CHAPTER 8

“You’re really going to just sit there and not touch me?” Zack’s voice was a jagged edge in the dark of the bedroom.

Nathan didn’t answer with words. He moved. The heavy, expensive fabric of his suit jacket hit the floor with a dull thud. He loomed over the bed, a wall of pure, terrifying muscle that blotted out the city lights bleeding through the windows of the Havenfall penthouse. His fingers, calloused and smelling of expensive bourbon, snapped around Zack’s wrists. He pinned them to the headboard.

“Don’t push me, Zack,” Nathan growled. The silver in his eyes wasn't a glow; it was a cold, metallic hunger.

Zack didn't flinch. He arched his back, the silk sheets sliding against his skin as he sought the crushing weight of the man above him. Nathan’s mouth slammed onto his. It wasn't a kiss; it was a claim. It tasted of smoke and high-stakes desperation. Zack opened for him, his tongue tangling with Nathan’s in a messy, frantic rhythm.

Ten days. Ten days until the contract was void. Ten days until Nathan walked out of this life and back to Madeline.

Nathan’s hands slid down, tearing at Zack’s shirt. Buttons skittered across the floor like teeth. He buried his face in the crook of Zack’s neck, his teeth grazing the pulse point there until Zack let out a wrecked, high-pitched sound.

“Please, Nathan. Now.”

Nathan’s hand moved between them, fumbling with his belt. He was drunk, his movements lacking their usual surgical precision, which only made him feel more dangerous. He stripped Zack bare, his eyes devouring every inch of the pale, wiry body he’d spent three years protecting.

Nathan’s fingers were blunt instruments as he prepped Zack, the friction borderline painful but exactly what Zack needed to feel real. He rolled Zack onto his stomach, shoving his face into the pillow. The weight of Nathan’s body was a mountain, pinning Zack into the mattress.

“You’re mine for ten more nights,” Nathan hissed into his ear.

He drove into Zack in one heavy, punishing thrust. Zack’s eyes blew wide, his fingers clawing at the sheets as his body stretched to accommodate the thick, unyielding length of him. It was raw. It was the messy reality of two people who were supposed to be business partners but had accidentally become a tragedy. Nathan pounded into him, each stroke a brutal reminder of the clock ticking down.

Zack’s breath came in sobbing hitches. He felt the salt of Nathan’s sweat dripping onto his back, the heat of their skin creating a slick, sliding friction that made his head spin. He reached back, his hand finding Nathan’s thigh, clinging to the solid muscle as Nathan lost control.

Nathan’s movements became frantic, a desperate, grinding pace that sent white-hot sparks behind Zack’s eyelids. Zack screamed into the pillow, his body tightening, vibrating, until he came hard against the sheets, his vision blurring. Seconds later, Nathan let out a low, guttural roar, his body tensing into a bow as he poured himself into Zack, his weight finally collapsing fully onto Zack’s back.

They lay there in the aftermath, lungs burning, the scent of sex and bourbon heavy in the air.

“We were a match,” Nathan muttered, his voice thick with a strange, slurred grief. “We were supposed to be the perfect union, but we never got to be... not really.”

Zack froze. The air in the room turned to ice. Madeline. Nathan was thinking about the life he was forced to give up to save Zack from Logan. The guilt hit Zack like a physical blow. He pushed at Nathan’s heavy shoulders, scrambling out from under him.

“I’m sorry,” Zack whispered, his voice cracking. He didn't wait for a response. He grabbed his discarded clothes and fled.

9 Days Until the Rejection Ceremony

The morning light was a middle finger to Zack’s throbbing head. He barely made it to the bathroom before his stomach revolted. He slumped against the cold tile, his hand trembling as it rested on his flat belly.

“Morning sickness,” he croaked to the empty room. “Perfect timing, kid.”

He had to get out. He had to think. But his phone chirped on the nightstand. A message from an unknown number.

Zack, it’s Madeline. We need to talk. Full Moon Cafe? Noon.

Zack stared at the screen. He didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want to look at the man-eater who was waiting to step into his shoes. But the debt he felt toward Nathan—the three years of stolen time—pushed him out the door.

The Full Moon Cafe was a quiet, high-end spot on the edge of the Cocolink territory. Madeline was already there. She looked like a million dollars in a tailored white dress, her blonde hair perfectly coiffed. She was everything Zack wasn’t: stable, powerful, and whole.

“Look,” Madeline started, her voice high and sharp as a violin string. “I saw how you looked last night at the club. I just wanted to tell you... nothing happened. Nathan didn't touch me.”

Zack poked at the foam of a cappuccino he couldn't drink. “Oh?”

“I’m serious. He’s a man of his word. He won’t do anything until the papers are signed.” She leaned in, her brown eyes tracking Zack’s every flinch. “I’m just so damn excited. We’ve waited so long for this to be over. I can’t believe it’s actually happening.”

Zack felt the bile rising again. “I’m sorry, Madeline. I didn't mean to come between you.”

Madeline’s face softened, but it felt performative. “Don't blame yourself, Zack. Julian Wright is the one who played god. He didn't care about Nathan’s happiness. He just wanted a piece on the board.”

“What do you mean?” Zack asked, his heart skipping a beat.

“The threats,” she said offhandedly, waving a manicured hand. “Julian told me in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t disappear three years ago, he’d ‘persuade’ me to leave in a body bag. He didn't think Nathan would marry you if I was still in the city. He needed Nathan focused on you. On the bloodline.”

Zack’s hand gripped the table until his knuckles turned white. “Julian threatened to kill you?”

“He would have done it, too,” Madeline whispered, a genuine shiver crossing her shoulders. “I had to run. I wasn't strong enough to fight a man like Julian. I wish I could say I fought for him, but I was terrified. For my life, for my family. He was going to murder me to make sure Nathan said ‘I do.’”

Zack looked away, the neon lights of the cafe blurring. Nathan hadn't chosen him. Nathan had been blackmailed into a marriage to save the woman he actually loved. And now, Zack was carrying a baby that would only act as a new set of chains.

“Did you never wonder?” Madeline asked, her voice dropping to a sympathetic purr. “Why a man like Nathan Durand would just give up everything he wanted for a kid from a basement?”

Zack didn't answer. He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“I have to go,” he said, his voice a ghost.

He walked out into the Havenfall rain, the cold water soaking through his shirt. He had nine days to disappear. He wouldn't let Julian Wright use this baby as a weapon. He wouldn't let Nathan find out that the ‘sacrifice’ was finally complete.

As he reached his car, a black sedan with tinted windows pulled up alongside him. The back door opened.

“Get in, Zack,” a familiar, gravelly voice commanded.

It wasn't Nathan. It was Ethan Cole.