Page 61 of Ruins
“But you’re not alone, Vasi. You’ve got people who care about you… people who will always have your back.”
I give him a weak smile. “You mean yourself?”
Pietro chuckles, placing the book back in the box. “Well, of course.”
“I know.” My voice wavers as I shift my gaze to my suitcase, uncertainty pressing down on me like a weight I can’t shake.
He must sense it, because he steps closer, gently takes my hand in his and raises it to his lips for a gentle kiss. The tenderness of it sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing through me, burning at the backs of my eyes.
“Hey now,” he murmurs, pulling me into his arms. His scent—faint musk and something inherently him—wraps around me like a safety net, so familiar it aches.
And that’s what breaks me.
A quiet sob slips free, muffled against his chest. He holds me tighter, his broad shoulders absorbing the weight of my fear, my doubts, my quiet desperation. I clutch at his shirt, my fingers digging into the fabric as the tears finally spill over.
“I’m scared, Pietro,” I whisper, my voice barely more than a breath.
“There’s nothing to be scared of, Vasi.” His voice is low, soothing, as he rubs slow circles against my back. “Santo is a good man. He’ll take care of you.”
His words should be a balm, but they only deepen the ache inside me. The world outside is shifting too fast, dragging me along with it, and I feel like I’m losing my grip on everything that once felt solid.
Pietro keeps speaking, his voice a gentle hum in my ear, but I barely hear him over my own thoughts.Santo is a good man. I felt that. Before he stopped speaking to me.
But Pietro...
Pietro has been my constant. My rock. And the thought of losing him—of stepping into this new life without him—feels like stepping off a ledge into the unknown.
“Pietro…” I tilt my head up, blinking through my tears. My heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat, making it impossible to speak, but I force the words out anyway.
“Promise me you won’t leave me.”
He stills, surprise flashing in his eyes before he schools his expression. His grip on me tightens.
“I…” He hesitates, but only for a second before nodding. “I promise, Vasi.” His voice is firm, unwavering. “I will always be here for you. Just a call away.”
His promise settles the storm inside me—if only for a fleeting moment.
Swallowing hard, I wipe at my tear-streaked face and take a careful step back, putting distance between us.
“This is just a job to you, isn’t it?” I ask, my breath steadying despite the emotions still churning inside me. “You work for Maks to pay off a debt.”
Pietro’s eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of something—hurt, maybe—crossing his face before he masks it with indifference. “My family’s debt is paid. Maksim is helping me with something more personal.”
Guilt knots in my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly, shame washing over me. “I didn’t know. I misspoke—I shouldn’t have pried.”
He grips my shoulder gently, reassuring. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.” A beat of hesitation passes before he adds, “He’s helping me find someone.”
“Who?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
His jaw tightens. “A childhood friend. She ran away… and you know where most runaways end up.” His voice is low, heavy with something haunted, something broken.
A chill settles over me. I know exactly what he means. Maksim doesn’t believe in selling flesh—he’s made that clear. And when he finds women who have been taken, he helps them. If Pietro’s friend is among them, it makes sense why he needs Maksim’s help.
“Thank you for explaining Pietro. I hope you find her,” I say quietly.
His gaze lingers on me before he gives a small nod and exits the room.
The door clicks shut behind him, and I stare at it, my heart twisting with a tangle of emotions I don’t fully understand.
