Page 1 of Ravaged and Ruined
Prologue
Aero
The prison gates groan as they slide open, the sound of metal grinding against metal digging into my skull like a rusted blade. My first breath of free air is thick with the midday heat but I inhale it, savoring the burn of it in my lungs as I step into a world beyond the steel and concrete cage I’m leaving behind. I roll my shoulders, trying to shake off the weight I carried inside, but the past clings to me like the stench of a raw deal.
When the gate closes behind me with a heavy clank, the vibration rattles deep in my bones. A jolt of restless energy pushes my feet forward, propelling me away from the walls that have caged me in for the last four years. Away from the past that landed me here. Away from the man I used to be and I don’t ever want to look back.
I keep walking, my steps hurried even though I have no destination. The air outside smells different, like hot asphalt, exhaust fumes, and the faintest hint of pine from the thin line of trees scattered along the pavement. Everything about it feelsforeign and now, somehow, I have to figure out where the hell I fit in it.
Beyond the pavement, a two-lane road stretches ahead, alive with movement. Buses, trucks, and cars heading in both directions. To the right, a parking lot sprawls out along the outer perimeter of the gates. There are rows of rusted-out Chevys and battered Fords mixed in with a few newer models, likely belonging to the guards and lawyers. Other released inmates mill around, some reuniting with family, old ladies, kids who barely recognize them. Voices rise in excited bursts of laughter, curses, and promises. Others look around as lost as I am. It feels almost unreal to stand here, gazing back at the gate, the yard, and the windows lined with bars.
Not because I don’t belong out here but because it feels wrong. There’s no relief. No weight lifting from my shoulders. Just an empty space. No one waiting for me. At least, not anyone I want waiting.
Sofia Ricci leans against a sleek black car like she fucking owns the world. Her red lips are curved into a smirk, and dark sunglasses are hiding eyes I once got lost in. The sun catches the deep auburn strands in her hair, setting them ablaze like the fire she’s always been. She’s beautiful, unpredictable, and capable of burning everything in her path. She’s wearing a white sundress that clings to her curves like sin itself, and on anyone else, it might look innocent but on her it’s a reminder of how easily she can play the angel when she’s anything but.
My gut tightens. Of all the people in the world, she’s the last one I want to see. I adjust my stance, squaring my shoulders, locking down every emotion threatening to surface. Four years inside has a way of sharpening a man, of teaching him how to bury shit deep where no one can touch it. And right now, looking at her, I remind myself that whatever I used to feel for Sofia Ricci is dead and gone.
She pushes off the car, walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps, the click of her heels against the pavement like a countdown to disaster.
“Stone.” My name slides off her tongue like she owns the rights to it.
I exhale sharply through my nose, my fists clench at my sides. “What the fuck are you doing here, Sof?”
“That’s all I get?” She presses a hand against her chest, feigning hurt. “No bella, no tesoro, no ‘Sof, I’ve missed you so much’?”
She steps closer, her perfume hitting me like a wave, dragging me under, back to late nights and whispered promises, back to the way she used to look at me like I was the only man who ever mattered.
I shake it off. “Why are you here?”
“Because I care, Stone.” She sighs, a dramatic little thing that used to work on me. “And because I missed you.”
She lifts a manicured hand, tracing the ink on my forearm that wasn't there before I went inside. I grab her wrist before she can get any further, squeezing just hard enough to make my point.
“You’re the reason I got locked up.” My voice is low, but the rage simmers just beneath the surface.
She doesn’t flinch. If anything, her lips curl into a dangerous smile. “That’s not fair, Tesoro.”
I let out a sharp breath. “Don’t call me that.”
Sofia tilts her head, studying me like she’s trying to decide whether to keep playing this game or show her real hand. Then, she laughs, the sound rich and smooth, dripping with something poisonous.
“You think that’s on me?” She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “No, tesoro, that was you.”
I step back, dropping her wrist like it burns. “You set me up.”
She presses a hand to her chest, mock offense all over her face. “I didn’t make you kill him, Aero. That was all you.”
My jaw locks. My vision tunnels. The air crackles between us, charged with memories I’d rather forget.
The bar. The flashing neon lights. The heat of anger pumping through my veins. That motherfucker’s hands on her. The way he grinned at me, taunted me like he had something that belonged to me. And Sofia, whispering in my ear, feeding the fire that was already burning out of control. I was already on edge, already pissed off, and she knew exactly how to push me over. One wrong move, one second too long staring at her lips as she leaned in close, and I lost it.
One punch turned into two. My knuckles splitting open against his face, the sickening sound of bone meeting bone echoing in my ears. Two turned into three, then four, followed by the final, brutalcrackwhen his head struck the concrete floor. Blood pooling around my boots.
The memory claws at me, but I shove it back where it belongs. In the past. Buried deep.
I clench my fists. “You fed that fire.”
She shrugs, completely unbothered. “I only gave you a little push.”
