Page 11 of Ruined

Matteo barks out a laugh from the driver's seat. "She thinks you're that clever, Rivera? That's fucking hilarious."

But Noah doesn't laugh. His jaw tightens and something dangerous flashes across his face. He turns in his seat, the movement so sudden it makes me flinch back against the leather.

"You think I hired those men to attack you?" His voice drops to something barely above a whisper. "You think I need to create a fucking situation to take what I want?"

The car feels smaller suddenly, the air thinner.

"If I wanted you, little violinist, I would have taken you. No games. No excuses." He leans closer and I press myself against the door. "I don't play with my food."

Matteo glances over, his amusement fading as he senses Noah's anger.

"She doesn't know you yet, man. Cut her some slack."

Noah ignores him, his eyes locked on mine. "Those men were Ivan's. They were going to take you to him. And whatever he had planned for you—" He stops, something shifting in his expression. "Let's just say what I'm doing is merciful in comparison."

"Then why were you there?" I demand, refusing to back down despite the fear crawling up my spine. "Were you following me?"

A cold smile touches his lips. "Yes."

His simple "yes" hangs between us like a blade.

"Why?" I ask, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. "Why follow me?"

Noah turns back to face the windshield, his profile sharp against the passing streetlights. The silence stretches between us, heavy and oppressive. I wait for an answer that doesn't come.

"Cat got your tongue?" I press, anger giving me courage I shouldn't have. "You seem to have plenty to say when you're threatening me."

Still nothing. Just that unnerving stillness, like he's carved from stone.

Matteo clears his throat, glancing between us in the rearview mirror. "Don't take it personally, princess. Noah here has a thing for watching beautiful women from afar. It's kinda his hobby—like bird watching, but creepier."

I catch Matteo's eyes in the mirror and despite everything, a laugh bubbles up in my throat. It's absurd—this whole situation is absurd.

"Bird watching?" I repeat, raising an eyebrow. "So what am I then? A rare tropical species?"

Matteo's face cracks into a genuine smile. "More like a nightingale in a city full of pigeons."

"Shut up, Matteo," Noah growls, but there's less edge to it than before.

"What? I'm just making conversation." Matteo glances at me again. "It's called being polite. You should try it sometime."

I seize the moment of lightness. "Is he always this charming, or am I getting special treatment?"

Matteo throws up his hands from the steering wheel in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just the driver in this kidnapping operation. Don't drag me into your lovers' quarrel."

His laugh fills the car and I find myself smiling despite everything. It's strange how the human mind works—finding humor in the darkest moments, clinging to any scrap of normalcy.

Noah turns to look at me again and the half-smile freezes on my face. There's nothing humorous in his expression—just that same intense focus that makes me feel like I'm being dissected.

"You're not a bird," he says. "You're much more dangerous than that."

The silence returns to the car, heavy and suffocating. My mind races, trying to process everything that's happened. Threemen attacked me in my own building. Noah somehow appeared at the perfect moment to ‘save’ me. And now I'm being taken to some unknown location against my will.

What would those men have done if they'd succeeded? The thought sends ice through my veins. I've heard whispers about Ivan's operation—the trafficking, the disappearances. Would I have become just another missing person? Another name in a police report gathering dust?

And Noah... why was he watching me? Following me? His intense gaze feels like a physical weight whenever it lands on me. There's something predatory about it, something that makes my skin crawl and yet?—

I push that thought away immediately.

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