Chapter Thirteen

—The Secrets We Keep

The 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 and encrypted memos she’d pulled from forgotten corners of the server. The deeper she dug, the clearer the pattern became — hidden accounts, missing transfers, sudden offshore movements all tied to one name.

Zane’s.

At first, she refused to believe it. But the evidence grew like rot — undeniable, spreading. Every click of her mouse felt like a betrayal, every new discovery another cut.

When the knock came at midnight, she froze.

Her heart beat once, twice, and then she opened the door.

Zane stood there — rain-soaked, eyes hollow, jaw tight with something that wasn’t anger but desperation.

He looked nothing like the man she’d kissed. He looked hunted.

“Zane,” she breathed. “Where have you—”

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, locking it. “You shouldn’t be digging.”

“So it’s true,” she said. “You are involved.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Then tell me what it is!”

He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing like a man trapped in his own mind. “There’s a reason I didn’t want you near that deal. It’s not clean. The partners are using shell companies to funnel—” He stopped. “You don’t need to know the details.”

“The partners?” Her voice sharpened. “You mean your family, don’t you?”

His silence was answer enough.

Aurora’s pulse thundered. “You were protecting them.”

“I was protecting you,” he snapped. “Do you have any idea what they’re capable of?”

“I don’t care,” she said, voice breaking. “You lied to me. You made me believe I could trust you.”

He turned toward her, expression raw. “You can trust me. That’s the problem.”

The room felt too small, too dark. Rain whispered against the windows like the city itself was holding its breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.

“Because once you know, you can’t unknow. And once they realize you’ve seen behind the curtain, they’ll come for you, too.”

“Then let them,” she said. “I’m not afraid.”

He closed the distance between them in three steps, cupping her face with trembling hands. “You should be.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and for the first time, she saw fear in his eyes — not for himself, but for her.

Her hands found his wrists. “Then stop running and let me stand beside you.”

For a long, tortured moment, he just stared at her — torn between surrender and survival. Then, quietly, he said, “There’s something you need to see.”

---

The drive through the city was silent.

He didn’t speak, didn’t explain. Aurora watched the rain blur through the windshield, lights streaking past like falling stars. They ended up at an old warehouse on the river’s edge — unmarked, forgotten, the kind of place that hid things people weren’t meant to find.

Zane keyed open a side door, and the hum of servers filled the air — a private network, dozens of screens streaming encrypted data. Aurora stepped closer, scanning the monitors.

“What is this?”

“Proof,” he said. “Everything I’ve been gathering on them.”

“Them — your family.”

He nodded. “Wilson Group looks legitimate from the outside, but half the subsidiaries are laundering money through fake investments. I tried to shut it down quietly. They found out. That’s why I had to disappear.”

She stared at the streams of data. “You’re risking everything.”

“I already have.” He turned toward her. “And now you have too.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but the sharp buzz of an incoming message cut through the silence. Zane checked the monitor — and froze.

“What?” she asked.

His face went pale. “They know we’re here.”

Before she could react, the lights flickered. A car engine roared outside, doors slammed, footsteps echoed through the rain.

“Zane—”

He grabbed her hand. “We have to go. Now.”

They sprinted toward the back exit, his grip iron-tight. The rain was relentless, the night alive with shadows. A figure appeared at the corner of the building, shouting something she couldn’t hear. Then the sound of glass shattering — a warning, or a promise.

Zane pulled her into an alley, pressing her against the wall, both of them breathless.

“Don’t say a word,” he whispered. “If they find us—”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You might have to.”

“I said I’m not.”

He looked at her then, rain dripping from his lashes, jaw clenched in a mix of anger and something heartbreakingly tender. “You don’t understand. They’ll use you to destroy me.”

“Then let them try,” she said fiercely. “Because if they come for you, they’ll have to go through me.”

For a moment, time fractured — the world narrowing to the heat of his breath, the pulse of danger around them, the electric pull that refused to break.

Then, softly, he kissed her.

It wasn’t the desperate hunger of before — it was a vow, a confession, a goodbye. And when he pulled away, his eyes were full of something she didn’t want to name.

“Zane…” she whispered.

He brushed a thumb across her lips. “If I don’t make it out of this, promise me you’ll run.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Promise me.”

“I can’t.”

He smiled — sad, devastating. “That’s why I fell for you.”

Before she could answer, headlights flared at the end of the alley. Voices shouted. Zane turned, body tense.

“Aurora — run!”

She didn’t.

---

The scene dissolved into chaos — rain, shouting, the thud of boots against concrete. Aurora saw Zane move toward the oncoming lights, drawing their attention away from her. Then the sharp crack of something — not thunder.

She gasped. The sound echoed through her bones.

And when the lights went dark, Zane was gone.

---

Aurora fell to her knees in the rain, the city roaring around her.

Somewhere in the chaos, a new truth had been born — one she wasn’t ready to face.

Zane hadn’t just been lost to his secrets.

He’d been taken by them.

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