Page 58 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

Ivory turned and walked the opposite way, sucking in a deep breath of ice-cold air. But soon the smile faded and tears resurfaced, hot and sticky on her cheeks. Her vision blurred with every step, the wind snapping at her face as she blindly navigated away from the crowds.

How pathetic. Jace was a jerk, the lowest of low. Yet he’d still gotten to her. He’d gotten to Adrian.

Little shudders from her chest grew into uneven gasps, and once she was alone, the brave exterior crumbled. She bent over and braced her hands on her knees, hating Jace and hating how he’d treated her like he could do whatever he wanted because she’d let him. Because he thought she was weak.

Maybe he was right. She certainly didn’t feel strong.

His words replayed over and over, reminders of that awful night like a dark stain in her memory. And worse, the image of Adrian’s blood seeping into the snow.

Nia and Caspian would never go out of their way to start trouble, and even if they did, they wouldn’t send Adrian on their behalf. This only made sense if Jace made up a story to tell Serena, and his real goal had been to prove he could get anything he wanted—even her.

She ripped off her gloves and fumbled in her pocket for her phone, needing to see if Adrian had tried to contact her.

No notifications.

She hiccupped, fingers shaking as she navigated to his number. If she could only hear his voice. Just one word. Even if something bad had happened, she’d know it would all be okay if he picked up the phone.

The moment she dialed, the phone shut off. Her fist nearly crushed the useless device. Now was not the time for this! She pressed the power button harder, and the charge symbol appeared. The cold must have drained her battery.

Great. Flipping fantastic.

She swallowed, unable to break the lump in her throat. Then again, she had no reason to panic. The story could’ve been made up to scare her. Adrian wouldn’t go down without a fight. Jace couldn’t have beat him up and walked away with only a chipped tooth and some scratches…right?

Wrong. Jace would never fight fair, and Serena might be easily swayed, but she wasn’t a straight-up liar.

She needed to see him. Now.

Where was he? Work? Class? She couldn’t remember his schedule. What if he ended up in the hospital? She wiped her eyes and stood up straight. Glancing around, she spun in a circle as a pit formed in her gut. Nothing looked familiar.

Snow blew in every direction. Tall buildings in the distance became barely distinguishable, and a flat patch of land sprawled just ahead. Everything looked white except for a menacing iron gate that enclosed whatever was across the street.

Freezing and lost—what could she really do like this? She couldn’t help anyone. There was no point in pretending she could make a difference. Something terrible had happened, and it was all her fault.

Her heart fell and then shattered into a million bleeding shards. If Adrian had been hurt, he wouldn’t want to talk to her.

The storm blew her sideways with snow and ice, but she couldn’t go back. She forced her legs to move, carrying her away from where she’d come. Away from her comfy dorm, away from the threat of Jace, and away from everyone she’d only disappoint in the end.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Damn weather was cold as balls.

At midday, the sun should be bright overhead, but outside looked dark enough to be evening. He couldn't shake the constant chill even with a hoodie under his jacket. Large white flakes plummeted sideways before the wind swirled them up and blew them right back in his face.

How had he stood outside to smoke for the past five years without a care? How had he accepted being so numb?

Adrian rolled the last cigarette around his tongue—unlit—and looked down at a snow-covered grave. His father’s headstone was newer than most, but it blended in all the same. A forgotten tick in an endless parade of departed souls.

On the other side of the cemetery, towering stone mausoleums and proper headstones rose from the barren field. Here, however, there were only small rectangles laid flat with the earth, some with engravings so worn they could hardly be made out.

He flexed his hand against the cold, mostly healed from the fight and marred by a few additional scars. Vera kicked him out of the salon as soon as she spotted his black eye. Apparently, customers didn’t want to see an ugly stylist—but he knew she only wanted to look out for him, and his body needed the days off to heal.

In the end, he decided to get most of his classwork done from the apartment and hadn’t left in a couple of days. Today, he woke up restless, and although this storm was brutal, a visit to the cemetery was long overdue.

Now that he’d obtained the right information, he didn’t know what to do with it.

The way Jace talked about the ring...it sounded like an heirloom. Meaning that the ring meant more than a tie to the killer; it represented the Yu family itself. That shooting hadn’t been a hit by the Dragons. It had been an assassination.

Family versus family, blood versus blood.

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