CHAPTER 31
ZANE
The air thickens , charged with something electric, as Mia approaches. My pulse, already erratic, jolts in my chest, each beat hammering against my ribs. There's something about the way she moves—slow, deliberate—that coils heat in my gut, an instinctual warning that something is coming, something I won’t be able to stop.
I react before I can think, stepping toward her, tension rolling off me in waves.
"Mia." My voice is low, edged with urgency. "What happened?"
She stops, those wide, striking eyes locking onto mine, and for a moment, my breath stutters. Then, with a dramatic sigh, her expression falters, lips parting just enough to pull me in.
"Zane…" She hesitates, looking down, her shoulders curling inward like she’s bracing herself. "It all went wrong."
Something sharp and cold knifes through my chest. My body moves before my mind catches up—I close the distance, fingers wrapping around her wrist, my grip firm, possessive.
"No." My voice is dark, final. "I won’t let anyone touch you."
But then I see it—the flicker in her eyes, that mischievous glint, too wicked for someone in distress.
And then she smiles.
My stomach turns, my jaw clenching as understanding dawns.
"Are you kidding me?" Relief crashes into me, too hard, too fast, for me to be angry.
Mia laughs, the sound soft and teasing, as her fingers skim up my chest, slow, deliberate, her touch featherlight but burning. She plays with the collar of my shirt, her lips hovering just inches from my skin.
"I just wanted to see your reaction."
I close my eyes, exhaling through my nose, trying—failing—to regain control. But the second I look at her again, I’m already gone.
"You drive me fucking crazy." My voice comes out hoarse, raw with everything I feel.
Her pupils dilate, and she tilts her head, lips parting as if she’s about to say something—but I don’t give her the chance. I pull her flush against me, my grip firm, my body pressing into hers, letting her feel exactly what she does to me.
Our noses brush, our breaths mingling, hot and ragged. My desire for her has always been an untamed, vicious thing, clawing at me from the inside out, impossible to control.
"I love you," I murmur against her lips. "As easy as breathing."
She exhales, a quiet, shaky sound that snaps what little restraint I had left.
I crash my mouth against hers, devouring her, the kiss deep and slow at first, but quickly unraveling into something fierce, hungry. My fingers slide into her hair, tightening, tilting her head back so I can take more, taste more. She clings to me, her hands fisting in my shirt, her body pressing against mine like she’s desperate to crawl under my skin.
I walk her back until she hits the wall, caging her in with my body, my hands roaming lower, exploring every curve that belongs to me.
"You’re trouble," I rasp against her mouth, biting down on her lower lip before trailing my lips along her jaw, her throat. I feel the way her breath hitches, the way her body shudders against mine, and it only fuels the fire already consuming me.
"Do you really think you can scare me like that and get away with it?"
Mia hums, her nails scraping against the back of my neck, her fingers threading into my hair as she tilts her head, giving me more access.
"You love me," she whispers, smug, breathless. "That means I can do whatever I want."
A low, dark chuckle rumbles through me. She’s right. And yet—
I grip her hips, my thumbs pressing into her skin as I dip my head lower, my lips grazing the sensitive spot on her neck.
"I’m still going to fuck you hard for this," I murmur, my voice rough, promising.
Mia gasps, her body arching against mine as I press her harder into the wall.
"Hmm, Mr. Broken Leg, you got game."
I smirk against her skin, biting down just enough to make her whimper.
"You have no idea, wife."
She doesn’t hesitate—her arms coil around my neck, her body pressing into mine like she’s meant to be there.
My leg stings with pain, but I don’t care. I can’t. Not when her warmth seeps into me, not when I can feel the quick, desperate rise and fall of her chest.
I don’t give her time to think. With a low growl, I push her backward, guiding her into the nearest empty room.
I sink back onto the nearest surface. She gasps as I pull her onto my lap, her thighs straddling mine, her breath catching when our bodies align. My hands roam up her sides, gripping her waist, holding her in place as I press her closer—so close there’s no space left between us, only heat, only need.
Her fingers slide into my hair, her nails scraping lightly against my scalp, sending a shiver down my spine.
I tilt my head up, my lips brushing against her throat, reveling in the way she trembles, in the way she clings to me like she never wants to let got
The door slams shut behind us, but I don’t even register the sound—I’m too consumed by her, by the way she looks at me, eyes dark with want, daring me to take her apart.
I have her.
And fuck, I savor every second, every inch of her, like a starving man finally tasting salvation.
The cold wind sweeps through the cemetery, biting against my skin as I walk between the weathered headstones. The flowers in my hands feel heavier than they should. It’s been years since I’ve been here.
I stop before my father’s grave. His name is etched into the stone, but time has begun to soften the edges of the letters. I swallow hard, letting out a sigh before kneeling down and placing the flowers in the dirt.
“Hi, Dad.” My voice comes out quieter than I intended. “I should have come sooner.”
The breeze passes through me like a silent answer. My chest tightens. I run a hand over my face, taking a deep breath.
“I got married,” I blurt out, a dry laugh escaping my lips. “Drunk, in a chapel in Los Angeles. I know what you’d say—that I’m an idiot. And you’d be right.”
I stare at the flowers, my fingers tightening on the fabric of my pants. “But, Dad… she’s amazing. You’d hate to admit it, but I know you’d like her. She talks too much, gets into trouble, and isn’t afraid of anyone.” My throat tightens. “I should have stayed away, should have protected myself, but I couldn’t.”
The silence around me is overwhelming, only the wind whistling through the trees. Still, I force myself to continue.
“Loving her is as easy as breathing. Just like you said it would be when I found the one. She’s my person.”
My eyes burn, but I wipe at them before the tears can fall. I smile.
"I want to travel the world with her. Take Mia to see things she's never seen, give her everything she’s been denied. She deserves more than this life I have, more than I can give." I close my eyes, the weight of the confession pressing down on my chest. "But I can’t let her go."
My breathing is ragged now. I clench my jaw, trying to hold back the wave of emotions threatening to drown me.
"I wish you were here to tell me what to do," I admit, my voice almost breaking. "But I think, deep down, I already know."
I run a hand through my hair, laughing softly, humorlessly. “I’ll love you until the end, Dad. Because you were right—we’re not alone. I’ll make sure to remember that now, okay?”
“You really are the softest among us.”
The voice comes from behind me, and even after all these years, I’d recognize that sarcastic tone anywhere.
My chest tightens before I even turn around. When I do, Taylor is already sitting next to me, her eyes fixed on our father’s headstone.
“Hi, Dad,” she murmurs.
The wind blows her curly hair, and for a moment, she looks so tired that my heart aches.
“It’s been a while,” I say, not knowing where to start.
She lets out a dry laugh. “Years.”
Silence.
I haven’t seen her since the last time I heard her hate-filled voice. Since the last time she told me she never wanted to see me again.
“Why are you leaving me?” Her voice shakes, but her gaze is sharp, burning into me like a blade. “Why do you hate me so much that you want to leave?”
“It’s just college.”
“You wouldn’t be moving to another country if it was just college. Talk to me.”
My chest tightens. The desperation in her eyes is a knot, tightening until it’s hard to breathe.
“I’m your family.” Taylor takes a step forward, her breath shaky. “Don’t leave me. Please. Not like this. I’m your little sister. We’re a team. You and me against her.”
I close my eyes for a second. If I stayed… If I stayed, I would sink with her.
“I can’t be here.” My voice is barely a whisper.
The silence lasts less than a second. Enough for the storm to shift.
Taylor steps back, her gaze sharp now, like shattered glass.
“Okay,” she says, her voice firm but empty. “Go.”
She tilts her head, her eyes cold, like she never felt anything for me.
“I hate you. I don’t want to see you again.”
The final cut. The perfect hit.
I just lower my head and walk away.
I was so fucked up at the time. I just wanted out. What my mom had done was so fresh, and I had just gotten into a fight with one of her boyfriends. All I wanted was to escape. Get away.
“You never came to see me.” My voice is rougher than I expected.
Taylor crosses her arms, looking away. “I didn’t mean to.”
That’s a lie. I know my sister too well for that.
“You were hurt.”
She lets out a heavy sigh, as if the weight of the years falls on her all at once. “I was fucked, Zane. And you weren’t here.”
The guilt hits me hard. I knew I had hurt Taylor when I left, but I hadn’t realized how much.
“I know,” I admit, my voice low. “I should have stayed.”
She shakes her head, her fingers digging into her arms. “No. You did what you thought was right. And I did what I thought was right.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “But what I thought was right… didn’t get me anywhere.”
Something about the way she says it unsettles me. There’s more to it. But Taylor has never been one to open up easily.
“I wanted to hate you forever,” she continues, staring at the ground. “But I don’t think I can anymore.”
My chest tightens even more. The last time we spoke, she told me she hated me. And for years, I thought her indifference had destroyed whatever was left between us.
Now, sitting next to me in the cemetery, she looks like a shadow of that girl.
"When I saw you in that cell," Taylor says, voice steady but tight, "all I could think about was how much time I wasted shutting you out. How my own damn pride kept me from seeing you. And that for a second—just a second—I could’ve lost you to this."
"Tay—"
"Shut up and let me finish."
Her eyes are burning, her jaw clenched like she's fighting herself, like she hates how much she cares but can’t help it.
"You're my brother, Zane. No matter what. And I will always have your back. I don't want to lose you again."
The words hit deeper than I expect. I smile, but it’s a little unsteady, and when I reach up to wipe the tear slipping down her cheek, my fingers hesitate. Taylor doesn’t cry.
Taylor barely acknowledges feelings, let alone lets them spill over.
Until she does—and when she does, it's usually to cause havoc. But this time is different. This time, she's letting herself be vulnerable.
"You won’t, sis," I say softly. "You’re way too loud to be ignored."
She snorts, but it’s weak, almost fragile.
"I love you," I add, meaning it more than I ever have before.
She takes a shaky breath, already pulling herself together, but I’m not done.
"And, Tay?"
She blinks at me.
"I never saw you as her."
Her head jerks slightly. "What?"
"You’re not our mother, Taylor. You never were. You never will be. You’re so much better than she ever could’ve been. And I need you to remember that, okay?"
She stares at me, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. Then, just as quick, she shoves it down, like she always does, exhaling through her nose and rolling her shoulders back.
"Okay," she murmurs.
It’s not much. But it’s enough.
I sigh and run a hand over my face. “You don’t have to forgive me.”
She shrugs. “I guess I already did without realizing it.”
The silence between us is different now. Still heavy, but not suffocating.
I look at her, and for the first time in years, I see my sister.
“I missed you.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
Taylor stares at me for a second, then punches my shoulder lightly, rolling her eyes. “Don’t get sentimental, Zane.” But there’s something softer in her gaze.
We sit there, side by side, with nothing more to say. And for the first time since I left, I feel like—somehow—we’ve finally come home.
“Oh, cool. Family reunion, and no one invited me?”
Kyle’s voice cuts through the quiet, and when I turn, he’s standing there, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable—but his eyes, as always, too intent.
Taylor sighs, crossing her arms. “You didn’t miss much. Just Zane getting pussy-whipped by Mia while he talks to Daddy.”
I clench my jaw, more at the name that leaves her lips than the provocation. Mia.
I don’t need to look at Kyle to know he’s tensed.
And sure enough, when I face him, his gaze has gone colder, calculating. I know what he’s thinking. Mia was a Riviera. The family that destroyed ours. And now that everyone knows about her and Seth, things are… complicated.
But what he doesn’t realize is that Mia isn’t like Nico. And neither Mia nor Nico destroyed our family.
Our mother did. When she gave up on herself.
And I’m tired of waiting for someone to ask me to choose a side.
“My loyalty is to Mia,” I say firmly, looking Kyle dead in the eye. “If you have a problem with that, say it now.”
"Relax, I have nothing to say about your wife."
"Not even after knowing the truth?"
Kyle looks at me, and I’m surprised to see a hint of emotion on his face. Abby is working wonders with this boy.
"She’s yours. And you’re my brother. This isn’t about Evermore. I respect your decision."
"She doesn’t deserve the disdain. She’s nothing like Nico. She just suffered at his hands. And I would never tolerate that from either of you." I look between him and Taylor, and she just holds up her hands.
"Don’t make me the moral compass here. Your life, your decisions," she says.
The silence between us seems to last forever. Kyle holds my gaze, and for the first time, I really don’t know what to expect from him.
Then, to my surprise, he just lets out a heavy sigh.
"I understand."
I blink, not sure if I heard correctly. "You understand?"
He shrugs, his expression hardening. "If anyone dared to talk shit about Abby in front of me..." He fixes his gaze on mine, his voice low and menacing. "That would be their fucking last words."
The tension dissolves, even though nothing more needs to be said.
Taylor rolls her eyes. "You guys are such romantic idiots, my God."
"Said the girl who spent years obsessing over her best friend."
"Get Harvs’ name out of your mouth, bitch."
"Brat."
"Idiot."
Kyle gives her a wry look. "And you, sentimental as always."
She curses him under her breath, and Kyle just smirks, not giving a damn.
It’s a normal day at the Hill family.
I shake my head, letting out a low laugh.
For a moment, everything seems the same as before, as if we hadn’t spent years apart.
Kyle looks at me sideways, and without needing words, I know.
He accepts me. He accepts Mia.
And somehow, that means more than I was ready to admit.
Then I sigh.
"There’s something else about Mia that I need to confess."
"Okay," Taylor says, and Kyle just stares at me, waiting.
"Our mother didn’t die of an overdose," I confess because they deserve the truth. "Mia killed her."
The silence hangs heavy for a moment after my confession.
Taylor blinks a few times, as if her brain has short-circuited. Then, suddenly, she explodes.
"What the fuck?!" She takes a step back, looking at me like I just said I sold my soul to the devil.
Kyle, on the other hand, doesn’t say anything. His eyes widen slightly, his expression still closed, but there’s that rigidity in his posture—the one that gives away he’s digesting the information.
I sigh, running a hand over my face before explaining. I tell them about the abuse. I tell them about what our mother did and what broke me to the point where the only way out was to leave that town.
I tell them how Mia killed her. And finally, I tell them about Paulina—how I discovered that our mother had been literally negotiating me for drugs because I was the "weakest" of the three.
How Mia was the only one who did something.
Taylor stands still, shoulders tense, fists clenched. Then, out of nowhere, she lets out a dry laugh.
"That damned cunt." Her voice is low but full of venom. "She deserved to die."
Sometimes, it’s bizarre how my sister moves on so quickly.
Kyle finally takes a deep breath. "Are you okay?"
I hesitate, but nod. "Yeah."
He stares at me a second longer, trying to see past the automatic response, but doesn’t press.
"Are we okay?" I ask, making it clear this isn’t just about now. It’s about everything.
Kyle nods. And surprisingly, it’s Taylor who answers, pulling us both into a tight, suffocating hug.
"We are fine."
She holds me like I’d evaporate if she let go, like she’s trying to absorb years of distance into a few seconds.
Kyle mumbles something about us getting too sentimental, but he doesn’t pull away. I just close my eyes and let it happen.
When she finally lets go, Taylor crosses her arms, tilting her head with a speculative look.
"I want to meet Mia."
I arch an eyebrow. "Really?"
She shrugs. "She seems cool."
Kyle lets out a muffled laugh. "Cool is an interesting word to describe her."
"I’m excited," she claps her hands, and I laugh.
I shouldn’t be surprised at how easily they accepted my mother’s death after hearing the truth.
But somehow, I still am.
A good surprise.