NO TURNING BACK

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Chapter 53 – No Turning Back

Zane didn't leave.

Vincent didn't make him.

Instead, they stood there—two forces on the verge of colliding.

Zane exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You're really gonna do this, huh?"

Vincent's expression was unreadable. "I don't have a choice."

Zane let out a bitter laugh. "Bullshit. There's always a choice."

Vincent's jaw tightened. "Not this time."

Zane stepped closer. "You kill Lancaster, and what? You think everything just ends?" He shook his head. "You're not stupid, Vincent. You know damn well this doesn't stop with him."

Vincent didn't argue.

Didn't deny it.

Because he knew.

Zane's chest ached. "Then why?"

Vincent's eyes flickered. "Because if I don't, he'll come for you."

Zane's breath caught.

Vincent looked away. "And I won't let that happen."

Silence.

Zane swallowed, forcing himself to breathe. "So that's it, then?" His voice was quiet now. "You'd rather burn everything to the ground than risk losing me?"

Vincent didn't answer.

Didn't have to.

Zane's stomach twisted.

This was it. The moment he realized—Vincent wasn't trying to push him away because he didn't care.

He was doing it because he did.

Zane clenched his fists. "You idiot."

Vincent finally looked at him. "What?"

Zane exhaled sharply. "You think protecting me means cutting me out?" He stepped even closer, eyes burning. "You think I'd rather watch you go down alone than fight with you?"

Vincent's lips parted slightly, like he wanted to argue—like he needed to.

But Zane didn't let him.

"I'm not leaving," Zane murmured, voice softer now. "Not now. Not ever."

Vincent's breathing was heavier.

Zane reached out—fingers brushing against Vincent's wrist, lingering just long enough to make his pulse spike.

For a second—just a second—Vincent leaned in.

Then—

A loud crash echoed from below.

Both of them tensed.

Zane cursed under his breath. "Shit."

Vincent was already moving. "Stay close."

Zane rolled his eyes but followed, pulse racing.

Because whatever was waiting for them downstairs—

It wasn't good.

And this?

This was just the beginning.

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The Ambush

The second they reached the stairwell, Vincent grabbed Zane's wrist, pulling him back.

"Wait." His voice was low, barely above a whisper.

Zane frowned but stayed still, straining to listen.

Footsteps. Multiple.

And they weren't alone.

Vincent's grip tightened. "It's them."

Zane swore under his breath. He didn't need to ask who them was.

Lancaster's men.

Vincent's expression was like stone. "They found us faster than I expected."

Zane gave him a sharp look. "Gee, I wonder why. Maybe because you've been pissing off a crime lord for months?"

Vincent ignored the jab, eyes locked on the shadows moving below. He reached for the knife at his waist, steady and focused.

Zane, on the other hand, had nothing but his fists and a rapidly rising heart rate.

"Fantastic," he muttered. "I love being unarmed."

Vincent barely glanced at him before shoving a second blade into his palm. "Then fix that."

Zane blinked down at the weapon. "You just carry extra knives?"

Vincent gave him a dry look. "You don't?"

Zane grinned despite himself. "I knew I liked you."

Vincent rolled his eyes but didn't respond.

The footsteps stopped.

Silence.

A cold, expectant kind of silence.

Then—

A voice.

Low. Familiar.

And amused.

"Well, well. Looks like we finally caught a snake in his own den."

Zane stiffened. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Vincent's expression darkened. "Cain."

Cain stepped into the dim light, flanked by two of Lancaster's men. He was wearing that damn smirk—the one that made Zane want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.

"Miss me?" Cain drawled, tilting his head.

Zane scoffed. "Like a bullet to the skull."

Cain chuckled, but his eyes were sharp. Too sharp.

Vincent didn't move. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Cain sighed, dragging a hand through his dark hair. "Same thing as you, sweetheart. Trying to survive." He gestured vaguely. "Only difference is—I'm actually good at it."

Vincent's fingers twitched around his blade. "You sold us out."

Cain's smirk faded.

For the first time since he walked in, he hesitated.

And that?

That was worse than an outright confession.

Vincent's jaw clenched. "You bastard."

Cain exhaled. "It's not that simple."

"Sure it is," Zane cut in, anger flaring in his chest. "You betrayed us."

Cain's lips pressed into a thin line. "I made a choice."

Vincent's voice was ice. "A choice that puts a target on our backs."

Cain's gaze flickered—just for a second—to Zane.

And that was all the confirmation he needed.

Zane swore. "You did this to protect me."

Cain didn't deny it.

Vincent let out a bitter laugh. "Unbelievable."

Cain's voice was quieter now. "I had to."

Vincent took a slow step forward. "No, you didn't." His eyes were burning now, fire barely contained. "You could've warned us. Could've given us a chance to fight back."

Cain's expression was unreadable. "And then what?" He shook his head. "You really think you can take Lancaster down?"

Vincent didn't blink. "Yes."

Cain inhaled sharply.

And for the first time—he looked afraid.

Because Vincent wasn't bluffing.

He wasn't backing down.

And Cain?

Cain had just realized—

He'd picked the wrong side.

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