Chapter Eighteen

The Space Where You Should BE

AURORA

The world returned in fragments.

Cold marble beneath my cheek.

A metallic ringing in my ears.

The faint, acrid sting of gunpowder hangs in the air.

I blinked hard, once, twice, until the blur sharpened into the ruined penthouse. The shattered window gaped open like a wound, curtains billowing with the night wind. The city lights outside flickered against the broken glass scattered across the floor like fallen stars.

“Zane?” My voice was a rasp, barely air.

Silence answered me.

My pulse spiked as I pushed myself up, wincing. Something warm trickled down my temple — blood. I wiped it away, ignoring the tremor in my hands.

The room was empty.

No gunmen.

No footsteps.

No Zane.

A slice of dread cut through me so violently I had to grip the counter to stay upright. He’d been right beside me. He’d shoved me down, shielded me, then—

Then what?

I staggered toward the broken window. On the floor, half-hidden under a piece of fallen metal, was a single smear of dark red.

Blood.

Fresh.

Zane’s.

My heart dropped.

“No,” I whispered, the word cracking in half. “No, no, no—”

He couldn’t be gone. Not like this. Not again. Losing him once had shattered me. The idea of losing him twice—of losing him forever—was a pain that sank its claws into my ribs.

But there was nobody.

No trail.

Just emptiness.

And emptiness was worse than death — it meant someone had taken him… or he’d chosen to disappear.

My hands curled into trembling fists.

He wouldn’t leave me. Not after the way he kissed me. Not after he said I was the match, the fire, the ruin he still wanted.

I scanned the room again—and then I saw it.

The counter.

A small indent in the marble surface.

And beside it…

A single cufflink.

Black.

Silver-edged.

Tattooed with the faintest letter:

A

My initial.

My throat tightened painfully. He’d worn these once—at the hotel, in that first night that had spiraled everything out of control. I’d teased him then, joked about a man like him wearing something sentimental.

He’d said, “It’s not sentimental. It’s strategic.”

But Zane never left anything behind accidentally.

This was a message.

He wanted me to know he was alive.

He wanted me to find him.

My fingers closed around the cufflink like it was the last piece of him I’d ever touch.

“Where are you?” I whispered.

Outside, sirens wailed somewhere far away, mocking me with their useless noise. I pocketed the cufflink, straightened my spine, and stepped back from the window.

If he was alive, I’d find him.

If someone had taken him, I’d burn the world to the ground to get him back.

One last thing caught my eye — the flash drive he’d pressed into my palm.

Except… it was gone.

My chest constricted.

Someone else had been here.

Someone fast.

Someone precise.

Someone who knew exactly what that drive contained.

And that meant Zane was in far more danger than I was.

I closed my fist around emptiness and forced myself to breathe. “I’m coming, Zane,” I murmured into the ruined room. “Even if you don’t want to be found.”

And for the first time in my life, the fear wasn’t about losing him.

It was about finding the truth.

A truth I wasn’t sure either of us could survive.

---

ZANE

Pain woke me before consciousness did.

A white-hot bolt cutting through my ribs.

The taste of iron thick in my mouth.

The sensation of movement — rough, jostling, hands gripping my arms.

I forced my eyes open.

Shadows.

A van interior.

Two men in black masks holding me upright like dead weight.

“You hit him too hard,” one muttered.

“He’ll live,” the other replied. “He’s worth more alive.”

I tried to move — my body protested with another blast of pain. My head pulsed. I remembered the gunfire. The window shattering. Aurora’s scream. Her body under mine.

Aurora.

My breath punched out of me. “Where—”

A fist slammed into my side, cutting off the word.

“Don’t speak,” the man snarled.

I let my head fall back, pain slicing through my vision. But relief — cold, shaking relief — bled through it.

They hadn’t taken her.

They’d taken me.

Good.

She was the one thing I couldn’t let them touch.

My wrists burned where they’d zip-tied them. My muscles screamed. But I was alive. Barely. And that meant I could still protect her.

They thought taking me would stop her.

They had no idea who she’d become.

Aurora wasn’t soft anymore. I had sharpened her by accident—and now she was a blade glinting in the dark. If they pushed her, she’d cut them apart.

But God help me…

A part of me wanted her to come.

Wanted her to find me.

Wanted to see what she’d do to save me.

Pathetic, maybe.

But Aurora was the only weakness I’d ever chosen.

A jolt rocked the van. The men steadied themselves. One tapped a communication device on his ear.

“He’s awake,” he said. “Prep the room. The boss wants him conscious.”

A slow, vicious smile curled across my lips despite the pain.

The boss.

So that was who had stepped out of the shadows after all.

Good.

I’d been waiting to meet them.

But Aurora—

Aurora would come. I knew she would. And when she did, everything would burn.

One of the men noticed my smile.

“What’s funny?” he growled.

I met his eyes, blood on my teeth, and whispered:

“She’s coming.”

---

AURORA

I walked out of the penthouse with fire in my veins and his cufflink in my palm.

Whatever game had begun —

It wasn’t Zane who should be afraid.

It was whoever thought they could take him away from me.