Page 67 of Ruin
Like he didn't murder my parents and spend years orchestrating my psychological destruction.
I stand up slowly, gun heavy in my hand, and move toward the door.
This is it.
The confrontation I've been building toward for over a year without knowing it.
The woman who opens this door won't be the same one who closes it.
One way or another, everything changes tonight.
I reach for the deadbolt with my free hand, the gun aimed at where his chest will be when the door opens.
He's been waiting over a year to have me completely.
To own me fully.
He has no idea I've been waiting years to kill the man responsible for taking my parents.
10
Cassius
The barrel of her father's .38 Special is three inches from my chest when she opens the door.
My hands go up instinctively, slowly, palms visible.
In the nine years I've been running this empire, I've had guns pointed at me countless times.
Usually by men desperate enough to think they could take what's mine, or cops stupid enough to think they could arrest me.
This is different. This is her.
And she looks like she knows exactly how to use that weapon.
"Hello, Cassius." Her voice is eerily calm, steady as the gun in her hands. Each word precisely enunciated, like she's been practicing this moment. "Come in."
She's still wearing my collar.
The diamonds catch the hallway light, beautiful and obscene against the pale column of her throat.
The contrast is jarring—precious gems and deadly steel, my mark of ownership and her father's instrument of justice.
Below the collar, she's dressed in simple black—leggings and an oversized sweater.
She looks younger like this, vulnerable, except for the gun that says otherwise.
Her stance is professional.
Feet planted, grip proper, finger resting on the trigger guard but ready to move.
Someone taught her, or she taught herself.
Either way, she's not playing games.
"Selene—"
"Come. In." Each word is precisely enunciated, like she's giving orders to a subordinate. "Close the door behind you. Lock it."
