Page 30 of The Enforcer (Damn! #2)

THREE HOURS later the elevator doors slid open at the end of the hall outside Zane’s penthouse and Lily stepped out. She’d had no choice but to return.

She stared at the hallway in front of her like it hid a trap. Her heart wasn’t racing. Her body wasn’t shaking. But everything inside her felt suspended, like her next step would either rebuild what was broken with Zane or decimate all of it in one fell swoop.

She walked through a gauntlet of armed men posted every few feet, hands resting lightly on weapons that were very much unsecured.

Their formation was tight, watchful, and unnervingly silent.

They looked ready for war, not in a loud, chaotic way, but with the deadly calm of professionals trained to kill without blinking.

It was the kind of readiness that left no room for misunderstanding.

One wrong move, and this entire floor would light up like a battlefield.

Zane’s penthouse door was already cracked open, security on high alert.

The moment she crossed the threshold, the atmosphere shifted like a pressure drop before a storm.

They didn’t look surprised to see her. The nearest men closed in fast, not with guns raised, but with the kind of deliberate, trained movement that made her breath hitch.

It was instinctive. Coordinated. A human shield. Or a trap.

Her pulse ticked higher, slow but sharp.

She’d been surrounded before, by enemies, by employers who smiled like sharks, but this felt different.

Worse. Because she couldn’t tell if the tension in the room was aimed at her or around her.

Because part of her wanted to believe they were there to protect her.

And part of her knew better than to assume that.

More likely they were there to contain her.

Weapons weren’t pointed at her, but none were holstered either.

They hovered in that tense space between threat and restraint, and Lily felt it in the tightening of her chest, the way her skin prickled with anticipation, every step forward like walking into electrified air, charged with tension.

Earpieces crackled like static-filled heartbeats.

Eyes tracked her every step, calculated, unreadable, waiting for a single signal to shift from stillness to action.

No one said a word.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t raise her hands or ask if they were serious. Her pride wouldn’t let her. Not after being dragged out, stripped down, and questioned like a traitor during that initial confrontation with Zane.

If they were going to treat her like a threat, she would walk through it anyway, eyes open, spine straight, heart breaking. The betrayal didn’t come from the weapons or the formation. It came from the fact that, deep down, part of her had expected it.

She walked forward, tired, unarmed, but alive after what felt like an endless walk outside.

And then she saw him.

Zane stood at the center of the chaos, the calm eye of the storm, but this storm was seconds from breaking.

Black shirt. Bare forearms. Tension rolling off him in waves.

He didn’t shout. Didn’t step forward. Just stared at her like she was a puzzle that didn’t fit, a calculation that refused to balance.

Like he was torn between yanking her into his arms or pinning her to the wall until she gave him the truth.

Torn between craving her and needing to break the silence with something that would burn the doubt out of both of them.

And maybe he didn’t know which one he’d do first.

One beat passed. Then another.

“Out,” he said.

The word cut through everything.

Chairs scraped. Boots shifted. Orders snapped into comms.

Within thirty seconds, the penthouse was empty again.

Except for them.

The silence that followed was thick, thrumming with everything unsaid. Zane didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just stared at her, gaze dragging over every inch like he was trying to confirm she was real, and not the ghost that had haunted every breath since she walked out.

Lily stayed by the door, her clothes wrinkled and damp from walking, but her spine straight. Her pride remained intact, even if barely, though her voice was low, ragged from disuse and something deeper.

“I walked,” she said. “I needed to think.”

Still, Zane said nothing.

But something flickered, just for a second, in the depths of his dark eyes. Not fury. Not betrayal. Relief. A raw, barely-there flash of it before the door slammed shut behind his expression, locking it all away again.

She felt the shift like a blade to the chest.

Because even if his body stayed still, his face unreadable, she saw the internal battle inside him, barely restrained and burning just beneath the surface.

The battle he was fighting not to reach for her, as though the restraint was killing him.

And worse, the heat in his stare didn’t dim, it sharpened, slicing through her composure like a brand pressed to skin, making her chest ache with something hot and unrelenting.

Coalesced. Like she was the only thing he could see.

Lily’s breath caught. Her skin tingled like it remembered his touch, even though he hadn’t moved. She didn’t know what she expected, rage, questions, maybe even cold dismissal. But this? This silent, heavy pull between them? It scorched.

Her voice trembled at the edge of it. “Say something.”

He didn’t.

Just kept looking at her like she was both the wound and the cure.

She took a step toward him.

He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. But she felt the shift in him, his focus narrowing, his entire body tightening like a cord pulled taut. The air between them grew electric, saturated with tension so thick it buzzed against her skin.

Another step. Her throat worked around the knot forming there, but her feet kept moving, slow and steady. She wasn’t trying to seduce him. Wasn’t trying to manipulate. She was just… done pretending there was nothing between them.

“I didn’t come back for protection,” she whispered. “I came back for you.”

Zane flinched like the words struck something vital. His eyes closed for the barest second, lashes fanning against his cheeks. And when they opened again, the control he always wielded with iron precision looked frayed. Barely leashed. Dangerous.

He took one step forward, and that was all it took.

They met in the middle like a match and gasoline.

His mouth crashed to hers, not gentle, not tentative, but desperate, demanding.

Her fingers tangled in his shirt, yanking him closer like her body had been waiting for this exact moment to breathe again.

His hands came to her face, her hair, her belly, everywhere at once, like he couldn’t decide where to touch first. Like he didn’t know if he wanted to worship or devour.

And she let him.

Because the truth was, she needed it too. Needed him.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It was a clash of need and fury, a collision of everything unsaid and buried, breaking free in that single moment.

Their lips met in desperate urgency, each touch tearing down the walls between them, each movement pulling them closer to something neither of them had been prepared for.

It was surrender wrapped in defiance, the kind of kiss that left nothing untouched and everything at stake.

It was two people who didn’t know if they’d find a way forward, but who couldn’t stay away a second longer.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. His breath was ragged. His voice, a rasp.

“Don’t run from me again.”

“I won’t,” she said, eyes locked on his. Her voice was steady now, quiet but certain. “But I didn’t come back to fall apart in your arms.”

Zane’s brow twitched, just the smallest flicker, like her words hit a fault line inside him.

“I came back because I have a plan,” she continued. “I want to use myself as bait. It’s the only way to find out who’s behind this.”

It landed like a shot. Zane went still. Completely, terrifyingly still.

“No,” he said flatly. His gaze settled on her stomach. A significant look. “Absolutely not.”

“Zane—”

“You want to be bait?” His voice sharpened. “They won’t take you. They’ll shoot you.”

“Then you’ll know who they are.”

“You’re not fucking bait. You’ll never be fucking bait. Nor will our child.”

He grabbed her arm, hard. Not hurting, but enough to startle. Enough to make her breath hitch.

And then, just as suddenly, he let go. Like touching her while this furious scared him more than not touching her at all.

His hand hovered for half a second before curling into a fist and dropping to his side.

“You think I’d just stand here if you moved on this without warning me? If I found out after the fact, if you’d walked into a trap, what then, Lily? What the fuck would you expect me to do then?”

His voice was raw steel, ragged with fury barely held in check. His eyes darker than she’d ever seen them.

But she didn’t back down. And Lily felt it, that moment when something inside him cracked, when the wall he kept between panic and fear buckled. Not because she challenged him, but because she matched him. Because she stood there, steady and certain, and he couldn’t look away.

She stared up at him, unflinching. “Do you want to know who hired me or not? Because I won’t rest until I find out. And if you’re not going to help me—”

Zane moved.

Fast.

One second she was holding her own, and the next her feet left the floor. He snatched her up like she weighed nothing, tossed her over his shoulder, and stalked down the hall without a word.

“Zane!” she shouted, fists pounding his back. “Put me down!”

He didn’t. He kicked open the bedroom door and carried her straight inside.

“I threatened once before to chain you to my bed,” he growled, voice low and lethal. “As God is my witness, I’ll do it if you so much as put another toe outside this penthouse without my permission.”

“You arrogant, overbearing bastard—”

He set her on her feet with a jolt, hands clenching at his sides.