Page 64 of Ruin Me
“It’s not a threat, Vogue. It’s reality,” Aaron says roughly, the words weighted with an edge that cuts through the bullshit. “This game we’re playing—it’s lethal, and it doesn’t care about love or loyalties.”
There’s a beat of silence between us, heavy as lead. Aaron’s eyes hold mine, unwavering, unapologetic. For a moment, I see the man he might have been once—someone who had dreams and fears like everyone else. But that man is gone, buried under years of decisions made in the shadows.
I stand up abruptly. I need to move before I lose it completely. “So, what now?” I demand, my voice steady despite the chaos swirling inside me.
Aaron follows my movement with his eyes, considering his next words carefully. “Now you stay close.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Close.” Taking in a deep breath, I ask the question that’s burning in my mind. “Why are you doing this now? Why come forward after all these years?”
He looks at me, his jaw set. “Because the past has a way of catching up, no matter how hard you try tooutrun it. My legacy is knocking on your door, Vogue.”
I can feel my heart hammering against my ribcage. There’s a sting of truth to his words that I can’t ignore. The threat isn’t just abstract anymore; it’s concrete, and it’s here.
“Who knows about me?” I ask sharply.
“Enough people to be a problem,” he replies, his tone grim. “We’ve kept you under the radar all your life, but now someone’s connecting dots that should have remained unconnected.”
“The insider?”
He nods grimly.
“And you have no idea who it is?”
“Not yet.”
His admission hangs in the air, thick with ominous potential. It feels like a clock ticking down somewhere, but I can’t find it, can’t stop it. We are exposed and vulnerable. The thought that my life—and theirs—could be ripped apart by some unknown enemy sends an icy wave of terror through me.
I look down at my hands, trying to steady the tremor in them as I grapple with this new and confusing reality. “What’s your plan?”
Aaron moves closer, his eyes scanning the room before settling back on me. “We tighten our circle. Keep you and the boys under constant watch.”
“Prisoners in our lives,” I mutter bitterly.
“No,” he corrects sharply, “survivors in a war most people don’t even know is happening.”
I look up at him. Aaron, my father, the man whoshould’ve been there but wasn’t, and now I’m supposed to just fall in line because he says so?
“So what? You’re expecting me to jump every time you say so? I’m not one of your foot soldiers.”
“You don’t have to be,” Aaron says evenly, but there’s an undercurrent of something else there, too. A plea? Regret? “But Vogue, I need you to understand the severity of this situation.”
I nod tersely, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how affected I am by all this crap as I sit again. “I need time to think about this. About everything you’ve said. I need to call Mum… this whole thing is a shitshow.”
“No kidding,” he mutters. “You can go back to your life at Crestmont under a very specific set of rules. No negotiation.”
“And what rules would those be, then?”
“The boys are currently undergoing a test. If they pass, you get to live under their protection. If they fail…”
I don’t even want to ask what happens if they fail, other than they will probably be dead. “What kind of test?” I croak.
“If they survive, they can tell you all about it back home.”
He sits down again and leans back, folding his hands in his lap, giving me a searching stare that leaves my insides stripped bare.
34
QUENTIN
