A DANGEROUS LINE.

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Volume 3, Chapter 99 – A Dangerous Line

The city outside was restless—cars slicing through the streets, the glow of distant buildings casting long shadows against the glass.

But inside Vincent's office?

It was still.

Not the kind of silence that brought peace, but the kind that carried weight.

The kind that came before a storm.

Zane stood by the desk, Vincent's phone in his hand. The screen still lit up with that message.

Nathan's message.

A conversation Vincent never wanted him to see.

Vincent was across the room, his posture unreadable—but Zane wasn't fooled. He knew Vincent's tells. The way his fingers curled slightly, the tension at the corners of his jaw.

This wasn't just some message.

It was something deeper.

Something bigger.

And Vincent didn't want him to know.

Zane's lips curled into a slow smirk, but his eyes? They weren't amused.

"So." His voice was light, almost mocking. "You gonna tell me what this is about, or do I have to start guessing?"

Vincent didn't move. "Give me the phone, Zane."

The command was soft. Controlled.

But Zane had never been the type to obey.

He tilted his head, tapping a finger against the screen. "That's not an answer, Vincent."

Vincent took a step forward. Not aggressive, not pleading—just steady.

"Give it to me."

Zane arched a brow, spinning the phone between his fingers. "You know," he mused, "I was actually on my way back when I saw the notification."

He took a step closer. "Funny, isn't it?"

Vincent said nothing.

Zane exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I just went to get a fucking glass of water. Water, Vincent. And in those few minutes, my phone gets this message."

His gaze sharpened. "From Nathan."

He let the words hang in the air, waiting—watching.

Vincent's expression didn't change. "Zane, I—"

"Don't."

One word. Sharp. Final.

Vincent closed his mouth.

Zane stepped even closer, pressing the phone to his own chest. His heart was pounding, but his voice stayed level.

"Just tell me," he murmured. "Tell me why my brother is messaging you about me."

The pause stretched too long.

Too fucking long.

And Zane felt something shift inside him.

Vincent wasn't thinking about how to explain.

He was deciding whether to tell the truth at all.

Zane let out a humorless laugh. "You knew, didn't you?"

Vincent exhaled, slow. "Zane—"

"You fucking knew."

Vincent's jaw tensed.

Zane's grip on the phone tightened.

"You've been keeping things from me," Zane said, voice low, dangerous. "And I let it slide, because you're you. Because trust isn't easy for you. Because I fucking get it."

A pause.

"But this?" His fingers curled into his palm. "This isn't just some business secret. This is Nathan. My family. And you knew something was going on, and you didn't tell me."

Vincent looked away for a second. Just a second. But it was enough.

Zane inhaled sharply. Fuck.

"You're protecting him." The realization hit like a punch to the gut.

Vincent's gaze snapped back. "No."

"No?" Zane let out a cold laugh. "Then tell me the truth. Right now. No games. No excuses."

Silence.

And that?

That fucking said everything.

Zane let the phone drop onto the desk with a soft thud.

His stomach was twisting, his pulse erratic, but his voice stayed calm.

"This is your last chance, Vincent." He met Vincent's gaze. Held it. "Tell me."

Vincent exhaled. "I can't."

Zane went still.

His fingers brushed against the desk before he took a step back.

Vincent didn't move. Didn't say anything.

And that?

That told Zane everything he needed to know.

He turned. Started walking toward the door.

Vincent's voice was quiet. "Zane."

Zane paused.

But he didn't turn around.

Because if he did, he might do something stupid.

He might forgive too quickly. Might pretend this didn't cut as deep as it did.

And he couldn't.

Not this time.

"You don't get to ask me to trust you," he said, voice even, "when you won't even trust me."

Then he walked out.

And for the first time, Vincent let him go.

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