Page 25 of Ruin Me
I nod, but it’s automatic, unconvincing. “Just thinking.”
“About what we told you?” Callum asks, his gaze steady on mine.
“About everything.” My voice is a whisper, lost in the chatter around us. The risks of joining them are high and not just about dodging bullets or looking over my shoulder. It’s about changing who I am, letting go of the part of me that believes in a normal life—a life outside of this madness.
“Hey,” Harrison leans in, his brow furrowed. “You don’t have to decide anything right now.”
But the thing is, I do. Time isn’t a luxury I own anymore.
“Maybe not,” I murmur, “but waiting won’t change the facts. If I’m in danger because of my father, because of my blood, then sitting on the sidelines won’t keep me safe.” Do I let the currents pull me along, or do I swim against them?
For a moment, silence wraps around our table,and I let it linger, let it give space to my racing thoughts. Aligning myself with themafiais a dive into an abyss, but at least I choose when and how I jump.
“Okay,” I finally breathe out, feeling my resolve harden like ice. “I’m not going to be anyone’s target. And I sure as hell won’t be a pawn.”
“Then what will you be?” Quentin asks, his question hanging between us like a challenge.
“I’ll be me,” I say, the words carrying a weight of decision. “And I’ll embrace whatever comes with that. My heritage, this protection—I’ll make it mine.”
There’s a shift in their expressions—respect and something else, something like recognition. They see it, the choice I’m making. It’s not just acceptance; it’s a claim.
“Alright then,” Callum says, his voice low. “Welcome to the fold.”
“Remember,” Harrison adds, “it’s not just about taking control. It’s about keeping it.”
“Control,” I echo. The word tastes like power, like possibility. Even though the path ahead is shrouded in uncertainty, I feel a flicker of excitement, a dark thrill that washes over me and will probably sweep me away.
“Understand this,” Callum says, each word deliberate, “your life isn’t your own anymore. It belongs to The Syndicate.”
“It was never mine anyway, was it?” My response is immediate, almost reckless.
“Good.” Quentin leans back, arms folded. “Because once you’re in, there’s no out.”
The implications echo through me, but my determination doesn’t falter. I chose this. I need this.
“Then I’d better be worth the trouble,” I counter, meeting his stare.
“Oh, you are,” Thayer murmurs, his tone lighter, teasing the edge of the tension around us.
“Welcome to the dark side, Vogue,” Harrison says with a grim smile on his lips.
Their words are like a contract signed in blood, etched into the air between us. This is real now, and a shiver of fear runs through me—but it’s edged with that dark thrill I can’t deny.
“Here’s to the dark side,” I murmur, lifting my empty tea cup in a mock toast.
As we leave the café together, I feel the pull of my choice. It’s a descent into a world rife with shadows and danger. No turning back. But there’s also a sense of stepping into my power, claiming a birthright I never asked for but was maybe always destined for.
I walk alongside these guys of power, not behind or in front, my steps matching their confident strides. My heart races, adrenaline mingling with a sense of purpose. Fear, yes, but excitement, too—because this is my life now. I’m ready to face down anyone who thinks they can use me as their chess piece.
Yes, Aaron McGowan, I’m talking about you.
We move as one unit across the quad. Callum walks with a confidence that’s both reassuring and terrifying. He doesn’t look back; he doesn’t need to. His world is one of forward motion, consequences be damned.
Quentin moves in beside me, his presence a silent reminder of the strength that now surrounds me. “Your instincts will sharpen in time,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact but not unkind. “You’ll learn to read the signs, anticipate moves.”
“Like chess?” I ask, half-joking, but my heart isn’t in it.
“Exactly like chess,” he confirms. “Only the pieces are real, and they bleed.”
