Zane
The door clicked shut, soft and final, but the sound rattled through me louder than a gunshot.
She was gone.
My chest ached in a way that had nothing to do with pride and everything to do with her. I could face hostile takeovers, rivals trying to gut me, boardrooms stacked with sharks and vultures, but this—watching Gina walk out—this was unbearable.
“Zane,” my father said quietly, using the name that felt like a chain around my throat. “If you don’t go after her, she’ll believe the worst of you.”
I raked a hand through my hair, pacing. “She already does.”
“Then fix it,” he snapped, his voice sharp, like it used to be when I was a boy and tried to run from my mistakes. “You’ve hidden for too long. Hiding will cost you everything.”
I turned on him, frustration boiling over. “And
