Page 17 of Ruin Me
I’m silent because there’s no easy answer, but Vogue doesn’t do easy. She sees through bullshit like glass, unfortunately, right now, I can’t offer her the truth she wants—because it’s not mine to give.
“Vogue, please.” My voice breaks through the tension between us. “You have to believe me. We wanted to shield you as long as we could.”
“By lying?” Her eyes are blazing, her spirit as untameable as fire. “By letting me live a lie?”
“Because sometimes,” I take a step forward, close enough to feel the heat of her skin, “the lie is safer than the truth. Aaron didn’t want this life for you. He tried to keep the dirty and dangerous separate from what he hoped would be your normal life.”
“Normal?” Vogue echoes, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. She rubs at her temples like she’s trying to wipe away the confusion. “You call this normal?”
“Compared to what could’ve been? Yeah, I do.” My hands clench at my sides because the urge to reach out to her is strong, but restraint is necessary—she needs space. “He wanted you to have a shot at something better, something clean.”
“Better?” Her voice breaks, and she looks up at me, her gaze searching mine as if the answers might be written there.
“I know it’s hard to wrap your head around. But you were always going to find out, one way or another. Today just forced the situation to a head and you are being inevitably pulled in.”
“And what does ‘inevitably pulled in’ mean, Callum?”
“You’re his blood, Vogue.” I watch her face, trying to gauge her reaction. “And blood, it pulls us in directions we can’t always control.”
“Directions...” She trails off, frowning like she’s piecing together a puzzle with half the pieces missing. “Does my mum even know any of this? Or has she been telling the truth the whole time by sayinghe left us because he couldn’t hack the responsibility?”
“You would have to ask her that. As for the rest… you will have to ask your dad.”
“Dad,” she scoffs. “He’s not mydad.”
Sighing, I accept her anger. She is confused and upset. “I’m just trying to be honest with you. So you understand why things are the way they are.”
“Understand,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me. “Is there even anything to understand anymore?”
“More than you know,” I say quietly, reaching out again, my hand wrapping around hers. Her skin’s soft and delicate, but I grip it like I’m holding on to something more than just flesh and bone. It’s a claim, a silent vow that I’ll keep her safe, even though every inch of me screams to pull her close and never let go. “This wasn’t easy to decide. But lying to you would have been worse.”
Her eyes, wide and drowning in distress, lock onto mine as I hold her hand. She doesn’t pull away, but the tremble in her fingers tells me she’s teetering on the edge of breaking down.
Her voice cracks, barely above a whisper, “Why couldn’t you just leave me out of this? I don’t want any part of this mafia crap. I can’t even believe I’m saying this out loud, for fuck’s sake!” Her voice rises again in anger.
“Because it’s not just about what we want,” I say gently, trying to keep the rawness from my tone. “It’s about what is, and what is, Vogue, is that you’re indanger whether you know it or not, whether you want it or not. That shooting today, we can’t say for sure they were after Quentin.”
Her free hand clenches as she brings it up to her mouth, knuckles whitening as if she’s fighting a battle within herself.
“Being left alone was never an option,” I add, the truth bitter in my mouth. “Not with your blood, not with your father’s enemies lurking in the dark. We needed to step in before they did.”
“Enemies...” she murmurs, her voice trailing off into the silence of the room.
“Yeah, and we’re going to face them, one way or another.”
“I don’t know my father,” she spits out, her voice hard and cold. “And I don’t plan to. You and your secrets, your inevitabilities, you can shove them all up your asses.” She glares at the other guys, but there is nothing anyone can say. I made a decision to tell her for her own safety.
Her fury doesn’t scare me; it’s a fire that tells me she’s alive, kicking against a fate she didn’t choose.
But the words are out now, and there is nothing for it but to keep moving forward and hope to fuck Aaron doesn’t string me up and peel my skin off inch by inch for telling her.
11
VOGUE
Back and forth,back and forth, I walk the length of the hotel room. The thick carpet muffles my steps, but it can’t silence the chaos in my head. The Crowned Syndicate, the name I’ve only just learned, belongs to my father—a man I never knew—who has had eyes on me for who knows how long. How could he watch me struggle and grow up with nothing when he sits on a throne of power and money?
That’s the worst part of this. I don’t care who he is or what he’s done because I don’t give a shit about him, but if he knew all along how mum and I were struggling and did nothing? That fucks me off more than anything.
