Vanessa Kim

Zane beamed, impressed by how she cleverly diverted Lorenzo’s attention, making him drop his guard, unaware of the weapon that slipped from his hands.

“Boss!” Zane’s breath caught as she flicked her wrist and sent the knife flying toward him. But his hands—damn it, they were bound. He couldn't catch it. Instead, he twisted his body, jerking his legs just enough for the knife to land at his feet with a dull thud.

He clenched his jaw, shifting his weight to maneuver it into position. If he could just bring it between his teeth and after much struggle he did.

But then—

Lorenzo chuckled darkly.

“You’re wasting your time, sweetheart.” His voice was honeyed poison, smooth yet seething. “Do you think he cares for you? You think Zane Kang loves you?”

Vanessa’s grip on the gun tightened, her knuckles turning white.

Lorenzo took a slow step forward, watching her, his voice lowering to something almost tender. “You’re smart, Vanessa. You know how this ends. You’re nothing but a means to an end for him. When you’re no longer useful, what do you think he’ll do? You know the answer. I am the only one who’s ever truly loved you.”

Vanessa exhaled sharply, her gaze unwavering. “Love?” she echoed, her voice a razor’s edge. “You think this is love?”

He stepped closer.

“I would have given you the world.” His eyes glistened with something dangerously close to sincerity. “But you betrayed me.”

She let out a hollow laugh. “I was never yours to betray.”

Lorenzo’s smirk faded. His gaze flickered toward Zane—who was now sawing at the ropes with the knife, his movements painstakingly slow to avoid drawing attention.

Vanessa had to keep him talking.

“Do you want to know the truth?” she said, tilting her head. “I’m not someone who’s loved, Lorenzo. I never was. I never will be. I belong to no one.”

Lorenzo exhaled through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, he smiled again—though this time, it was laced with something cruel.

“So, this is my reward for loving you,” he murmured. “Betrayal.”

“You don’t get to play the victim,” she snapped.

He sighed, as if exhausted. “I suppose my doom is here, then.” His eyes flickered down to the gun in her hands. “But before you do it, would you grant me a last wish?”

Vanessa didn’t respond.

“A kiss,” he whispered. “Before I die.”

Vanessa’s jaw tightened. “You really think that’s going to distract me?”

Lorenzo tilted his head, his voice dipping into something almost intimate. “If you were as certain as you pretend to be,” he murmured, leaning in just enough that she could feel the heat of his breath, “you would’ve pulled the trigger by now.”

Zane gritted his teeth, the dull blade between them clenched in his mouth as he sawed furiously at the ropes binding his wrists. His muscles strained, his breath ragged, but the stubborn knots refused to give. With a frustrated growl, he let the knife slip from his mouth, the blade clattering uselessly to the floor. Every wasted second sent another bolt of panic through him.

“Vanessa,” he gritted out, urgency laced in his voice. “Just pull the damn trigger and get me out of this.”

She hesitated.

Her fingers twitched around the gun, her breath growing unsteady. And Zane saw it—the hesitation, the doubt creeping in. The one thing he hadn’t wanted to see.

And that was all Lorenzo needed.

A fraction of a second. A sliver of weakness.

Then he moved.

He caught her wrist, spun into her space, and crashed his lips against hers. A breath stolen—swift, ruthless, intoxicating. But Vanessa wasn’t a fool. She gasped, startled, and in that heartbeat, Lorenzo struck.

The gun was ripped from her grip.

The world snapped into slow motion.

The metallic click of the trigger being pulled.

The muzzle pressed against her temple.

A whisper, cold and final.

“It was good knowing you, love.”

The shot rang out, sharp and deafening.

Zane froze.

His breath hitched.

His world—shattered.

Vanessa’s body crumpled before him, the impact of her fall echoing louder than the gunshot itself. Blood spread in a cruel halo beneath her, stark against the cold, merciless floor.

Zane couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

His brain refused to accept what his eyes were seeing.

Vanessa.

The woman who had stood by him, fought for him, bled for him.

The woman he had taken for granted, never realizing—until this very second—how much he needed her.

And now she was gone.

Just like that.

His hands trembled, the knife slipping from his grasp, clattering uselessly against the floor.

Lorenzo exhaled, surveying the scene with a quiet satisfaction. He lifted the gun again, this time pointing it at Zane.

“No one betrays me and lives.”

The gun fired.

The bullet grazed past Zane’s ear, its heat searing his skin. But he barely reacted.

Because in that moment, he had nothing left to fight for.

His body hit the edge, and gravity took hold—pulling him down, along with the weight of his guilt, his grief, and the unbearable absence of her.

He fell.

Into the abyss.

After her.