She Was Never Yours.

KANE'S POV

I saw the tremble in her hands first. Aria, always poised, always wearing sarcasm like shield—cracked. And not just cracked, she shattered in front of me. Sibil was still on the floor, playing victim, choking on her crocodile tears. Aria stood like a statue carved in pain. Her eyes wide, glassy, lips parted but mute. Zane’s voice had turned knives.

Where was the fire now?

Where was the woman who barked at me like she had something to prove?

Where was that stubborn chin, that carefully veiled bite behind every word?

Gone. Gone the moment she looked into Zane’s eyes and remembered who broke her. That bastard.

My feet moved before my thoughts caught up. I wasn't just going to stand here, sipping bourbon while my wife–yes, contract or not–was being humiliated by the very man she once bled for.

I walked toward them slowly. I didn’t need to raise my voice.

"Get away from her.." I said, my voice low and lethal. "Your manners still disgust me to this very day."

He turned to me, slowly, that smug smile faltered before it came back of course.

"Kane Callahan.." he said, dragging out my name like we were sharing drinks. "Didn’t peg you for the protective type. Then again… you always were a little too fond of taking what wasn’t yours."

A twitch of rage, but I buried it.

"I take what people waste and refurbish it" I replied evenly. "But she was never yours to begin with, you don’t know how to keep anything, not a business, not a woman… not even your place in this family."

Zane’s eyes darkened, but his voice remained smooth. "Funny. I could say the same. You paid her, didn’t you?, I know it...she’s not yours either, this is all just a performance."

"Performance?" I stepped closer. "Tell me, how’s it feel watching your greatest mistake walk in stronger than ever, looking better than she ever did with you? Or does it hurt more that it’s me she came back beside?"

Sibil gasped softly behind him. Aria still hadn’t moved.

Zane scoffed. "This is a family event. I’m here because I belong here."

"Belong?" I tilted my head. "Really? Because the last I checked, our father died, and not once...not once did he leave you anything. No shares, no properties, no words in his will. Tell me, Zane… what do you belong to?"

Silence surged around us, you could hear a pin drop. Aria blinked slowly.

Zane’s jaw clenched. "You know damn well that man was manipulated into that will. He was old and fucking confused."

"And yet, not confused enough to know what failure looks like."

"You smug bastard..." he hissed, stepping closer, our noses nearly brushing. "You think this is over? You think this little charade with her puts you ahead?"

I leaned in, my voice sharp as ice. "You came here with your mistress, humiliated the woman you abandoned, and you’re still begging for the company board’s attention. This—" I gestured between Aria and myself "...this was strategic. You’re just desperate."

His lips curled. "She was never yours." He repeated.

"Neither was she yours.." I said calmly, glancing at Aria who finally lifted her gaze. "You lost her the moment you left her bleeding."

Zane flinched, then his eyes flicked to Aria—who was now staring at him, a single tear trailing down her cheek but her face set in stone.

"You haven’t changed" I said, straightening. "Still crue, careless, irrelevant and dumb."

The silence that followed was nuclear. Even the cameras stopped clicking.

Zane opened his mouth, then closed it. Then turned back to Sibil who sniffled dramatically. He reached to touch her arm overly rehearsed, too performative—and guided her away like they were in control.

They weren’t.

Aria didn’t speak, but she took one step toward me.

And for the first time in that whole damned evening, I saw the flame flicker back to life in her eyes.

She muttered a barely audible "Thank you."

I nodded once, silent. Then leaned in, slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. My lips pressed against her forehead. It wasn't affection, not softness, just… control, precision.

A gesture for the watching eyes, the curious lenses, and the buzzing whispers that still lingered.

Then, against her hair, I whispered, "It’s all for the business."

Because it was.

It always is.

She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes...glass pooling beneath her lashes, pain evident in her eyes and she batted her lashes, she didn’t speak, just nodded faintly. That subtle, fragile nod of someone who’d just remembered her role.

I didn’t reach for her hand.

I just led.

And she followed.

••

ZANE'S POV

I couldn’t breathe.

Not because of the cameras or the whispers still echoing in the distance, but because of them. Kane and Aria, walking off like they owned the damn world.

Like he hadn’t just humiliated me in front of the most powerful people in the city. Like she hadn’t just stood there, drenched in fake tears and expensive perfume, letting him play savior.

My fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms.

He kissed her fucking forehead. Brushed her hair like she was some delicate porcelain doll. She looked up at him with those glassy eyes–mine, they were once mine and she nodded like she still knew her place.

But she didn’t.

Aria doesn’t get to rewrite history, she doesn’t get to bleed in my house, scream my name, bury my child, and then smile at my brother like he’s some goddamn redeemer.

I turned sharply immediately we disappeared from view, yanking Sibil's wrist with force "Get away from me" shoving her away. She stumbled, gasping softly but didn't protest. I couldn't give two fucks.

"She really thinks this is over?" I muttered behind gritted teeth, my voice trembling with restrained rage.

She thinks she can walk away from me? Be seen with Kane? Parade around like some Callahan wife, when she barely survived being mine?

No.

She’s mine. She’s always been mine.

And if she wants to play house with my brother fine. Let her wear his ring, sleep in his bed, let her think she’s in control.

Because I will tear it all down.

One by one.

Kane thinks he’s untouchable? That smug bastard with his white suits and cold eyes, he forgets who taught him how to lie. Who showed him how to break someone with a word.

He wants the company, the power...fine.

I’ll strip it from him. Slowly. I’ll rot his image, turn his allies, stain his name till he’s clawing for air in the same hole he threw me in tonight.

And Aria?

She’ll come crawling back.

And when she does, I won’t offer a hand. I won’t offer comfort. I’ll remind her of everything she lost the day she left me. I’ll make her beg, make her weep, the way she once did when she still mattered.