Zara woke to warmth. Solid, steady, breath against the back of her neck. For a fleeting moment, she let herself believe in peace. In the quiet rhythm of Lucien's chest against her spine, the steady drape of his arm around her waist, and the hush of early morning creeping through the penthouse.
But peace was an illusion.
She opened her eyes.
The file was gone.
She slipped out of bed slowly, careful not to wake him. Her legs trembled with every step, a reminder of the night they'd torn each other apart. Her skin still bore the phantom sting of his mouth, his hands, his desperation.
But that wasn't what made her chest ache.
The photograph. The man she trusted. The project that killed her father. It all echoed inside her like a scream underwater.
She scanned the penthouse office first. The drawer where she had hidden the file was empty. No trace. No note. Just dust and the tight chill of betrayal curling under her skin.
Lucien didn't stir until the click of the drawer echoed too loud.
"Looking for something?" His voice was sleep-rough but alert.
Zara turned slowly.
Lucien stood in the doorway, low-slung sweats riding his hips, the bruises she'd left blooming across his collarbone. He looked dangerous even half-dressed.
"The file's gone," she said. No emotion. Just fact.
He watched her for a long beat. Then: "I moved it."
"Why?"
"Because someone inside ValeCorp knows you accessed it."
Zara's blood went cold. "How?"
Lucien stepped closer, slow. "You tripped a surveillance filter when you copied the documents. They're watching the metadata. Tracking anomalies. I got the alert two hours ago."
Her heart dropped. "You knew. You knew and still—"
"Let you sleep? Yes. Because whatever happens next, you needed rest."
She clenched her fists. "You had no right."
"I had every right," Lucien snapped, suddenly towering. "You're in the middle of something that killed better men than you or me."
"That includes my father," she said bitterly.
Lucien's jaw clenched. "I warned him. I begged him not to involve Caleb."
Zara blinked. "You what?"
He turned away, dragging a hand through his hair. "Raine was proud. Obsessed with legacy. He thought Caleb was loyal. He thought Ethan wouldn't dare..."
"But you knew."
Lucien nodded. "I was his shadow investor. The silent partner on Phoenix. I wanted to save him. I didn't know..."
Zara stepped forward. "Didn't know what?"
Lucien faced her fully now. Raw. Stripped. "I didn't know they were planning to pin it all on him. I didn't know Caleb was working both sides."
Zara's breath hitched. "And you didn't stop it."
"I tried," Lucien whispered. "But it was too late."
The silence between them screamed.
Then, softly: "So you were there. The night it collapsed."
Lucien nodded.
Zara stepped close, staring up into his eyes. Her voice was low, wounded. "Did he die thinking you betrayed him?"
Lucien looked away.
She reached up, touching his face. It was trembling beneath her fingers.
"He trusted you," she whispered.
"I know."
Their mouths met again, but this time there was no fury, no domination. Just ache. Regret. A deep and desperate kind of longing.
Lucien kissed her like he owed it to her. Like he didn't deserve her. Like it would be the last time.
His hands slid around her waist, lifting her gently onto the desk. Zara tangled her fingers in his hair, needing him closer, needing to feel anything but the grief clawing inside her.
He moved slow this time, reverent. Mouth to her collarbone. Palm at her back. His touch soothed as much as it ignited.
They sank into each other like drowning souls, both trying to breathe through pain.
When it was over, Lucien didn't let her go.
He held her. His head bowed into her neck. His fingers gripping her tightly.
But reality crept back in, sharp and unwelcome.
Zara pulled away.
"I need to know the rest," she said quietly.
Lucien nodded. "I'll tell you. But we have to move. The file wasn't just monitored. Someone wiped it remotely last night. Which means they know where you are."
Zara's pulse spiked. "Then we're running?"
Lucien smiled grimly. "No. We're luring them in."
Zara blinked. "You want them to come to us?"
"I want to know who else is still playing this game."
Zara looked at him, this man who was both weapon and wound. Who had saved her and destroyed her father in the same breath.
She didn't trust him. Not completely.
But she wanted to.
And that terrified her more than anything.