Page 226 of Ruin Me Gently

I’d pulled every interview report I could get my hands on—yeah, I’d gained access to those too—and each one had led to the same dead end. No one had seen him. No one knew anything.

Was he really just that lucky?

I clicked back to another more recent page of data.

Lilith.

Her number. Over and over and over.

Bile rose in my throat.

Months of calls. Of check-ins. Of arguments and apologies. Of control.

Thirteen calls in one day.One day.

I ground my teeth, scrolling further.

Timesshe’dcalled him.

How often had she called him because she thought she had to? Because she was scared not to? How many of those nights had he shown up to her place? How many times had she wanted him there? Wanted him enough to let him touch her?

How many times had she moaned his name?

How many times had she gasped beneath him, writhed under his hands?

How many times had he had her like that—had her body soft and willing, had her trembling for him, legs wrapped tight around his waist as he fucked her?

How many times had she cried out for him, begged for more, dug her nails into his back?

White-hot rage blistered up my throat. My fists slammed into the desk.

The laptop rattled and papers jumped.

“Cazzo!”

I braced my hands against the wood, breathing hard as the edges of it bit into my palms.

This wasn’t aboutthat.It wasn’t about me or my stupid ego. About the sick twisted thoughts clawing at my skull. This was about stopping him so he could never lay his hands on herever again.

The image of Lilith bleeding and shaking on the wet pavement hit me like a bullet to the heart. Her arms curled around herself, trying to make herself smaller.

Quel figlio di puttana. Quel pezzo di merda.

I should’ve killed him. I should’ve beaten him until he was a smear on the concrete.

He’d spent so long getting into her head, hurting her, wounding her in ways I couldn’t fix.

And I’d sat here for weeks running down every lead, poring over every goddamn trace of his pathetic existence—and I still hadn’t found him.

It didn’t make sense. I should’ve had him weeks ago. The cops should’ve had him the day he did it.

I promised her he wouldn’t get away with it. Ipromised.

And yet, here I was. Chasing ghosts. Failing the one person who meant more to me than anyone else on this earth.

Failing.

My head spun, acid sizzling through my pores.

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