Page 34 of Beautiful Ruins
“Yes,” she retorted.“And before you ask, no, I didn’t think that was romantic or noble.I thought it was temporary.I thought he was just… lost.”
Her honesty landed like a weight.
“You’re not lying.”
“No,” she agreed.“I’m not.”
That should’ve simplified things.Yet somehow, it didn’t.
“You understand how this looks, right?Your boyfriend works for my enemy, in an industry I have prohibited in this city.”
She leaned forward, incredulous.“You still think I’m a spy?”
“I think you’re a liability.”
Her mouth curved—not amused.Sharp.“That’s rich, coming from you.”
I tilted my head.“Meaning?”
“You draw the moral line at drugs,” she spat.“But you deal in arms and explosives.”
The words struck a nerve I hadn’t meant to expose.
I went still.“Careful, Izzy.”
“Why?”she challenged.“Because it’s uncomfortable for you?Because you don’t like your own ethics examined?”
“You shouldn’t know what I deal in.”
She shrugged.“You put someone in your home, Raze.They’re bound to learn things you don’t want them to.”
The fact she said my name without hesitation didn’t help.
“You’re very observant.”
“I’m not a spy,” she shot back.“There’s a difference.”
Silence stretched.Tight.Alive.
She broke it first.“You think I’m some kind of operative?Then explain this to me—why would you hand me the keys to the goddamn fucking kingdom if I were?”
That was the question, wasn’t it?
I stood, paced once—more to bleed off the pressure than to intimidate—then stopped directly in front of her.Close enough that the space between us vanished.Close enough to feel the warmth coming off her skin, to catch the subtle hitch in her breathing before she forced it steady.I saw the pulse at her throat jump, fast and traitorous, even as her face stayed composed.
She noticed the distance.And instead of shrinking back, instead of sinking deeper into the chair like most people did when they realized how close they were to the edge, she rose.Slow.Deliberate.She stood to meet me eye level, spine straight, chin lifted—not defiant exactly, but unyielding.
She refused to cower.
The movement changed everything.It wasn’t just a reaction; it was a choice.A subtle one, but loaded.She was scared—I could see that—but she wasn’t letting fear decide the shape of her body or the space she occupied.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.The tension sat between us, thick and alive, humming with things neither of us was willing to explore.
“You don’t get to punish me for trusting the wrong man,” she whispered.“Whatever sins you’re carrying?They’re not mine.”
The room seemed to contract around us, air thickening until every breath sounded intrusive.
I held her gaze.Didn’t soften.“Where’s your boyfriend now?”
