WALKING AWAY DOESN'T MEAN LETTING GO.
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Volume 3, Chapter 100 – Walking Away Doesn't Mean Letting Go
Zane didn't stop walking.
Didn't look back.
Didn't hesitate.
Not as he stepped into the elevator, not as the doors slid shut, not as the descent began.
But his hands?
They were clenched.
His jaw was tight, his pulse erratic, and no matter how steady he kept his breathing, it wasn't enough.
Because something inside him—something deep, something dangerous—was cracking.
Vincent had let him leave.
That was the part he couldn't wrap his head around.
Vincent Kieran, the man who never let anything slip from his grasp. The man who controlled everything.
Had let him walk away.
And for what?
For a lie?
For a secret?
For something Vincent had no right keeping from him?
The elevator doors slid open, and the night air hit him like a slap. Sharp. Cold. Unforgiving.
Zane stepped out, heading for his car.
His fingers trembled as he pulled out his keys, but he forced himself to stay calm. Forced himself to shove the emotions down.
He wasn't mad.
No, he was furious.
But beneath that?
There was something worse.
Something ugly.
Hurt.
Because fuck, he had trusted Vincent.
Had let himself believe, even for a second, that they were different. That this wasn't just another game, another power struggle.
But maybe he'd been wrong.
Maybe Vincent was just like everyone else.
Using him. Playing him.
Keeping him close only when it was convenient.
Zane clenched his jaw, slipping into the driver's seat.
His phone buzzed.
He ignored it.
It buzzed again.
And again.
Finally, he exhaled sharply and checked the screen.
Nathan.
Zane's grip tightened.
His brother.
The same brother who had just sent Vincent a cryptic message about him.
Zane's lips curled into a bitter smirk.
Perfect timing.
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Elsewhere – Nathan Harrington
Nathan leaned against the bar, phone in hand, eyes flickering over the message he'd sent an hour ago.
No response.
Not from Vincent.
Not from Zane.
Interesting.
He took a slow sip of his drink, tapping his fingers against the counter. He had expected resistance, but silence?
That was more telling than any reaction.
It meant Vincent was scrambling.
It meant Zane was thinking.
And that?
That was exactly what he wanted.
A slow smile spread across his lips.
This was only the beginning.
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Back to Zane
Zane tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.
Then, finally—
He called.
Nathan picked up on the first ring.
"Well, well," Nathan drawled. "Was wondering when you'd call."
Zane's voice was quiet. Controlled. Dangerous.
"You and I need to talk."
Nathan chuckled. "Oh, little brother, we're way past talking."
Zane's grip tightened. "I'm not in the mood for games."
"No?" Nathan hummed. "Then you're going to hate what comes next."
Zane exhaled sharply. "Cut the shit, Nathan. What the hell is going on?"
Silence.
Then, softly—
"You already know the answer to that."
And that?
That was when Zane realized—
Nathan wasn't just messing with him.
Nathan knew something.
Something real.
Something that could shatter everything.
And Zane?
He had no choice but to find out what it was.
Even if it destroyed him.
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