THE FALL.

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Volume 3, Chapter 90 – The Fall

Zane's grip was tight. Too tight. Like he could keep Vincent here just by holding on.

But Vincent…

Vincent was already slipping.

Cain saw it.

Felt it.

And when he smiled, Vincent knew—he was already his.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" Cain's voice was velvet, slow, deliberate. Dangerous. "You're wondering if it would be easier to stop fighting."

Vincent's breath came sharp. "I—"

"No need to lie." Cain reached out, fingers brushing the back of his hand. Soft. Gentle. Deadly. "You know I already know."

Zane yanked Vincent back, stepping between them. "You don't own him."

Cain only chuckled. "Don't I?"

Vincent shook his head. "You don't."

Cain sighed, head tilting. "Then why, Vincent?" His eyes dropped—to Vincent's hands.

To where his fingers were still shaking.

Still wanting.

"Why do you look like you're afraid of how much you want this?"

Vincent's chest locked.

Because that was the truth, wasn't it?

This wasn't about control.

This wasn't about power.

This was about him.

About how he felt the ground cracking beneath his feet and wasn't sure if he wanted to step back or jump.

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Two Years Ago.

Vincent had been alone. Broken.

And Cain—Cain had been the only one who didn't ask him to pretend.

"You don't have to be good," Cain had murmured, brushing a thumb under his jaw. "You just have to be mine."

Vincent had wanted to push him away. Wanted to say no.

But he had just stood there.

Because when had he ever been able to resist Cain?

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Now.

"Stop it," Vincent whispered. "Stop making it sound like—"

"Like what?" Cain stepped closer, just enough to let their bodies brush. "Like you're already mine?"

Vincent's hands trembled.

Because he could feel it.

The inevitability.

The collapse.

Cain had already won.

Now, he was just waiting for Vincent to admit it.

And the worst part?

Vincent wasn't sure if he wanted to fight it anymore.

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