Page 175 of Theirs to Ruin

Istood just outside her door, the faint muffled sounds of her sobs tearing through me. My hands clenched involuntarily, my nails biting into my palms. The tightness in my jaw mocked the hollowness in my chest. Every instinct in me screamed to rush into her bedroom so I could wrap my arms around her and pull her close. I longed to tell her that everything would be okay even when I knew it wouldn’t be.

But I couldn’t. I’d already let my guard down more than once. I couldn’t afford to do it again. Her voice, those nights she’d spoken of her mother with such fondness and love, echoed in my ears. I hated that she’d lost her, and even more, how thinking of her loss made me face my own. I longed for just one more moment with my mom, just as Camille undoubtedly wished for one more with hers.

The memory crashed into me with the force of a hurricane, flooding my senses and leaving me shaking.

Days after I’d broken up with Camille, the door to my parents’ villa on Lake Como had been ajar when I’d arrived. Panic had bubbled in my chest as I pushed it open, revealing asight that would haunt my dreams the rest of my life. My father and sister lay sprawled on the wooden floor, their lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. But it was the sight of my mother, propped weakly against the couch, that stopped my heart.

Her once vibrant face was pale, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. Her lips had taken on a bluish tint and foam had started to gather at the corners of her mouth.

Poison, my mind screamed as I rushed to her, my hands trembling, and knelt beside her. I cradled her in my arms. “Mama,” I choked out, my voice breaking.

Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of recognition before they clouded with pain. Her hand reached out weakly, fingers brushing against my cheek in a touch that was achingly gentle.

“Avenge us,” she rasped, each word a struggle. Her grip on my hand tightened momentarily, filled with a strength that belied her frail condition. Then, with one final shuddering breath, she went still. Her hand went limp in mine, and I was left alone, my world irrevocably shattered.

Outside Camille’s room, I gripped my chest as an unbearable pain left me struggling for breath and reaching for the wall to keep from falling. The weight of my mother’s final words pressed down on me, reminding me of the path I’d chosen. A path that had no room for distractions, no matter how tempting they were.

I had to get out of here. From the proximity to Camille.

Automatically, I lifted my hand and rubbed at my heart and the swan tattoo I’d gotten the day I’d broken up with her. The black swan was a reminder that if I didn’t stay away from her, I’d blacken her soul.

I had to harden my heart, to protect it and to protect her.

I touched the wall to her bedroom, as if I was soaking in her very essence, and then I walked away.

It was time to refocus. She was my past, and I had to keep my eyes firmly on my future and its sole purpose: revenge.

Chapter 73

Camille

When I woke the next morning, Kage's scent still lingered on the sheets. He’d obviously come home and joined me in my bed, and I’d slept through it all. I stretched my limbs, feeling tension in every fiber of my being.

On my nightstand, a folded piece of paper caught my attention. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I reached for it, recognizing Kage's neat handwriting.

Went out to grab breakfast for us. Back soon.

I placed the note back on my nightstand next to my phone.

I thought about calling Bianca. To confront her about whether she’d lied to me about why she’d broken up with Silas. But if she had lied, why wouldn’t she just lie again? It hurt, feeling this distance between us, and it was made so much worse by not knowing the reason.

I swung my legs over the edge of my bed. Pulling my robe on, my father's face floated into my consciousness. I couldn’t even trust him. Every action, every word from him was part of some larger game, a strategy. Growing up, I’d been a pawn in his world, and that hadn’t changed.

Had I been a pawn for Ava, as well? Had she just gotten close to me because she wanted something from me? I couldn’t forget that she was the one most likely to have stolen my gold bar. Maybe that had been her objective all along.

Bianca had once commented on the way Ava strategized, and her uncanny ability to improvise. “She’s like a goddamn chess player," Bianca had said, "Always five steps ahead.”

Ava’s actions toward me proved Bianca’s words true, and not just because of the gold she’d likely stolen from me. Ava had let me in then ruthlessly removed me from her life, as if I was a mere chess piece she chose to knock out of the game.

Everywhere I turned, I saw betrayal. Ava. Ty. Even Bianca. Was Kage or Dante next?

I felt cornered, isolated, and so damn tired. Suddenly, I couldn’t stand being in this house another second longer. I needed to get out of here.

I yanked open my closet and pulled out a faded pair of jeans. When I reached for a shirt, a sparkly tank top caught my eye. I’d bought it one day when Ava and I had gone shopping, and it reminded me of the top she’d been wearing the last time I’d seen her alive.

Before she’d left our apartment, after I’d said I trusted her, she’d looked wistful as she’d said, “You can’t trust anyone in the end. Youalwayshave to hide some part of yourself away…”

At the time, I'd taken it to mean hide yourselfemotionally. But what if she was referring to something else? What if she’d meantphysicalhiding places? We both had our little nooks and crannies in our apartment. I remembered the loose floorboard beneath her bed, the small crack in the ceiling, the way she would sometimes stare at the heating. What if she’d hidden part of herself somewhere in the apartment? A part of herself that might reveal what happened to her.

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