Page 112 of Her Ruin

“Okay. My office.” I turned, and we walked back the way I had just come. “I’m so glad I’m not one to overreact when you’re all cloak-and-dagger on me,” I muttered as we walked.

Inside my office, I watched him sink into a chair, and I looked at him.Reallylooked at him. His hair wasn’t as golden, his skin was sallow, and the dark circles under his eyes were alarming.

“Julian?” I took his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I fucked up,” he blurted. “I played, and I can’t play, Isla. I know I can’t play, and I just kept on playing.”

What?“Okay, what are you playing, and how did you fuck up?” I squeezed his hand. “Break it down for me.”

His eyes were flat, his posture defeated. He looked over at me and shrugged. “I lost at cards.”

“And that’s bad because?”

“Because Ilostat cards.”

I sat back. The lower-level club. “At Elixir?”

He shook his head. “No, Zayn doesn’t allow high stakes gambling.”

“Really? He allows everything else.” It was out before I stopped myself.

“This has nothing to do with Zayn,” Julian snapped. “Would you listen more if it was?”

Wow. “I’m sorry. I’m listening.” He was strung so tight. “Tell me how I can help you?”

Julian tipped his head back and glared at the ceiling. “I owe two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

I stood there, the weight of his words echoing in my mind. “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” I repeated aloud, disbelief mingling with anger. Julian’s eyes, usually so full of mischief, were now clouded with regret.

I knew my mouth was open in shock. “How?”

“I lost at cards. Every day, I pay interest, and I now owe more in interest than I do in the original debt.”

I was on my feet. “How?” I couldn’t keep still. “I mean,howis that possible? Is that legal?” I felt like slapping myself. “Of course, it isn’t fucking legal. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking my luck would change and I would win!”

He was an idiot. I stopped pacing and glared at him. “Oh my god, tell me that isn’t what happened. You lose big, Julian,you walk away. EvenIknowthat!”

I could feel the frustration coiling in my chest—how had I missed this? Why was he so…reckless?

Julian shrugged, a weak smile on his lips. “I thought I could turn it around and start winning again.”

I shook my head in disbelief, my voice rising. “No! No oneeverwins, for God’s sake, Julian, it’s basic gambling one-oh-one.”

For a long, heavy moment, silence stretched between us. I could see the conflict in his eyes, a flicker of shame battling his stubborn pride. Finally, he mumbled, “I don’t know what to do.”

That broke something inside me. “Julian,” I said firmly, stepping closer. “We’ll fix this.” I had no idea how. “I have some money, not a lot; how much do you have?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh…” The enormity of it struck me.

He swallowed hard. “I messed up.” He cleared his throat. “And I got fired.”

I gaped at him. “The job? Your job? But you were working in Chicago…” I stared at him, confused and angry.

“The card game’s in Chicago.”

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