Page 40 of Ruin My Life
I rub my palm along my jaw, letting the theory marinate. I have enemies—plenty of them. But most wouldn’t be dumb enough to start a war with the Songbirds just to get to me.
“They must have offered her intel in exchange for hacking my network,” I murmur, more to myself than to Lee. “Considering this post is six months old and still open, theyprobably knew she’d be desperate enough to follow through. So I guess the real question is: who hired her, and what do they want with my files?”
Lee doesn’t hesitate. “I can name plenty of Songbirds who’d kill for that kind of leverage.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say grimly. “But that’s the issue. Loyalty runs deep with them. Anyone willing to expose two of their own would have to be desperate, rogue, or stupid.”
“Unless they’re scamming her,” Lee suggests. “Dangling intel and planning to back out.”
“Risky.” I shake my head. “If they’ve followed the same trail we found, they’d know that’s a fast way to end up bleeding in a hotel room. She’s not just smart—she’s methodical. She doesn’t leave loose ends.”
Lee groans and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms. “None of this is going to make sense until we know who she really is.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the door creaks open.
Chavez steps inside—and despite being the youngest, the kid fills the doorway like a damn brick wall.
“Monroe and Connor are back,” he says, swiping his dark curls back from his eyes. “They’re getting her settled in the back room.”
“Good.” I nod to Lee and gesture to my computer. “Pull up the feed. If we can get a clean shot of her face, maybe we can figure out who she was before she becameThe Black Rose.”
“On it.”
Lee spins his chair and rolls across the small room to my desk setup. Chavez shuts the door behind him, and we crowd in tight behind Lee as the screen flickers to life.
The camera feed snaps into focus just as Monroe ducks into the cell, the girl slung over his shoulder like a ragdoll. Her bare legs dangle limply against his chest, arms swinging with each step.
They sedated her, just as I instructed.
Connor follows close behind with a bundle of rope, but the first thing I notice is the gauze wrapped haphazardly aroundone of his hands. With every pulse, it soaks further with blood, turning the white cloth a dark crimson.
“She got him good,” Chavez mutters, his lips twitching into a smirk.
Of course she did…
I’ve always been able to rely on Connor, but he has a habit of throwing himself into the fire just to feel the burn. He’s a little unhinged in that regard, which is why I never send him on jobs by himself.
Monroe’s the opposite. Calculated. Grounded. Always focused on his task and the safety of the team. He doesn’t waste movement, doesn’t let his emotions cloud the mission. Thankfully, Chavez has taken after him too.
That’s why they’re the ones I trust most.
Not because they’re clean. Because they know how to get dirty—and still stay sharp.
Monroe lowers her into the metal chair at the center of the concrete cell, her body limp in his arms. She looks fragile, almost delicate, despite what we know she’s capable of.
Lee zooms in with the camera, trying to get a clear shot of her face, but her thick chestnut waves fall forward, concealing her features. The only thing visible is her mouth—soft, full lips, parted just slightly in her unconscious haze.
Something tugs in my chest, drawing me in.
It’s a strange, unwelcome pull…
I shake it off and refocus as Monroe begins binding her wrists and ankles with the rope Connor brought in.
Once she’s secure, he leans in and lightly taps her cheek.
Once. Twice.
Then, she stirs.
