CHAPTER 8

The steady beep of hospital monitors pulled Maya back to consciousness. Her shoulder throbbed, a dull ache that sharpened when she tried to move. The private room was dim, but she could make out a figure slumped in the chair beside her bed.

Zane's head rested in his hands, his usually perfect suit wrinkled, his dark hair disheveled. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"You look terrible," she managed to croak out.

His head snapped up, relief flooding his features before being replaced by anger. "What were you thinking?" His voice was hoarse. "Standing in front of her like that?"

The memories rushed back – seeing Elara, the gun in Donovan's hand, jumping in front of her before he could take the shot. It had been pure instinct.

"She's your sister," Maya said simply.

Zane's face crumpled, all his usual control vanishing. "I could have lost you both." His hand found hers, gripping it like a lifeline. "When I saw you fall..."

The door opened, cutting him off. A woman stepped in – Elara – followed closely by Alex. Maya noticed how he stayed near her, protective but not smothering.

"The police have Donovan," Alex reported. "And Luca. Isabella's trying to claim she knew nothing about the shooting, but—"

"She knew." Elara's voice was soft but firm. "She helped plan it." She moved closer to Maya's bed, her silver eyes – so like Zane's – filled with tears. "You saved my life."

"Anyone would have—"

"No," Elara cut her off. "They wouldn't. I've spent years watching people choose to look the other way." She glanced at Zane. "She's special, brother."

Zane's thumb traced circles on Maya's hand. "I know."

A knock at the door made them all tense, but it was just Reese, carrying a duffel bag. "Brought you some clothes," she said, then caught sight of everyone's faces. "Should I come back?"

"No," Maya said quickly. "Stay." She turned to Zane. "We need to talk. About everything."

He nodded slowly. "The video at the gala. You really didn't know who I was?"

"I knew you were Zane Moretti," Maya admitted. "Everyone knows that name. But I swear, I had no idea about the takeover, or about my father's company being involved."

"I believe you." His voice was quiet. "I should have listened to your explanation that day instead of walking out."

"You were hurt."

"I was scared." The admission seemed to cost him. "Of feeling this much. Of how easily you got past every wall I'd built."

Elara made a small sound. "That's what Donovan feared most. That you'd find me and have someone to care about. Someone he couldn't control."

"How did you get away?" Maya asked softly.

"Alex," Elara said, glancing at him with a hint of a smile. "He found me three months ago. We've been gathering evidence, waiting for the right moment." She touched Maya's hand. "You weren't supposed to get hurt."

"Speaking of hurt," Reese interrupted, "your father's outside, Maya. Has been for hours."

Maya tensed. "Does he know about Donovan? About all of it?"

Zane nodded. "Everything came out after the shooting. The evidence Alex gathered, Donovan's manipulation of both our families' companies." His jaw tightened. "He won't hurt anyone else."

"I should talk to him," Maya said, trying to sit up.

"Tomorrow," Zane said firmly, easing her back down. "You need rest."

"Will you stay?" The words slipped out before she could stop them.

His response was to kick off his shoes and carefully settle onto the bed beside her, mindful of her injury. "Try to make me leave."

Reese made a gagging sound. "And that's our cue. Come on, lovebirds need privacy." She ushered Alex and Elara out, throwing Maya a wink before closing the door.

In the quiet that followed, Maya turned to study Zane's face. "What happens now?"

"Now?" His lips brushed her forehead. "Now we heal. All of us." He pulled back to meet her eyes. "I love you, Maya. I think I have since that first night."

Her heart soared even as tears pricked her eyes. "Even with all the drama I brought into your life?"

"Especially because of it." He smiled – a real, warm smile that transformed his entire face. "You fought for me. For my sister. For us. How could I not love you?"

Maya lifted her good arm, touching his face. "I love you too."

His kiss was gentle, nothing like their first passionate encounter. This was a promise, soft and sure, of all the tomorrows stretching out before them.

When they finally parted, Maya rested her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Outside, dawn was breaking over Vancouver, painting the sky in shades of hope.

They had survived the storm. Together.

And that was just the beginning.