what Lancaster's endgame was.

Lancaster smiled. "Sell me your shares. Walk away from the Harrington empire. In return, I make sure this information never sees the light of day."

Silence settled over the table.

Zane leaned back, tapping a finger against his glass. "Tempting. But here's the problem—I don't take orders. And I sure as hell don't take threats."

Lancaster's smile thinned. "Think carefully, Harrington."

Vincent's voice was low, dangerous. "I suggest you think carefully, Lancaster."

Something shifted in the air. For the first time that night, Lancaster hesitated.

Vincent's expression was unreadable, but the weight behind his words was enough to make even a man like Lancaster pause.

Zane watched the exchange with interest. Vincent wasn't just playing defense—he was on the attack.

And that? That was sexy as hell.

Lancaster exhaled, his expression smoothing back into amusement. "Very well. Consider my offer. But don't take too long, gentlemen. Time has a way of running out."

He stood, buttoning his suit jacket before walking away, leaving behind a tension so thick it was suffocating.

Zane finally turned to Vincent. "Well, that was fun."

Vincent's jaw was tight. "He's dangerous."

Zane smirked. "So are we."

Vincent sighed, rubbing his temple. "This isn't a game, Harrington."

Zane leaned in, lowering his voice. "Neither was what happened in the car last night."

Vincent froze.

Gotcha.

A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at Zane's lips. "I think you like me, Graves."

Vincent's eyes darkened, but instead of snapping back, he simply stood. "Let's go."

Zane chuckled, following him out.

Whatever this was between them—it was getting harder to ignore.

And maybe, just maybe, Zane didn't want to ignore it anymore.

---

Back at the Car – The Tension Boils Over

The ride back was silent. Not the comfortable kind of silence, but the heavy, loaded kind—where every unspoken word felt like a fuse waiting to be lit.

Vincent kept his eyes on the road, his jaw tense. Zane, on the other hand, was watching him.

"I meant what I said, you know."

Vincent didn't look at him. "Which part?"

Zane smirked, but there was something softer beneath it. "That you like me."

Vincent's grip tightened on the wheel. "You're mistaken."

Zane hummed. "Mmm. I don't think so." He shifted, leaning in just slightly. "You can't ignore it forever, Vincent."

For the first time, Vincent turned to face him—just for a second. And in that second, Zane saw it.

The crack in Vincent's perfect composure.

It was quick, but it was there. A flicker of hesitation. A flicker of something more.

Zane didn't push further. Not yet. But he knew one thing for certain.

Vincent Graves was fighting a battle within himself.

And sooner or later?

He was going to lose.

---

End of Chapter 18.