Page 58 of Lords of Ruin: Savage

Willow doesn’t flinch, doesn’t show a flicker of surprise. I can see she’s already processing the information, weighing its implications. The girl—Ricardo’s daughter—has been working him, slowly making him comfortable enough for him to feed her information. That explains how she has stayed one step ahead of the cartel and me.

“Well done,” I say, my voice low but laced with satisfaction. “Now we know. Thank you, Tomas.”

The words sound like an afterthought, but they’re enough. Willow steps forward, her face devoid of emotion as she meets Tomas’s gaze one last time. Her hand tightens on the handle of the blade in her grasp, and I feel a thrill of anticipation building in the air between us. This is where we end it.

Willow’s movements are deliberate, controlled. She doesn’t hesitate. Tomas’s eyes dart from the blade to her, his desperation palpable now. “No… please,” he croaks, his voice breaking. “I... I told you everything. Please... just let me go...”

“Isn’t that exactly what those little girls said to you?” She snarls.

Tomas' eyes widen like he knows what's happening next.

Without another word, Willow leans in, pressing the blade against Tomas’s throat with precision, her grip steady as she makes the final cut. It’s quick. Clean. Final.

Tomas’s life spills out in an instant, and I feel the shift in the room as he dies. The silence after his last breath is almost serene, as if the world itself acknowledges the justice that has been delivered.

Willow stands there for a moment, watching him, her chest rising and falling slowly, the calm aftermath settling over her. Her face is unreadable, but I know what I see in her eyes. She’s not the same person who walked in here.

I walk over to her, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “You did well,” I tell her, my voice low, but laced with approval. “You did exactly what was needed.” The words carry weight, but they’re also a reward, a subtle acknowledgment that she has earned my respect.

Willow doesn’t smile back, but there’s a glint in her eyes. She’s no longer questioning herself. She’s become something else.

Something darker.

And I’m proud of her.

She looks at me then, her eyes locking onto mine with a fire I hadn’t seen before. There’s a conviction there now—something more than just a pupil looking to learn. There’s a sinister vibe. And I don’t need to ask her to confirm it. I can feel it in the way she stands, in the tension that’s simmering between us.

I reach up, brushing a strand of her hair back from her face, letting my fingers linger just a moment too long on her skin. The air feels thick now, charged with a different kind of energy, a kind that makes my pulse quicken.

“You didn’t flinch. You didn’t hesitate. You did it,” I murmur, my voice now soft but filled with a pride that only comes with seeing someone rise to the occasion.

Her breath hitches slightly, and I notice how her lips part ever so slightly, like she’s trying to contain the raw and unspoken transformation. It pulls me in, closer.

I step into her space, my hand moving from her cheek to the back of her neck. Her eyes flicker down to my lips, and I see the hesitation, the question in her gaze. She knows what I’m offering, and for a moment, I let the silence stretch between us.

I lean in slowly, my lips brushing against her ear, my voice a soft whisper. “You’ve become a prodigy, Willow. And I’m proud of you. You’re mine now.”

The words hang in the air between us, thick with meaning. She doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t stop me. Instead, she tilts her head slightly, her eyes closing as she brings her face closer to mine.

The kiss comes unexpectedly, but it’s what I want. Her lips are soft, but the moment they meet mine, everything shifts. I feel her body tense, her breath catches in her throat, but she doesn’tpush me away. Instead, she gives in, letting the kiss deepen as her hands find their way to my chest, pulling me closer.

“My murderous Cariña,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

Her eyes flutter open, and I see the hunger in them, the need that matches my own. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. The way she looks at me is enough.

I move my hands to her waist, pulling her closer until our bodies are pressed together. She’s warm, her body fitting perfectly against mine. I can feel her heart racing, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Are you ready?” I ask, my voice low and rough with desire.

She nods, her eyes never leaving mine. “Yes.”

I take her hand, leading her further into the room, towards the center where the cold, lifeless body of Tomas lies slump in his chair. The sight of him doesn’t faze her. If anything, it seems to fuel her desire, her need.

I push her gently against the wall, my hands roaming over her body, exploring every curve, every inch of her. She gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders as she arches into my touch.

“You’re as dark as I am, Cariña,” I growl, my mouth moving to her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. She moans softly, her hands tangling in my hair as she pulls me closer. “You’re going to fuck me right next to your fresh kill, baby?”

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need.

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