Page 89 of Shades of Ruin

“That girlwas always meant to bemine. You were just a distraction who had to cheat your way into a competition you never earned. And now you’re carving out hearts like a lunatic to catch the attention of someone who will never, ever give a fuck about you.”

“You were always my favorite, Grey,” she hums with an indulgent, sweet edge to her tone. “No one ever compared. And even though you’re cruel, I still love you.”

“That’s as much a lie now as it was then,chérie,” I snarl.

“I still want you, Grey. After all these years, I’ve never wanted anything more. We’re the same, you and I. Together, we could be unstoppable.”

“I would rather you cut out my heart to add your grotesque collection than ever give it to you freely.”

“That could be arranged,” she seethes. “If I can’t have you, I don’t see why anyone should.”

“And there’s the psychotic bitch we all know and hate,” Iannounce with a clap. “Thought you were getting sentimental on me for a minute.”

Her eyes narrow. “You should be careful, Grey. I don’t have to hurtyouto make you suffer.”

“Yes, Tobias told me about your little torture tactics. But what sort of monster would use them on a child?” I shake my head in disgust. “He’ll be staying with me, by the way. You’ve already told everyone I’m his father, so it looks like he and I have nine years of father-son bonding to catch up on.”

“Do you think I care if you keep the ungrateful boy? It will just give you another weak point to exploit.” She glances down at her sharpened nails. “The way I see it, you have too many as it is.”

I cross my arms over my chest and glare down at the woman I was once naive and stupid enough to love. “I’ll take my chances. Now get the fuck out of my restaurant.”

Without a word, she gathers her things and stands. Opening up her purse, she pulls out a thick stack of hundreds and throws them on the table, just like I did the last time I saw her on a rainy day in Paris.

Her dark blue eyes flick up to mine, the teary sadness in them so pure I could swear they were real. Until her red lips pull into a sinister smile that melts away every drop of false-brokenness in her expression. Apart from her mind, there’s not a damn broken thing about her. She’s livid, and she’s dangerous, and there’s no knowing what she might do next.

“Bonne nuit,chéri,” she calls in a voice sweet as ripened cherries before walking out into the night.

I have a gut feeling this isn’t the end of her. Not yet, anyway.

Chapter Forty-Two

ANGÉLICA

The moment Grey comes to meet us in his office, I know something is wrong. He doesn’t wear the drawn expression of someone who’s been fighting with an ex. He looks like he’s had a skirmish withLa Patasolaand barely escaped with his life. He masks his haunted expression before turning to Tobias and asking him if he would like to stay with us for a little while. Tobias says yes with an excitement that fills my chest with a warmth I’ve never felt before.

I’d hardly call Grey and myself parent material—we both had complicated relationships with our parents that left us scarred in our own ways—but if genuinely caring for the kid counts for anything, we can give Tobias that and more. I’m not sure how long he’ll stay with us, but I’m happy to have him around for as long as he’d like to be here.

Grey sends Tobias and me up to the apartment while he finishes dinner at Grey’s. I don’t love being sent away from him when all I want is answers, but he promises we’ll talk when he gets home. We’re both professional enough to put the needs of the restaurant above our personal issues when we have to. So Itry to brush aside my hurt feelings and focus on making Tobias feel comfortable in his new home.

Thankfully, Grey has an extra bedroom, so Tobias won’t be forced to sleep on the couch while he’s here. And I’m especially grateful that Grey chose to put his playroom on an entirely different level, given that we’ll be under the scrutiny of a nine-year-old for the foreseeable future. I can only hope his bedroom is soundproof, although I’ve never had a reason to ask.

Tobias asks if he can help make dinner, and I’m more than thrilled to have him be my sous in Grey’s kitchen. I wrap Grey’s black apron around his narrow waist and laugh when I have to overlap the ties three times to get it to fit. He’s tall enough that the length of the apron isn’t too bad. I throw on my own apron, and we get to work.

I let Tobias pick our dish for tonight, and he settles on coquillettes au jambon, a French version of macaroni with a béchamel sauce and diced ham. It’s decadent and creamy with not a vegetable in sight, and he and I devour the whole pot without saving any leftovers for Grey. I’ll focus on working some fruits and vegetables into Tobias’s meals tomorrow, but for a comfort dish after a long and stressful day, coquillettes au jambon was a perfect choice.

I give him one of Grey’s t-shirts to sleep in and find a spare toothbrush under the bathroom sink. It’s enough for tonight, but we’ll have to get him some actual clothes and other things in the morning.

Tobias’ bright blue eyes look too wide-awake for sleep, so I sing him one of the songs my mother would sing when I was small. He doesn’t understand the words, but the soft lull of my voice slowly puts him to sleep. I can’t resist brushing the dark hair from his temples, tenderness overwhelming me at the sight of how peaceful his face looks when he dreams.

His father has never looked so soft and innocent when hesleeps. I can’t help but think that he might have if he hadn’t been broken so young. Tobias is a chance to keep the past from repeating itself.

I wait on the sofa in the living room, hugging my knees to my chest as I watch the elevator door for signs of Grey. I must doze off before he finally gets home, and I blink away the bleariness in my eyes as I watch him set several bags on the floor. “Did you go shopping?” I rub my hand over my tired eyes and stifle a yawn.

“I needed to get a few things for Tobias—clothes and shoes and a few toys I thought he might like. It’ll be enough until we can take him out Sunday.”

I nod as I look over the multiple shopping bags piled by the door. It looks like Grey bought out an entire mall. Seeing someone as vicious and imposing as Grey panic buy for a nine-year-old boy is the most endearing thing I’ve experienced in a very long time. “Think you got enough?” I ask, unable to stifle a giggle.

“Don’t fucking laugh. I didn’t know what to buy, so I just got a lot of everything.”

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