NO TURNING BACK

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Chapter 40 – No Turning Back

The air between them was thick with something unspoken.

Zane stood by the window, watching the city lights flicker like dying embers.

Behind him, Vincent poured another drink—his third, maybe fourth—but he wasn't drinking to relax.

He was drinking to forget.

Zane smirked, turning to face him. "You know," he said, voice smooth, teasing, "for someone who doesn't want to play this game, you sure keep inviting me back."

Vincent's grip on the glass tightened.

"I'm not inviting you anywhere," he muttered.

Zane chuckled, stepping closer. "Oh? So you didn't just kiss me? You didn't just pull me in like you—"

Vincent's gaze snapped to his, dark and dangerous. "Enough."

Zane stopped.

Not because he was afraid.

But because Vincent was afraid.

And that?

That made something twist in his chest.

Zane swallowed, voice quieter now. "Why are you fighting this so hard?"

Vincent exhaled slowly. "Because I can't afford to lose control."

Zane tilted his head, stepping even closer. "And you think I'm the one who'll make you lose it?"

Vincent said nothing.

Didn't have to.

His silence was answer enough.

Zane felt his own pulse quicken, but he kept his smirk in place. "You really think you can keep running from this?"

Vincent's jaw clenched. "I don't run."

Zane raised a brow. "Then prove it."

Another beat of silence.

Then—Vincent moved.

Not hesitant.

Not careful.

This time, he didn't hold back.

One second, Zane was standing there, pushing, teasing—the next, he was against the wall.

Vincent's hands were on either side of him, his body dangerously close.

Zane sucked in a sharp breath, his smirk faltering. Oh.

Vincent's voice was low, almost rough. "You really don't know when to stop, do you?"

Zane licked his lips, his heartbeat pounding. "Wouldn't be fun if I did."

Vincent's gaze flickered down—to his lips—just for a second.

Then he pulled back.

Just like before.

But this time, Zane wasn't letting him go so easily.

Before Vincent could fully step away, Zane grabbed his wrist.

Vincent stilled.

Zane's voice was softer now, serious. "You don't get to act like nothing's happening here."

Vincent didn't pull away.

Didn't speak.

But his fingers curled slightly, as if he were holding on.

Zane took a slow breath, pressing forward. "You want me, Vincent." His voice was steady, sure. "So what the hell are you so afraid of?"

Vincent's expression finally cracked—just a little.

And in that moment, Zane knew.

This wasn't about control.

This was about fear.

Fear of wanting something.

Fear of losing it.

Zane's chest ached in a way he didn't expect.

So, instead of pushing further, he did something else.

He let go.

Stepping back.

Giving Vincent space.

Because if this was going to happen, if Vincent was ever going to stop running—

It had to be his choice.

Zane sighed, forcing a smirk. "Fine. Have it your way." He turned toward the door. "But you know where to find me when you're done lying to yourself."

Vincent didn't stop him.

Didn't call him back.

But as Zane walked out, he knew—this wasn't the end.

Not even close.

It was just the beginning.

And when Vincent finally gave in?

There would be no turning back.

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End of Volume 1.