Page 165 of Ruins
“You two can leave for the day,” he says, flashing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You too, Nico.”
Nico pauses, his fork halfway to his mouth. His brow furrows, and for the first time since I entered the room, real tension crackles in the air.
“I thought you wanted me to stay while you and Vasi—”
“No, you’re not needed,” Angelo interrupts smoothly, that smile widening. “I have Vasilisa.” His hand slides gently down my side, slow, deliberate. I suppress a shudder, my stomach twisting.
“I don’t think that would be appropriate, boss,” Nico says, his voice hard, controlled. He sets his fork down with a quietclinkand stands, his shoulders squared, his scar more pronounced under the shadow of his growing anger.
“Challenging me, Nico?”
“Just suggesting,” Nico replies evenly, but there’s steel beneath his words.
The two men lock eyes.
The room goes still, the unspoken power struggle thickening the air. My pulse pounds against my ribs.
Then, Angelo laughs, a slow, dark sound that makes my skin crawl. “Fine,” he says, waving a dismissive hand as if he’s humoring a child. “You three stay. Tiny and I have business to attend todownstairs.”
Confusion flickers through me. My gaze shifts to Angelo’s profile, his smirk unwavering. “Downstairs?”
He finally turns to look at me, his expression unreadable, but the glint in his eyes unsettles me. “Yes, Tiny.”
Before I can protest, he stands and presses a guiding hand against the small of my back. The pressure is firm, insistent, but not forceful—not yet.
I glance back at Luca, Romeo, and Nico, their faces set with silent concern. But no one stops him.
I force my spine straight as Angelo leads me toward the kitchen pantry.
At first, confusion clouds my thoughts. But as we pass my large stash of junk food, something catches my eye. A glint of metal peeks from the shadows—a small silver button embedded in the back wall.
Angelo presses his finger to it.
A low vibration hums through the air, deep and resonant.
Then, with a soft whoosh, the wall splits apart, sliding open in smooth, mechanical precision.
An elevator.
Ahiddenelevator.
My breath catches, my pulse kicking into high gear. I’ve lived in this house for months.Months.And I had no idea this existed.
Angelo chuckles, the sound vibrating low in his chest as he nudges me forward. “Surprised, Piccola?”
I step inside hesitantly, my eyes flicking over the sleek interior. The control panel has five buttons, each labeled with a single letter.
Angelo presses the last one labeled ‘B.’
The doors slide shut.
We begin to descend.
The ride is eerily smooth, the silence stretching uncomfortably between us. I keep my arms tight around myself, my mind racing through every possible reason why this hidden place exists.
The doors open with a quiet ding, revealing something I never expected.
A sprawling underground space, brightly lit and expansive.
