Page 16 of Ruin Me
“Someone’s going to have to,” Quen mutters. “But I agree, she needs to know what’s going down.”
With that decided, I waste no more time. “Vogue,” I say, my voice steady as I sit on the coffee table in front of her. “There’s something you need to know.”
She stirs, blinking up at me, unaware of the world’s weight yet. But she will—in seconds—because I’m about to drop it on her.
“Hmm?” She looks around at the four guys all staring at her and sits upright, her hair a tumble around her shoulders, her eyes like molten chocolate, alert and wary. “What’s wrong?” she asks, running her hands through the dark waves, momentarily distracting me.
“Your father,” I start, no fluff, no soft landing. “Aaron McGowan. He is high up in The Crowned Syndicate. It is a large mafia family with ties all over the UK and Europe.”
“What?” She shakes her head. “What are you talking about?”
“All this,” I press on, needing to get it out now I’ve started. “All of us, we are part of the mafia, and you are too.”
Her eyes go wide, so wide I can see the whites around the iris. She clutches at the blanket like it’s the last solid thing in the world. It might be, for her, after this.
“I still don’t follow. My father? I don’t even know who he is.”
“Aaron McGowen. HeisThe Crowned Syndicate.”
Vogue blinks. “What?”
“You are mafia royalty, Vogue. He has power—lots of it.” I keep my voice low, trying not to sound like the harbinger of doom, even though that’s exactly what I am right now. “He plays a big game—dangerous stuff, and now, because of him, you’re in play, too.”
“Me?” She laughs, but there’s no humour in it, just sharp edges. “I’m nobody. Just a girl from Westfield.”
‘Nobody’ isn’t a word that applies to her—not anymore. She might hail from a modest background, but she’s got a legacy, whether she likes it or not—a legacy written in blood and secrets. I see it—the way her mind races, how she tries to put together the pieces of a puzzle she never knew she was part of.
“Callum, why are you telling me this?” Her face is a mess of emotions, the kind of chaos that comes from having your reality ripped out from under you.
“Because you need to know. You have tounderstand what you’re up against. What we’re up against.”
Harrison makes a noise like he’s about to protest, but one look from me cuts him off. This isn’t a debate. It’s the cold, hard truth, served up raw and unflinching.
“Callum...” Vogue trails off, her voice thin, her gaze fixed on some point far away. “This is... it’s too much. How do you know all of this about that asshole, and I don’t?”
“I know everything.” I sit next to her, giving her space but close enough to be a presence. “But we don’t get to choose our battles, Vogue, or our family.”
Now, there’s a battle ahead, one I’ve been born into, and she’s been thrust into. It’s ugly, brutal, and waits for no one. For Vogue, the fight has just begun.
I reach out, my hand brushing against hers. “We’ve been looking out for you,” I say, my voice steady. “From the shadows, without you knowing. Not us, but the Syndicate,” I explain.
She flinches at the contact, eyes snapping to mine. The vulnerability is raw and unguarded. “Looking out for me?” Her voice is sharp, the pitch climbing with every word. “Is that what you call it? Watching from a distance while my whole life turns out to be some sick joke?”
“Vogue, it’s not like that.” My fingers tighten on her hand, willing her to understand. “It’s complicated. Your father?—“
“Stop.” She shoves my hand away, her own shaking. “Just stop. My father?” She laughs again, but it’sbitter and painful. “You mean the man who left me and my mum to fend for ourselves? Who never so much as sent a birthday card? A man whose name I didn’t even know until you vomited it all over me the second I woke up?”
“Okay, gross,” I point with a soft laugh. “And I know. I’m sorry this is a lot but today changed things. Aaron has his reasons—“ I start, trying to sound reasonable.
“Reasons?” Vogue stands up, pacing like a caged animal. “What reasons could possibly justify this? Why didn’t he tell me? Why did he leave us alone, let me believe we were nothing, that I was nothing?”
“Vogue...” I get up too, aware of Quentin’s stare drilling into me, Harrison’s frown, Thayer’s quiet presence. But they don’t matter right now. Only she does.
“Was it fun for you all?” Each word is a bullet, shot through with betrayal. “Playing guardian angels to the ignorant idiot?”
“It’s about protection, about keeping you safe.”
“Safe from what?” She stops and turns to face me, her chest heaving with emotion. “From my own family? From who I really am?”
