Page 141 of 10 Days to Ruin

I nod in grim satisfaction. In some ways, it’s a blessing that Dragan got away. Death is a mercy. This? A king stripped of crown, country, purpose? That’s poetic justice. Besides, his death will come soon enough. When it does, I’ll make sure I send him off in proper style.

I gaze at the Manhattan skyline. It’s been a long time in the making—fifteen agonizing years—but now, I’m so close to achieving everything I’ve ever wanted.

I set out to call it my city. Who can deny that that’s now exactly what it is? With the Serbs gutted and Leander’s ports under my control, just as soon as I put that ring on Ariel’s finger? It’s over. It’s finished.

I.

Fucking.

Win.

47

ARIEL

A fun thing about losing your mind is that you can make entertaining little games out of it, if you’re creative enough. For example, I’ve been trying to time the bouncing of my knee to the hammering of my heart since the moment I first came straight to Sasha’s penthouse and took a seat in the foyer. That stupid activity has kept me just barely on the right side of sane.

But I’m getting closer and closer to the tipping point. Every click of heels on tile makes my head snap up—a shitty Pavlovian response after three hours of false alarms. The security guard stopped making sympathetic eye contact around hour two.

Then he finally arrives.

Sasha bursts through the doors like a storm breaking. His tie is undone, sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms still speckled with… Is that blood or rust? Doesn’t matter. All that matters is the way his eyes lock onto me the second he steps into the atrium.

I’m on my feet before I decide to move.

He catches me mid-collapse, his hands bracketing my ribs as I slam into him. The scent of gunpowder and sea salt clings to his collar. “Ariel,” he murmurs into my hair, “what’s wrong?”

The dam breaks.

“They fired me.” The words come out mangled, my face pressed into his throat. “John said—he said I’m a liability now. That I’m your problem. And Gina and Lora quit and I—fuck, Iruinedthem?—”

“Shh.” He catches my tears with a kiss on each cheek. “Slow.”

But I can’t. It all spills out in a toxic geyser—the way John’s mouth twisted in a sneer, the pitying stares from colleagues as security followed me out, Lora’s shakyUp yours!as she handed over her press pass. “I spent years building that life,” I choke. “And now, it’s gone because I’m… because you’re…”

His grip tightens. “Because you’re mine.”

“Because I’m falling right into the exact thing I ran from.” I gulp. “I let myself get sucked back into this world. Let you—let myfather—turn me into some… something. The exact same thing that happened to Jasmine! And for what? A ring? A penthouse? What happens when you decide I’m not worth the trouble anymore?”

“I would never do that,” he growls.

“I know you say that, but how do Iknow?”I insist. “I didn’t want this! Any of it! Do you know how hard I worked to get away from people like you? To be normal?To have a life where my work mattered more than my last name? But I can’t even have that. It doesn’t matter how far I run—the past always catches up to me. Always.”

Sasha’s quiet for a minute. Then he’s steering me toward the elevators, his palm a brand between my shoulder blades. “Come.”

“I don’t want to go upstairs. I want?—”

“You want answers? You’ll get them. But not here.” The elevator dings open. He crowds me into the corner and stabs thePHbutton. “We do this where walls don’t have ears.”

The ascent feels endless. Sasha’s gaze never leaves mine. When we reach the top floor, he ushers me to the couch and sits me down, then kneels in front of me and holds my hands in his.

“You told me your mother used to tell you stories.”

I want to tear out my hair. “What does that have to do with anything I just said?”

“Hear me out,” he says. “You told me that, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Fine. Yes, she did. Again, I don’t see how?—”

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