Page 12 of Ruin Me Gently

A woman. Trapped.

Frozen like prey. Silver eyes wide and glassy, locked onto nothing. Not moving, barely breathing.

Her black, intricately beaded mask was useless. A flimsy thing that didn’t hide the terror in her face, didn’t cover the way her body was pulled tight like a tripwire ready to snap.

And a man whose hand was clamped around her wrist. Knuckles bone-white with the force of his grip, fingers digging into her delicate skin so tightly it had to hurt. Hewashurting her. I could see it in the twitch of her lips, the way she winced but didn’t pull away.

Anger flared in my blood like a match sparking against dry wood.

“I suggest you let go of her. Now. And walk away,” I ground out, voice laced with steel.

He froze, his head snapping toward me, his grip loosening instantly, likeshewas the one hurtinghim.

“Hey, it’s not what it looks like,” he stammered, voice rushing out in a weak, frantic tumble. “We were—this is a misunderstanding. Lils, tell him—”

A violent heat rose behind my eyes, crimsonflooding my vision.

The way he spoke to her—like she owed him anything after the way she looked right now. It wasn’t just wrong, it was downright offensive.

The colour drained from his face as I took a step forward, towering over him “Go.”

His eyes flicked back to her in a pathetic last attempt to salvage control.

The small, choked noise she let out as she tried to swallow past it felt like a stab to the heart. Then, she turned on her heel and bolted, her black gown vanishing between the swirling silk and shifting bodies of the ballroom.

“Fottuto stronzo,” I spat before shooting him a final warning glare, the kind that carried the unspoken promise of pain if he even thought about following.

He stiffened under it, his mouth twitching open like he had something to say. But nothing came out.

Broom closets, empty banquet rooms, the pool area, the spa.

I’d even gone as far as checking the women’s bathrooms, which earned me a chorus of screams and a few choice insults—but I hadn’t cared.

It took me thirty minutes until I finally found her.

The hotel rooftop was as extravagant as it was inside. Heated stone floors, designer furniture, and soft golden light from hung lanterns filled the space. Guests came and went throughout the night up here, most just looking for a quiet moment above the noise.

But now, it was empty. Except for her.

She was curled up on one of the oversized outdoor couches, legs tucked beneath her, staring out over the glittering skyline.

The wind teased loose tendrils of hair from her up-do, brushing them along her neck as she tilted her head.

A pale plume of smoke curled into the air. A cigarette.

I lingered, half-hidden in the shadows. Maybe she wanted to be alone, maybe thiswas none of my business. But then I remembered the way that asshole’s hand had crushed her wrist, and I couldn’t stop myself. I just needed to be sure she was okay.

My footsteps were quiet against the stone as I crossed the space, but she must have heard me. Her entire body stiffened, shoulders rising slightly as if bracing for whatever came next. I stopped a few feet away, completely uncertain of what I should do next.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She turned her head, not quite meeting my gaze, but enough for me to catch the full view of her eyes—andcazzo,my lungs forgot how to do their job.

Her mask lay discarded on the cushion beside her, leaving nothing to shield her features in the soft glow of the lantern light. Up close, those eyes were beautiful. Like storm clouds swirling in a quiet sky—the most striking shade of silver I had ever seen. But beneath their beauty, they were bloodshot, mascara streaked under her lash line, the skin beneath them slightly purple.

“I don’t smoke,” she murmured, turning back toward the city view.

My brow furrowed as I glanced at the cigarette in her hand.

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