LOGINZane's POV
I laughed out loud as I watched her leave, the echo of the doors clicking shut punctuating the silence of my office.
She was feisty and brave. I liked that.
Most women would have crumbled under that kind of pressure, but Aurora....she was different.
She was petite, cute, and sharp tongued. Her dark, long hair was packed in a neat bun that accentuated the delicate curve her neck and cheekbones. It gave her a refined, almost untouchable air, which, of course, only made me want to touch her more. The gown she wore today, clung to her curves and showed off her straight legs. The moment I laid eyes on her during the meeting, I knew she was going to be the end of me. Actually- I realized that the day she ditched me at the hotel.
No woman had ever done that, and also- no woman had ever denied me the way she just did. The memory still stung, a small, irritating itch beneath my skin.
(Flashback)
When I came back to the hotel bed to meet it empty, I had expected a note, or a phone number written somewhere on the bedside table. Hell, I didn't even expect her to be gone at all. Like other women, I expected her to still be naked, lying on the bed, begging for more.
Not only was I Zane Wilson, I was also extremely handsome and always impeccably dressed, women practically threw themselves at my feet.
But no- I met none of that. Instead, the room was empty, expect just the lingering scent of her perfume and the faint impression her body had left on the sheets.
My pride was hurt, more than I cared to admit, but I was also intrigued. There was something about her that set her apart, an air of Independence and self possession that I found incredibly alluring.
And then-her beauty and her body.
The combo was prefect.
I found her purse on the floor, discarded carelessly like an afterthought. I picked it up and rifled through its contents, searching for some clue on her Identity.
Suddenly, a passport fell out. I picked it up, a smirk tugging at my lips as I read the name.
Aurora Lupin.
So...that was her name. It was a name that was intriguing and mysterious as the woman herself.
I sat on the edge of the bed, still holding her passport in my hand. I'll find you Aurora, I will find you.
Just as fate would have it, weeks later she applied for a job at my company. When I got the news from the HR, I was more than pleased. After all the searching, she finally came to me herself. Wonderful.
(End of flashback)
At first, I just thought she'd be someone for the time, a thing to play around with until I got bored. A brief distraction to alleviate the monotony of my life. But now, something had shifted, I was hooked.
And I'm not going to stop until I get what I want.
Her.
~
I practically did nothing much today in my office. My mind was completely occupied by the thoughts of Aurora. I couldn't stop thinking about her, about that night, about the way she felt in my arms. I glanced at my clock from time to time, the impatience gnawing at me.
Finally! Work's over. I picked up my jacket and left my office. I needed to see her, I don't know why, but I just needed to.
On my way to the elevator, I stumbled into a young girl, one of the interns. When her eyes met mine, she became nervous, her bottom lios quivered, but her eyes told me otherwise.
"I'm so sorry sir!" She yelled, bowing deeply. From the angle I was, I could see the swell of her breasts, straining against the thin fabric of her blouse. It was almost as if she purposely did this. A calculated maneuver that I'd seen a million times before.
"Next time, dress appropriately for work," I said with disdain, my voice cold and dismissive. I had no interest in her, or in any other woman for that matter.
I continued to the elevator.
Unfortunately, a man like me who always had women at his beck and call, hadn't laid with a woman for almost a month- ever since I touched Aurora, I couldn't help but want more.
Something about her was different compared to the rest, a raw, untamed energy that I found incredibly intoxicating. I felt myself getting hard upon that night, the way her skin had felt beneath my fingers, her breathless gasps shed tried so hard to stifle.
She looked hurt that day...but in my arms, she was different.
I really want to know more about you, Aurora. In so many ways possible.
When the elevator door opened and I stepped out, the first person my eyes landed on was Aurora. The sight of her sent a jolt of pure, possessive desire through me. And when her eyes landed on me, they widened for a split second, betraying her surprise, and then she frowned, quickly masking her reaction.
I smirked as I began to walk towards, my gaze never leaving hers. This hallway was empty it's always the first to be empty when works over. She was fetching water from the dispenser, she hadn't even realized that her cup was overflowing because her eyes were still fixed on me.
The moment I was only just a step away from her, I grabbed her arm firmly, but not painfully, and began to drag her along with me, ignoring her protests. I took her to a corner and pushed her inside of an empty office, slamming the door shut behind us.
She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and looked absolutely pissed. Weirdly- her anger face seemed only to make her more attractive. The fire in her yes was like a challenge, a dare to see how far I was willing to go.
"What are you doing?" She demanded, stomping her foot on the floor.
So cute.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" She yelled again.
"Following my head," I said, taking a step closer to her, invading her personal space. I wanted her to feel the heat radiating from me, the intensity of my desire.
She turned me into a maniac, and she will pay for it.
"What?" She blinked at me.
"Aurora," I said, finally closing the gap between us until we were almost touching. "I want you." The words were out before I could stop them, raw and unfiltered. And then I moved to cup her face, but she avoided my grasp with a surprising speed, turning her head away.
I could tell she wasn't going to let me have my way easily, and this turned me on even more.
The Ghost in His EyesThe city didn’t sleep.But Aurora did. For the first time in days, exhaustion dragged her under like a slow tide — and even then, her dreams were knives.When she woke, the sky outside the safe house was a bruised gray. Elara was gone, leaving only a folded note on the counter.> “He’s moving. You’ll find him where the mirrors lie.”No signature. No hint of where or when. Just those words that felt like prophecy.Aurora showered, dressed in black, and stared at her reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror. The woman staring back looked sharper than she remembered — colder, hungrier. Her eyes had lost the softness that once begged to be seen. They were steel now. Zane had forged her into something even he might not be able to control.By the time she reached
The Fire We StartThe key felt impossibly heavy in Aurora’s palm.It had seemed like a trinket when Zane gave it to her — a private joke about destiny and doors and futures. Now, in the thin light of her safe house, it was a detonator. Every legend she’d never asked to be part of, every bargain she’d signed in ambition’s name, converged into the cold metal between her fingers.Elara watched her without comment, the hum of the laptop like the heartbeat of an engine at idle. “You ready to burn it all down?” she asked.Aurora swallowed. “If it’s the only way to find him.” Her voice was calm, but beneath it was a furnace of fear and fury she could no longer ignore. The files had been merciless; Project Lyra had mapped her life like a constellation — intended to be predictable, controllable. She’d been a designed asset, a blade
The Price of LoveWhen Aurora woke, the world was silent.Not the peaceful kind of silence — the kind that follows devastation.A stillness that hums with absence.The warehouse was gone. The rain. The gunfire. Even Zane’s voice — erased as if it had never existed.She was lying on a narrow bed in a dim, unfamiliar room. The air smelled of salt and old wood. Faint light filtered through the cracks in the boarded window. Her head throbbed. Her hands were bandaged.For a few long seconds, she couldn’t move. Her body remembered before her mind did — the sprint through the storm, the shouting, the flash of a gun. And then the sound. That one final sound she had prayed not to hear again.The shot.Her breath came in shallow gasps.“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no…&rdquo
Before the Storm BreaksThe rain didn’t stop for two days.It fell like grief — relentless, heavy, unending — as if the city itself was mourning him.Zane was gone. The sound of that gunshot still lived in Aurora’s bones, replaying over and over until every heartbeat became an echo of that single, deafening moment. The police called it an “incident,” the kind that conveniently disappeared from reports before sunrise. No body was found. No suspects. No proof.Just a smear of blood on the rain-soaked alley floor.But Aurora knew better. Zane wasn’t the type of man to vanish without reason. He was the storm — chaos and control in a single breath. If he was gone, it was because someone had forced his hand. Or worse — because he was playing a game she hadn’t yet learned the rules to.She hadn’t slept. The walls of her apartment were covered with printouts, maps, corporate connections, and photos — a web of ink and red thread that pulsed like a second heart in the room. Every line led back
—The Secrets We KeepThe night Zane walked out of that restaurant, something inside Aurora fractured.Not completely — not the kind of break that bleeds — but a clean, quiet crack that splits truth from illusion.For the first time, she wasn’t sure if she knew the man she’d fallen into.He had vanished again, like smoke curling through her fingers. His number went unanswered, his office suddenly “unavailable,” his apartment — locked, lights off, curtains drawn. It was as if Zane Wilson had been erased.But ghosts always leave traces.Aurora found hers in a single text that arrived two days later, unsigned, untraceable:“Stay away from the Wilson deal. It’s not what you think.”Her heart stuttered. The Wilson deal was his project — the merger she’d built her proposal around. Why would someone warn her about it unless—Unless Zane wasn’t the man running it anymore.Unless he was being run.That night, she sat in her apartment surrounded by paperwork, screens glowing with company files a
— The Obsession CurveThe days after that night were eerily quiet.No messages. No late-night summons. Not even the occasional passing glance that used to send heat curling through Aurora’s veins. Zane had vanished behind the cool mask of professionalism — polite, detached, untouchable.It should have been a relief.Instead, it felt like punishment.Aurora told herself she would focus on work, bury herself in the endless tide of proposals, deals, and client meetings. But his absence followed her like a shadow. Every room he wasn’t in felt wrong, every silence echoed with something unsaid.By Wednesday, she couldn’t stand it anymore.She went to his office after hours, telling herself it was about business — a project update, a contract revision, anything to justify the impulse. But when she opened the door, she froze.Zane was there. Alone.And he looked… undone.His jacket was discarded, his tie loose, his e







