Page 71 of Lords of Ruin: Owned

Finally, he lifts his eyes to meet mine. His stare is cold—calculating—and I feel it hit me like a punch to the stomach. There’s no warmth, no softness, just an icy fury that makes me want to shrink back, but I can’t. I won’t.

“What’s there to talk about, Willow?” His voice is low, clipped.

I blink, caught off guard by his tone. “You’ve been avoiding me. I don’t understand why.”

He leans back in his chair, eyes narrowing, lips twisting into a bitter smirk. “You don’t? Well, let me break it down for you.”

I freeze, my stomach dropping. He stands, his height making me feel small as he steps closer. His presence is overpowering, and I want to run, but I stay rooted to the spot.

“You ruined my life,” he spits, each word punctuated with a growing intensity that makes my pulse race. “My mother saw you and all your innocence and instead of going through anotherround of chemo she gave you her heart, Willow. And now I’m an orphan. I’m alone, and you—you get to keep living like nothing happened. Like you didn’t destroy everything by just being you.”

The words hit me like a slap, and my chest tightens. I want to argue, to tell him it wasn’t like that, but his anger is a storm that’s too strong to fight against.

I open my mouth, but the words get stuck in my throat. “I didn’t—” I start, my voice shaking.

Damien’s eyes flash with rage. “Don’t play innocent. You know exactly what you did. You took everything from me, and now you think you can just act like we’re fine? Like I’m supposed to just forgive you?”

I feel like I’m suffocating, the weight of his words pressing down on me until I can barely breathe. I don’t know how to respond. I never wanted this. I never wanted any of it.

“You think I’m supposed to just move on, huh?” His voice rises, his fists clenching at his sides. “Well, I haven’t. I loved her. And you don’t get to just erase that, Willow.”

Tears burn at the back of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not now.

“I didn’t mean to—” I whisper, my voice barely audible, but he cuts me off.

“You took her from me,” he snaps. “And now I have to live with that every day. While you… you get to pretend everything’s okay. You think you can fix it with a smile? You think you can just—just—fix everything?”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to make him understand that I never wanted this, that I would give anything to change it, to give him back his mother.

But I can’t. I can’t fix this.

“You don’t know anything about me,” I manage to choke out, my hands trembling.

Damien glares at me, his lips curling into a cold sneer. “No. But I know this. You took everything, Willow. And I don’t owe you anything. Not now, not ever.”

His words hit me like a physical blow. He turns away, walking toward the exit without a second glance. The finality of his dismissal cuts deeper than anything.

I stand there, frozen, trying to process what just happened, trying to breathe through the sudden tightness in my chest. But the room feels too small. The air too thick.

Tears fall without warning, streaking down my face as I turn and run. I don’t care who sees, who hears. I just need to get out of here.

The tears come faster now, too fast to stop, as I dart out of the library, my chest tight with every sob. I don’t care that people are staring. I don’t care that they hear me. I just need to escape, to get away from the weight of Damien’s words. They echo in my head—his anger, his bitterness, the accusation that I ruined his life.

I’m barely a few feet from the door when I bump into someone.

"Willow?"

I look up, wiping my face with the back of my hand, and see Vincent standing there, his brow furrowed in concern. His gentle eyes, always so full of care, soften as he takes in the sight of me—a mess of tears and pain.

“What happened? What’s going on?”

I shake my head, trying to get my breath under control. But the words spill out before I can stop them.

“Damien... he... he said I ruined his life. That I took his mother’s heart, and now I’ve left him an orphan. He said... he said I don’t get to fix it. I don’t get to fix him. He hates me, Vincent. And I don’t know what to do. I just...” My voice cracks, and the tears start again, unstoppable.

Vincent’s expression hardens, his jaw tightening. But he doesn’t say anything for a moment. He just looks at me with such intensity, like he’s trying to decide something. Then, with a sharp exhale, he nods.

“Give me a minute, Willow. Just... stay here.”

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