Chapter 13:A fire That Cannot Be Extinguished

The kiss consumed her.

Jane had never known a touch like this—urgent, desperate, filled with so much longing it left her breathless. Jack's lips moved against hers as if he had been starving for this moment, as if he had been waiting his whole life to taste her.

And God help her—she didn't want him to stop.

Her fingers curled into his damp shirt, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her upright. His hands—strong, sure—held her face, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. The warmth of his body pressed against hers, igniting a fire she had never dared to feel before.

But then—

Reality crashed down on her like a cold wave.

With a sharp gasp, Jane pulled away.

She stumbled back, her fingers brushing against her swollen lips.

Jack's breathing was ragged, his hands still half-reaching for her. His blue eyes—burning with emotion—searched her face, silently pleading for her not to run.

But she had to.

She took another step back. "We can't," she whispered, her voice shaky.

Jack's jaw tightened. "Jane—"

She shook her head. "Your mother—your family—this will ruin you."

Jack let out a sharp laugh, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Ruin me?" He took a step closer, his voice lowering. "Don't you understand? You're the only thing keeping me whole."

Jane's heart clenched painfully.

She wanted to believe him.

She wanted to throw caution to the wind and lose herself in him.

But she knew better.

She knew what happened to people like her when they reached too far—when they desired something beyond their station.

She had seen it before.

She had lived it.

And she wasn't foolish enough to think she could escape the same fate.

"I have to go," she whispered.

Jack's expression darkened. "Jane—"

She turned and fled before he could stop her.

---

A Dangerous Game

For the next few days, Jane avoided Jack as much as possible.

She worked tirelessly, keeping her head down, refusing to acknowledge the way his gaze followed her every move.

But it was impossible to ignore him completely.

Jack was not a man who accepted defeat easily.

Every time she walked into a room, he was there. Every time she tried to disappear into the background, he found her. His presence was overwhelming, his frustration palpable.

And Jane felt herself weakening.

Her heart betrayed her every time she saw him, every time their eyes met across the grand halls of the Lawrence estate.

But she could not afford to give in.

She could not let herself hope for something that could never be.

Then, one evening, Jack finally cornered her.

Jane had just finished setting the table for dinner when she felt him behind her.

She stiffened.

Slowly, she turned.

Jack stood there, arms crossed, his blue eyes filled with quiet determination.

"We need to talk," he said.

Jane's heart raced. "There's nothing to say."

Jack arched a brow. "Is that so?"

She nodded, avoiding his gaze.

His lips pressed into a thin line. Then, without another word, he reached out—

And took her hand.

Jane sucked in a breath, her pulse quickening.

"Tell me," Jack said softly, "that you feel nothing for me."

Jane's throat tightened.

He was too close.

Too warm.

Too much.

"I…" Her voice wavered.

Jack stepped even closer, his fingers tightening around hers.

"You can lie to yourself," he murmured, "but don't lie to me."

Jane's eyes burned with unshed tears.

She had spent her whole life fighting for survival, for dignity, for control.

But with Jack…

She was losing.

Her silence was answer enough.

Jack's expression softened. "Let me love you, Jane."

Jane squeezed her eyes shut. "It's not that simple."

Jack exhaled sharply. "Yes, it is. You just have to let go."

She wanted to.

God, she wanted to.

But she couldn't.

And before she could say something foolish—before she could give in—

Margaret's voice rang through the air.

"Jane."

The sound was like a blade slicing through the moment.

Jane jerked her hand back as if burned, spinning around to face the woman who could end her entire life with a single word.

Margaret Lawrence stood in the doorway, her sharp gaze flickering between them.

Jack's face hardened instantly. "Mother."

Margaret's lips curved into a cold smile. "I see you've been busy."

Jane's stomach twisted.

She knew that look.

She knew what was coming.

And she was powerless to stop it.

---

Margaret's Final Warning

Margaret didn't acknowledge Jane as she stepped forward, her gaze locked onto her son.

"You're making a fool of yourself," she said, her voice deceptively calm.

Jack didn't flinch. "And you're making a mistake."

Margaret's expression darkened. "Do you think I will let you throw your future away for her?"

Jack's jaw clenched. "She has a name."

Margaret's gaze flickered toward Jane.

Then, slowly, she smiled.

A slow, chilling smile that sent a shiver down Jane's spine.

"Fine," she said. "Let's put this to the test."

Jane's breath caught.

Margaret turned to her. "You love my son?"

Jane's lips parted, but no sound came out.

Margaret's smile widened. "Tell me, dear. Are you willing to ruin him for love?"

Jack stepped forward angrily, but Margaret held up a hand.

"Answer me, Jane."

Jane's pulse thundered in her ears.

Her entire body trembled.

And she knew.

This was a battle she could never win.

Slowly, she looked up at Jack.

She let herself memorize his face—every sharp line, every soft curve, every piece of him she would never be allowed to have.

Then she turned to Margaret and whispered the lie that shattered her soul.

"No."

Jack froze.

The room fell into dead silence.

Margaret smiled in victory.

Jane forced herself to stand tall, even as her heart broke into pieces.

Jack's face was unreadable.

Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.

Jane watched him go, her entire body screaming at her to call him back.

But she didn't.

She had saved him.

She had protected him.

So why did it feel like she had just destroyed them both?

---

The Fire That Refuses to Die

Jane felt empty as she returned to her small room that night.

Her heart was shattered, her soul in pieces.

She had done what was right.

She had done what was necessary.

But her love for Jack burned within her still—a fire that could not be extinguished, no matter how hard she tried to smother it.

In the darkness, she allowed herself to weep.

For the love she could never have.

For the man she would always crave.

And for the battle she knew had only just begun.