A Knock at the Door

The moment Vanessa stepped into the hotel suite, the door slammed shut behind her. A sharp gasp left her lips, but before she could even turn, cold steel pressed against the delicate curve of her throat.

Zane.

Her back hit the wall, her pulse hammering as his body caged hers in the dim light. His grip was unyielding, one hand wrenching her wrists above her head, the other keeping the blade steady against her skin. But even through the quiet violence of his touch, all she could focus on was him.

His scent—clean, crisp, with the faintest hint of smoke—wrapped around her like a shackle. The glow from the city skyline seeped into the room, casting a halo of light around his sharp, impossibly beautiful features. His jet-black hair fell over his forehead, just brushing the long scar that slashed across his right eye. He was breathtaking in the most dangerous way—tall, broad, his toned muscles stretching beneath his dark shirt, his presence a storm of barely restrained power.

And she was utterly, irrevocably in love with him.

Her breath caught as his eyes—deep, dark, unreadable—raked over her face. There was something possessive in his gaze, something that made her skin burn and her heart ache all at once. She knew Zane wasn’t a man who allowed himself to want, not without a fight. And yet, here he was, pinning her to the wall, staking his claim in the way only he could.

"I hope you're not carrying any weapons," he murmured, his voice low, rough—meant to unnerve.

Vanessa swallowed, the heat of his body sinking into her own. "Find out."

His smirk was slow, wicked. God, she loved that smirk.

Zane leaned in, his breath warm against her jawline, lips barely grazing her skin. The smallest touch from him sent a violent shiver down her spine. He could unmake her with nothing but a whisper, and he knew it.

"You better not regret it," he said, his voice dropping lower.

She never would.

The knife in his hand moved, swift and precise, tearing through her top like it was nothing. The fabric fell away, leaving her in nothing but a thin bra, her skin flushed under his devouring gaze. He didn’t stop there. With deliberate slowness, he dragged the blade down her stomach, her hips, her thighs, shredding away her skirt until she was left in nothing but lace.

Vanessa’s breath stuttered. Not from fear. Never from fear.

Her entire body trembled under the weight of his gaze. The way he looked at her—like she was something he’d been starving for—sent heat curling low in her stomach.

Zane released her wrists, his now-free hand tracing the path his knife had followed. The contrast of rough fingertips against her burning skin made her dizzy. He lifted the blade again, dragging it up, up, until it reached the strap of her bra. With one flick, the fabric snapped, falling away completely.

Her knees nearly gave out.

As their lips met with a fierce hunger, Vanessa felt herself drowning in him, in the way his body pressed against hers, in the way his hands roamed as if trying to memorize every inch of her. It was never enough. No matter how many times they came together like this—desperate, reckless, consumed—she still craved him like an addiction she could never shake.

Zane’s lips trailed from her mouth to the delicate curve of her neck, his touch leaving fire in its wake. A soft gasp escaped her parted lips as he ventured lower, lavishing attention on her collarbone, the swell of her breasts. She arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair, silently begging him never to stop.

But then—his hands stilled.

She felt it before she saw it.

His gaze burned into the ink on her ribs. The name she had been forced to carry. Lorenzo Kim.

She barely had a moment to react before the cold edge of his knife grazed over the letters, the sting sharp, fleeting—yet enough to make her tense beneath him.

"Ow!" she gasped, her body jerking in surprise.

As if snapped from a trance, Zane recoiled, his hand trembling as he pulled away. His dark eyes, usually filled with confidence, now flickered with regret. He stared at the thin line of crimson beading against her skin.

“I—I’m sorry,” he stammered, voice hoarse, raw. “I didn’t mean… I lost control for a moment.”

But Vanessa already knew. She had seen the jealousy burning in his gaze before his knife had even touched her. She understood, because she felt the same torment—every second she spent as another man’s wife, every time she was reminded that the world didn’t see her as his.

“Vanessa, you know I—” He exhaled sharply, shutting his eyes for a brief moment before lifting his face to hers. His fingers brushed against her cheek, his touch achingly tender despite the tension between them. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t accept the fact that you have his last name.” His voice dropped lower, strained with emotion. “I hate how he gets to f*ck what’s mine.”

His words sent a sharp pang through her heart. Not because of what he said—but because of how much he was hurting.

“Boss!” she pushed his hands away, her breath unsteady. Her chest tightened at the wounded look in his eyes, but she held his gaze, forcing him to see the truth in hers. “You know I married him for your sake.” Her voice trembled, her lips quivering as she turned away, trying to blink back the sting of tears. “Why do you regret it now?”

“I know,” he admitted, his tone softer now, weighted with something heavier than jealousy. “But now that I think about it… I realize I did wrong.” He reached for her again, his fingers cradling her face with a gentleness that threatened to break her. “I shouldn’t have forced you into this. I feel like I’ve been misusing your love for my own advantage.”

Vanessa’s heart clenched. If only he knew—if only he understood that she would have done anything for him, no matter how much it cost her.

“It’s too late,” she whispered, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “There’s no room for regrets anymore.” She swallowed, her throat tight. “After coming this far, it would be a waste to get emotional over small things. Let me keep my promise to you. You know I—”

“I love you,” Zane interrupted, his voice as steady as the hand that wiped the tear from her lips. He looked at her with a certainty that made her breath hitch, a love so deep it made her forget the rest of the world.

Vanessa let out a shaky laugh, a soft, broken sound. “No. I love you.”

The words barely left her lips before his mouth was on hers again—urgent, longing, filled with all the things neither of them could say. His hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the lingering dampness on her skin. She melted into him, her arms winding around his neck as she kissed him back just as fiercely, just as desperately.

Because no matter what name she wore, no matter what sacrifices they had made—her heart had always, and would always, belong to him.

It seemed inevitable—the way they fell into each other, lost in the hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. Their kisses turned wild, desperate, as if the mere act of breathing without each other was unbearable. Vanessa clung to him, her fingers threading through his hair, her body arching into his touch as his hands greedily stripped away the last barriers between them.

The moment she was bare before him, Zane stilled, his dark eyes drinking her in, hunger and reverence warring within them. A slow, shuddering breath left him as if he had been starved for this sight—for her.

Then, with effortless strength, he lifted her into his arms. A startled gasp left her lips before it was swallowed by his mouth, their kiss never breaking as she wrapped her legs around his waist, molding herself against him.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he groaned, his voice hoarse with longing.

She barely had time to respond before he laid her down, his body pressing against hers, his warmth, his scent, him—all of him—surrounding her, consuming her.

Vanessa cupped his face, running her fingers along the sharp edges of his jawline, over the faint stubble that had begun to shadow his clean-shaven skin. “Then don’t waste another second,” she whispered, her eyes locking onto his, dark and full of the love she could never put into words.

Zane’s breath hitched, and in the next moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

His warm tongue traced a slow path along her soaked folds, his grip firm on her trembling thighs. His voice hummed against her sensitive skin, sending shivers up her spine.

"So, what's the deal this time?" he murmured before flicking his tongue over her swollen bud, making her jolt.

"He's meeting a Chinese mob leader," she gasped, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. His mouth worked her relentlessly, dragging out moans she barely had the strength to stifle.

"For what?" he asked between slow, tormenting strokes of his tongue.

"Drug dealing—ah!" she choked out, hips jerking as his grip tightened, holding her still.

"You sure?" He exhaled against her, the heat of his breath amplifying her need.

"That's what I heard—" her voice broke into a cry as he flicked his tongue faster, coaxing her towards the edge. "F*ck! I'm—I'm coming!" Her body arched, legs trembling as she came undone.

Zane groaned, licking up her release before lifting his head, his lips glistening. He smirked, dragging his thumb along her parted lips before pressing a brief, teasing kiss there.

"Damn, you taste so sweet."

Vanessa barely had time to catch her breath before he leaned back, his gaze dark with hunger. He gripped his length, pumping it slowly.

"Now he's selling drugs for money?" he scoffed.

She swallowed hard, watching as he lined himself up against her entrance.

"It's not just about the money," she whispered, voice trembling as he thrust into her in one smooth stroke.

Her walls clenched around him, drawing out a deep groan from his throat. His hands slid up her body, cupping her breasts as he began moving, each thrust dragging a moan from her lips.

"He—" she gasped, trying to focus, but Zane was relentless, stretching her, claiming her. "He wants to align with the Chinese mafia," she panted, nails digging into his shoulders.

"For power," she added between moans.

Zane chuckled darkly, increasing his pace.

"Thinks he can rule all of Asia, huh?" His fingers found her clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles. "Such a greedy bastard."

Vanessa cried out, legs wrapping tighter around him as pleasure coiled in her belly once more.

"Aah—Zane!"

He flipped her effortlessly, pinning her beneath him, his face inches from hers as his movements grew punishingly fast, each thrust pushing her closer to the brink, dragging her into oblivion.

"You’re mine…" Zane growled, his voice thick with possession, his thrusts growing brutal, relentless. Vanessa moaned, her fingers digging into his back, her body welcoming every claiming thrust.

As if she could ever belong to anyone else.

She loved when he reminded her. Not that she needed reminding—her heart, her soul, her entire being had long since belonged to him. But hearing it, feeling it in the way he took her, in the way he held her, sent her spiraling closer to the edge.

"Zane—" she gasped, her body tightening around him, her vision blurring as pleasure consumed her.

The way he groaned in response, the way his grip on her hips turned bruising, only made the moment more intoxicating. He was right here, deep inside her, buried in the only place he had ever truly belonged.

She shattered around him, her cries filling the air as waves of ecstasy crashed over her. And Zane—he didn’t let go. His arms locked around her, his body pressing hers deeper into the mattress, his own pleasure chasing hers.

She was still his.

The thought made something warm unfurl in her chest.

Then—BANG! BANG! BANG!

A loud, insistent pounding on the door cut through the haze of pleasure.

Vanessa groaned, frustrated, her body still trembling from her release. Clinging to Zane, she pulled him closer, wrapping her legs around him to keep him exactly where he belonged.

“Don’t stop,” she whined, breathless, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

Zane chuckled, his breath still uneven as he dipped his head and bit down on her neck, just hard enough to make her gasp.

“Greedy girl,” he murmured against her skin. “What am I going to do with you?”

Another knock—louder this time.

"Ma’am! Sir! Open the door! It’s urgent!"

Zane frowned, recognizing the voice. "José, your bodyguard?"

Vanessa’s breath hitched. "What is he doing here?"

"You sure Lorenzo’s out of town?" Zane muttered.

"Yes," she whispered, panic creeping into her tone.

"Here." He tossed her his shirt while pulling on his own pants.

The pounding grew more insistent.

Zane opened the door—

Before Vanessa could know what was happening, she saw him dropping lifeless to the floor.