Chapter Twelve

— The Obsession Curve

The 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 eyes shadowed from too many sleepless nights. Papers littered the floor around his desk like a storm had passed through.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without looking up.

“Then tell me to leave.”

He didn’t. The silence stretched, taut as a wire.

Finally, he met her gaze. “You want the truth, Aurora? You want to know why I pushed you away?”

“Yes.”

“Because I don’t trust myself around you anymore.”

Her breath caught. “You think I do?”

He gave a humorless laugh. “You’re the only person who’s ever made me question everything I built.”

She stepped closer, the air between them thick with tension. “Then stop questioning.”

His eyes darkened, voice low. “You’re dangerous.”

“So are you,” she whispered. “That’s why it works.”

He stood abruptly, the movement sharp, restless. “It doesn’t work. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Then let it happen.”

Something in him snapped. In two strides, he was in front of her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin. His hands hovered at her sides, trembling with restraint.

“You think this is a game,” he murmured. “You have no idea how far I can fall.”

“Then show me.”

For a heartbeat, everything stopped — the air, her thoughts, even time. Then, slowly, Zane reached up and touched her face, his thumb tracing the edge of her jaw like a secret he wasn’t supposed to speak.

“You undo me,” he said softly. “And I hate that I want you anyway.”

She leaned closer, her pulse roaring in her ears. “Then stop pretending.”

The kiss that followed wasn’t gentle. It was fury and confession, hunger and surrender, all at once. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that belonged in the real world — it belonged to two people standing at the edge of a cliff, daring each other to jump first.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard, eyes glazed with the same terrible realization — this was no longer a pact, no longer a transaction. It was something alive, something that could consume them both.

Zane stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “This is a mistake.”

“Then make it again,” she said.

He stared at her for a long moment, torn between logic and something far more dangerous. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of his own office.

---

Aurora didn’t sleep that night.

Every nerve in her body was on fire, every thought tangled in the sound of his voice, the feel of his hands. She had lost control, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it back.

By morning, she’d made a decision.

If Zane Wilson wanted to play ghosts, she would make herself unforgettable. She spent the next week building a project proposal that would shake the company — a merger strategy that could double their international reach. It was risky, audacious, brilliant. The kind of move that demanded his attention.

When she presented it in the next executive meeting, the room fell silent. Even the senior partners exchanged stunned looks. Zane, at the head of the table, watched her with unreadable eyes.

When the presentation ended, he didn’t speak. He just said, “Everyone out.”

The others hesitated, then obeyed.

Once the door clicked shut, Aurora crossed her arms. “Well?”

He rose slowly, circling the table until he stood directly in front of her. “You blindsided me.”

“You told me to impress you.”

“I told you to stay in your lane.”

“Maybe I’m done following your lanes.”

Something like pride flickered in his expression, quickly masked. “You don’t know the risks you just took.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

He moved closer, his voice dropping. “Do you? Because I can’t decide if you’re trying to win this game or burn it down.”

“Maybe both.”

He smiled then — not the polished corporate smile, but something darker, more dangerous. “Careful, Aurora. If you play with fire long enough, you’ll stop noticing the burn.”

“Or maybe,” she said, holding his gaze, “I’ll start enjoying it.”

For a long, charged moment, they just stood there — power against power, will against will. And then, for the first time, Zane looked away.

“Dinner,” he said quietly.

“What?”

“Tomorrow night. No office. No rules.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “Why?”

“Because I’m tired of pretending this is business.”

He walked past her, leaving her stunned, pulse racing. When the door closed behind him, she let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Tomorrow night.

No rules.

---

The restaurant was dimly lit, all velvet shadows and golden light. Aurora arrived in a black dress that fit like a secret — simple, elegant, deliberate. When Zane saw her, his composure cracked for the briefest second.

“You look…” He stopped, searching for words he wasn’t used to needing. “…dangerous.”

“Good,” she said. “So do you.”

Dinner passed in a haze of subtle touches and careful words, both of them circling the truth they weren’t ready to name. When he reached across the table and brushed his fingers over hers, something inside her broke open — a quiet surrender she didn’t plan for.

“Aurora,” he said softly. “What happens when I can’t walk away anymore?”

“Then don’t.”

He exhaled slowly, as if that answer terrified him more than anything she’d ever said. “You don’t understand. I built my entire world on control.”

“Then let me see what happens when you lose it.”

He stared at her — and in that look was every unspoken confession, every secret wound. The air between them pulsed with possibility.

And then, just as the moment tipped toward something irreversible, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen — and his expression changed. Cold. Sharp. Calculating.

“What is it?” she asked.

He stood abruptly, slipping the phone into his pocket. “We’re done here.”

“Zane—”

“Go home, Aurora. Now.”

“What happened?”

He didn’t answer. He just turned and walked out into the night, leaving her sitting in the golden light of the restaurant, heart pounding, every instinct screaming that something had just shifted. Something big. Something dangerous.

---

Outside, the rain began again — soft at first, then relentless. Aurora stepped into the street, her pulse echoing in her ears.

Somewhere behind that calm mask, Zane was hiding a truth.

And she was about to find out what it was.

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