Page 52 of Her Ruin

I smiled tightly. Did she want the truth or the lie? “We worked together better than I thought we would.” There, she could take that however she wanted.

Lyndsay gave me a sympathetic nod, clearly not believing one word I’d said. “That’s unfortunate.” She looked around again. “You really are exceptional, Isla. But to be played so easily?” She tsked. “Potentially disastrous. I hope you can bounce back.”

I barely resisted the urge to throw my drink in her face.

Instead, I excused myself with a polite nod and an excuse to visit the bathroom. I weaved through the crowd, ignoring the cheerful buzz of conversation and the occasionalwell done. That was worse. They thought Iworkedfor him.

I wanted to correct them, but I was too furious. I was too focused on getting to the bathroom, locking myself in a stall, and screaming into my hands.

I startled when a cool hand caught my elbow, slipping to the small of my back, steering me past the bathrooms and into a small room. Turning, I looked around the storage closet, trying to avoid making eye contact.

Zayn stood with his back to the door, whiskey in hand, still looking infuriatingly pleased with himself.

“You’re unbelievable.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up. “I’ve heard that before.”

I stepped too close, my voice low and sharp. “You bastard.”

“Now, now, Isla. You knew my parents.”

I took a slow breath, keeping my shoulders relaxed andmy expression neutral. So that’s what he wanted; he didn’t want a confrontation—he wanted aperformance.

He wanted to play games.

Fine. I’d play his fucking games.

I took a step back, letting out a slow smile, even as I wanted to rake my nails across his face. “You really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

He sipped his drink, watching me over the rim of his glass. “Help myself?” His gaze swept over me. “Help myself to what?”

I ignored the blatant sexuality emanating from him. “You took credit for something you had nothing to do with.”

His eyes darkened slightly. “That’s where you’re wrong, Is.” He saw me become still. He leaned forwards, his voice dipping low. “I gave you a venue. I gave you access. I let you use my space, my resources, my people.” He let the words settle over me. “I never said you were in control.”

Each word stung, but I refused to let him see it. Instead, I lifted my chin. “I thought it meant you were honoring our agreement.”

Zayn chuckled softly. “I honored our deal. The gala happened, didn’t it? It wasverysuccessful.”

I clenched my jaw, furious at how casual he was. He was completely unaffected. “You’re a piece of work, McCabe.”

His lips quirked. “And yet you’re still standing here.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to demand why he was such a hateful dick. I wanted to pretend none of this mattered. But it did. And he knew it.

I hated how this had happened, how he had pulled the rug out from under me, how he hadletme believe I was the one running the show, only for him to remind everyone that this was his kingdom.

And the very worst part? He wasn’t wrong.

This was his club, his empire. How would I have ever had control of that? It was a bitter pill to swallow. I took a slow breath, stepping back, gesturing to the door, letting him know I wanted out. “Enjoy your victory, Zayn.”

The gleam in his eyes didn’t fade. “I always do.”

I needed out of there. “Let me out.”

“No.” He downed his whiskey, placing the glass on a shelf.

I blinked, my stomach tightening. “Excuse me?”

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