Page 32 of Her Ruin

There was no point prolonging the suffering anymore. Zayn already knew I’d lost. I straightened my shoulders, lifting my chin. “Fine.”

His smirk deepened. “Good girl.”

I pivoted on my heel before I could say something that might truly cost me, striding towards the door with as much dignity as I could manage.

“And, Isla?”

I stopped, hand gripping the handle, but I didn’t turn around. I was barely holding on as it was.

His voice was low, smooth. Dangerous.

“Next time you think about insulting me,” he murmured, “try harder.”

My nails pressed into my palm as I yanked the door open and stepped out, slamming it shut behind me with more force than necessary. The sharp, final sound echoed in the hallway, but it did nothing to quiet the pounding in my chest.

I had to resist the urge to run down the stairs, every instinct within me pushing to create as much distance as possible between myself and the devil behind that door. My breathing was uneven, and my hands clenched into fists as I forced myself to walk—not run—through the bright corridor towards the security guard who was clearly waiting for me at the end.

The security guy didn’t acknowledge me, nor did I acknowledge him. My mind was still in the office. I could still feel Zayn, still hear the mocking edge in his voice, still smell the faint mix of whiskey and something darker that clung to him. The heat of his words and his body lingered as if he had burned himself into my skin, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake it.

I wanted to stop, catch my breath, and take a second, but I’d seen the cameras and had no doubt he was watching me leave.

Get a grip.

I refused to admit he had unsettled me. I wasn’t shaken. I wasn’t.

I wasfurious.Furious that I had been put in this position, that I had toowe himfor anything. That was all this was.

Anger…

As I left Elixir, ignoring Rye’s expectant gaze at the entrance, I told myself that was the truth.

But deep down, beneath the rage, something far more dangerous lurked.

Desire.

CHAPTER10

ZAYN

I waiteduntil I heard the slam of the door and saw her hurrying down the stairs. Shaking my head as I leaned back in my chair, I let out a quiet laugh.

Fuck, she was something else.

Watching her pretend she wasn’t affected, like I hadn’t gotten under her skin—for whatever reason—and the way she stormed out had been amusing. The way her pulse jumped beneath my fingers when I touched her throat, yeah, Isla Wells was a shit liar. I affected her, and there was no denying she felt it.

And that was the most entertaining part of all.

I scanned the monitors, switched the lower row on, and brought the lower club level to life. Both clubs were busy, and warm satisfaction spread through my chest. It wasn’t just seeing how successful my business was.

It was her.

Isla had walked into my office with determination in her veins, demanding terms, thinking she could set the rules. But when it came down to it, she’d done what I wanted. She had no choice.

I knew she would hate that.

And I fucking loved it.

The office door opened, and Rye walked in, closing the door behind him. He crossed his arms as he appraised me, seeing the smile I was no longer hiding. “She’s gone. She’s not happy,” he said with amusement. “I take it you got what you wanted?”

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