Page 22 of Ruin My Life
A lean man stands behind a red Mustang in what looks like a garage. He’s wearing a ribbed white tank top and dark jeans with oil stains.
His skin’s more tanned now—like he’s spent every day of summer in the sun. His blonde hair has grown out from the buzz cut in the security footage.
But it’s there.
The songbird tattoo—arching across his chest, just visible above the tank top’s scooping neckline.
His face is perfectly hidden behind the open hood of the car. Whoever took this photo knew exactly what they were doing.
Just enough detail to confirm the match.
Not enough to expose him.
Enough to bait me.
I screenshot the image and save it before I even take another breath.
It’s the firstrealsign of either of them in six months. But it feels too neat. Too controlled. Like cheese set carefully inside a mousetrap.
Still… I can’t bring myself not to take it.
Me:
What do you want in exchange?
Unknown:
A very simple request for The Black Rose.
Hack into Damon King’s network and report back everything you find.
If the info is adequate in three days, I’ll tell you what I know.
Damon King.
The name isn’t unfamiliar. I’ve come across it once or twice in my research—always in red. Always flagged.
The Songbirds’ biggest threat.
Their enemy. Their rival.
Whoever this person is… they’re either a traitor to the Songbirds, or they want to use me to destroy the only man who's ever stood against them.
Either way, I don’t care.
All that matters is the man in that photo.
Me:
Deal.
I’ll have what you need in three days.
Chapter Four
Damon
IFNEWYORK IS A KINGDOM, THENKINGSCounty is the castle I stole—ripped straight from the grimy talons of its former rulers: the Songbirds.
