Page 52 of Ruin My Life
“I’m getting there.” His smirk sharpened to a knife’s edge.
Chavez steps back toward the door. He doesn’t say anything, just casts one last look at me before slipping into the hall.
Part of me wishes he’d stay.
Not because I trust him. But because something about being alone with Damon King sets my nerves on edge. It’s like being left in a cage with a lion who’s still deciding if he’s hungry.
Damon stands close, his dark eyes lingering on the red bump I can already feel forming at my temple. He clicks his tongue softly and brushes a few strands of hair from my face. The gesture is infuriatingly gentle.
“That’s going to leave anastybruise.”
A shiver crawls down my spine—not from the pain, but from the contrast. The same hand that he pinned me with earlier is now touching me like I’m made of glass.
I jerk my head away. “Don’t touch me.”
To my surprise, he doesn’t push back. His hand drops, and both slide into his pockets like nothing happened.
But his lips twist with something dangerously close to satisfaction.
“You ready to start cooperating?”
I meet his gaze head-on, forcing steel into my voice. “I’m not the submissive type,” I snap.
His smirk deepens like I’ve just confirmed something he already suspected.
“Even if I cooperate, you’re not going to let me go. So why should I?”
He tilts his head, eyes narrowing like he’s studying a riddle. “I probably shouldn’t,” he agrees. “But I don’t get rid of people unless they really deserve it.”
He steps in, closing the space between us until his voice is a low hum brushing against my lips.
“You, though... you might be worth keeping around.”
The warmth in his voice spreads across my skin like fire.
I hate how it feels—how it lingers.
My cheeks flush, and I curse the heat rising up my neck. “Go to hell,” I bite, trying desperately to mask the tremor in my chest. “I don’t work for anyone—especiallynot a Songbird.”
“Ex-Songbird,” he corrects, his eyes gleaming. “So, all that personal info you pulled on me... that was just for fun?”
I don’t answer. I keep my glare steady, refusing to give him what he wants.
He’s testing me. Looking for the weak seam in my armour. But I’ve come too far to let it split now.
He leans in again, slow and calculated, those dark eyes locked on mine. “I know someone hired you to dig into my life. I’ll find out who it is—sooner or later.” Then his voice drops to a gravelled whisper. “My own hacker’s already tearing through your system as we speak.”
Rage surges through me, sharp and immediate.
“Don’t touch my laptop!”
The chair jerks forward with the force of my movement, scraping loudly against the concrete. But Damon clamps it down with both hands, gripping the sides of the seat tightly. His wrists brush against my bare thighs as he pins the chair back in place, and the sudden skin-to-skin sends a jolt through me.
His face is only inches from mine now. I can feel his breath—warm, threaded with the promise of a threat—and my chest tightens with a cocktail of fury and adrenaline.
“Behave,” he whispers darkly, “or I might reconsider letting you leave here with your life.”
My pulse thunders in my ears as his gaze burns into my very soul—dangerous and unblinking—and I know he means it.
