Zane Book Novels & Stories

"Zaddy," That wasn't the name. Where that one had come from, he had no idea. But it was like she just emptied a tank of gasoline on his fire, and he wanted to explode. He abruptly shot up, lifting her with him in the process, like she was a feather. He plunged her back into the soft leather seat converted to bed, panting hot breaths on her face, piercing into her soul, "What did you just call me?" Taking aback, Shola clasped her palm over her mouth. Zaddy was a term she'd always used to refer to a Zayn Malik looking kind of sugar daddy; her kind of man. A man like Solano Vicenze.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.” Without another word, Zane completely dismissed Andrew’s existence. He turned on his heel and began to slowly walk around our ruined living room, his sharp, golden eyes scrutinizing every single surface. He dragged a gloved finger over a charred bookshelf, picked up a broken piece of pottery, and overturned a burnt cushion, searching for clues with an irritatingly calm demeanor.

I rubbed my temples. Get another book. Distract yourself. I stood and walked further down into the library. I needed another book to make me focus. That was when I saw her. Zana sat alone in a corner of the library. She was reading a book. She looked completely absorbed. Her red hair had fallen forward, partly hiding her face. My first thought was stupid and automatic. There’s no way she can actually read. The idea came from years of conditioning. My father told me that rogues were savages. I was told that they were uneducated and barely civilized. That was what we were taught.

Terrence took the books from Zane before he could stop him, annoyed as he looked at the titles. “All of these are relationship books,” Terrence said slowly, raising his eyebrow as he looked at the big one about how to romance a woman. “Yeah? So what?” Zane snapped and took the books back angrily. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” Blake said, sounding a bit hurt. “I’m not,” Zane admitted. “Then why the books?” Marcus asked curiously. Zane wasn’t going to let his brothers make him feel foolish for buying self-help books. At least he knew he needed help. Terrence had been lucky to get a wife like Christine, and Blake and Marcus were too busy with work to care about anything except hookin

My Uncle Built Me The training grounds are empty before dawn. Just cold metal bleachers and the weight in my chest that will not lift. Uncle Nathan designed me. Not like family. Like a blueprint. Every rejection after the crash. Every door that closed. The path that led me to Diane. To Iron Valley. To wolves. None of it was accident. All of it was engineered to activate my markers. I should be angry. I was angry. But somewhere between the compound and this morning, the rage burned itself out. What sits in my chest now is colder. Harder. The clarity that comes from realizing you were never unlucky.

“I sent eyes. Zara sent theatre. Learn the difference if you want to live next to him.” Zane’s hand found my wrist. Not tight. A count. One. Two. “You do not collect anything on this asphalt,” Zane said. “You want a table, you send a time that is not my fight night. You put a hand near that hospital again and I open every file I have left, including the ones with your stamp.” Harlan almost looked pleased. “There. The boy still has a spine. I was worried the fat girl had sat on it.” My palm itched. Zane’s fingers squeezed once. Not now.

We weren’t alone. That night, in the library, Zane found me tracing runes in an old book. His shadow fell across the pages, heavy, steady. “You’re too reckless,” he murmured. “You hold everything inside until you break.” I didn’t look up. “And you break things until nothing’s left.” The silence hummed. His hand covered mine on the book, warm, steady. No kiss, no heat of bodies—just his palm over mine, a promise heavier than any vow.

Then repeat. "Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in." I froze, the plate in hand hovering over the table. Zane stood in the doorway, his bulky arms crossed, a smirk on his face that I always wished I could wipe off. He was a huge one, easily 6'4, with the kind of muscles that came from months and years of dedicated training. Dark hair, darker eyes "Zane," I acknowledged quietly, setting down the plate. "Is that all you have to say?" He pushed off the doorframe and confidently sauntered into the room. "After you humiliated Eleora today?"

Aron thanked her and inquired about Zea's whereabouts. "Zea left earlier today after receiving an urgent phone call," Jen informed him. "She didn't say goodbye or provide any details about where she was headed." Concern washed over Aron, but he decided to wait until morning to reach out to Zea's friends and family for assistance. In the meantime, he searched for any clues within their home, hoping to piece together her location. It was then that he noticed Zea's laptop still on the table, an open document titled "The Experiment" catching his eye.

But they just kept it to themselves and did not dare to say it out loud. After Anne pointed that out, other people started to discuss it. Luna was so angry that she did not know what to say. But one colleague doubted it. "Mr. Zane took over the Zane Corporation before he turned eighteen years old. He made a major reshuffle to the Zane Corporation's personnel in the shortest time. He also brought the Zane Corporation back to the top of the world again. Do you think he can be manipulated so easily?" Anne squeezed next to the male colleague who questioned her. She then stretched her arm and poked his head as she said, "Of course, I believe in Mr. Zane's working abilities. But he's a man after a