Page 9 of Ruined

I press back against the seat, heart hammering against my ribs. His proximity is overwhelming—threatening yet somehow electric. I can see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, smell the faint scent of cologne mixed with something metallic that might be blood.

"You're clever enough to understand the situation you're in," he continues, lips so close to mine that I feel the words more than hear them. "You have two choices. Either you walk to that car on your own, or I drag you there myself. But one way or another, you're getting in that fucking car."

His eyes hold mine, unflinching, unapologetic. In them I see something beyond the threat—a cold certainty that chills me more than his words.

I swallow hard, finding my voice. "And if I scream? If I fight?"

"There's no one to hear you. And I promise you don't want to fight me." His voice softens slightly, though the threat remains. "I'm trying to keep you alive, Evelyn. Don't make it harder than it needs to be."

I make a subtle nod to Matteo, who's leaning against his car watching us with that fucking amused look he always gets when shit gets complicated. He catches my signal immediately and moves to the side of Evelyn's car, blocking her potential escape route.

"Don't even think about it," I say, opening my door.

The moment my feet hit the pavement, I see movement in my peripheral vision. Evelyn lunges across the center console, scrambling desperately for the driver's seat. Her hands grab for the steering wheel, her body twisting with surprising agility.

Smart girl. Too bad I'm faster.

I reach the rear door in three strides, yanking it open before she can lock it. Her eyes widen—those stormy blue eyes that looked so calm when she played her violin are now wild with fear and rage.

"Let me go!" she shouts as I grab her around the waist.

I lift her out of the car like she weighs nothing. Her body is small against mine, fragile but fighting. She's all sharp elbows and flailing limbs, her fists connecting with my chest and shoulders. The hits don't hurt—it’s like a kitten trying to take down a wolf.

"Put me down!" Her voice rises, cracking with panic. "You can't do this!"

Her hair whips across my face as she thrashes, the scent of something expensive and floral filling my senses. I tighten my grip, careful not to bruise but firm enough that she can't break free.

"Stop fighting," I growl into her ear. "You're just making this harder."

"Fuck you!" She kicks backward, narrowly missing my groin. "I'll scream. I'll?—"

"Go ahead. No one's around to hear you."

She twists in my arms, her eyes meeting mine with pure hatred. "You said you were protecting me."

I can't help the cold smile that forms on my face. "I am protecting you. But now I'm also kidnapping you."

"You bastard," she hisses, renewing her struggle.

Matteo chuckles from where he stands. "Feisty one, isn't she?"

I ignore him, focused on containing the wildcat in my arms without hurting her. She's breathing hard, her chest rising and falling against mine. For a woman who looks so controlled on stage, she fights with unexpected ferocity.

"I was giving you a choice before," I tell her, my voice low and even. "That option's gone now."

I carry Evelyn to Matteo's car, her body still twisting against mine. Every movement she makes only tightens my grip. I've dealt with men twice her size who gave up struggling against me. She doesn't.

"Let me go!" She lands a surprisingly sharp elbow to my ribs.

I grunt but don't loosen my hold. "The more you fight, the longer this takes."

Matteo holds the back door open, that smirk still plastered on his face. I slide into the backseat with Evelyn still in my arms, pulling her across my lap. She immediately tries to lunge for the door but I lock my arm around her waist, anchoring her against me.

"You won't win this," I say into her ear. Her hair smells like expensive shampoo, the tender skin of her neck like fear.

Matteo slams the door and circles to the driver's side, sliding behind the wheel. The engine purrs to life as he adjusts the rearview mirror, his eyes meeting mine.

"Where to?" he asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

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