Page 13 of Ruined

"Evelyn Anderson," Jessica says, using the full-name tone she reserves for when she knows I'm lying.

I freeze. Noah's watching me intently, his hand still outstretched.

"I'm really fine, Jess," I say carefully. "No need to worry about me or... Aunt Martha's cookies."

Noah's eyes flash with understanding. He lunges forward, snatching the phone from my hand.

"Your sister is fine," he says coldly into the speaker. "She'll call you tomorrow."

He ends the call before Jessica can respond, his face a mask of controlled fury.

"That was stupid," he says, his voice dangerously soft. "Very, very stupid."

I snatch the phone from her hand, rage boiling under my skin. The code she slipped to Jessica – so fucking transparent. Did she really think I wouldn't catch that?

"You think I'm stupid?" My voice comes out low, dangerous. I grip the phone so tight my knuckles go white. "You think I don't know what you just did?"

Evelyn stares back, defiance blazing in those eyes. Same fire I've watched for months now, playing that violin like she's tearing her soul open. That fire that pulled me in from the first moment.

"What did you expect me to do? Thank you for kidnapping me?"

I lean closer, close enough to see the gold flecks in her brown eyes. "I expected you to be smarter."

Disappointment cuts deeper than I expected. Ten months. Ten fucking months I've watched her. I've seen how she reads rooms, notices details others miss. The way she slips between worlds – classical music halls one night, mafia parties the next – never losing her step.

"I know you, Evelyn." I hold her gaze, watching recognition flicker across her face. "Better than you think."

I hold her gaze for another moment before turning to look out the window. Matteo pulls up to my building—a modern high-rise with enough security to make Fort Knox jealous. Perfect place to keep something valuable. Or someone.

"We're here." I unlock the door and step out, circling around to Evelyn's side. Her face is a mask of fury and fear when I open her door. "You gonna walk in yourself, or do I need to carry you again?"

She glares daggers at me, those blue eyes electric with hate. "Don't you dare touch me."

"Your choice." I step back, giving her space to exit. "But if you try anything I won't be gentle this time."

Evelyn slides out of the car, clutching her violin case to her chest like a shield. It's the only thing of value she has left now.

"Welcome home," I say, watching her take in the building. It's not what most people expect—glass and steel, legitimate on paper. No bodies buried in the foundation. At least none I put there.

"This isn't my home," she snaps, her voice steady despite everything. "This is a prison."

I shrug. "Call it whatever you want. You're staying."

Matteo leans against his car, amusement dancing in his eyes. "You two are adorable. Like watching a cat try to pet a porcupine."

"Fuck off," I tell him without heat. He's the closest thing I have to a friend, but that doesn't mean I won't put him in his place.

"I'll call you later," Matteo says, pushing off the car. He nods toward Evelyn, then looks back at me with a smirk. "Try not to kill each other before morning."

"No promises," I mutter.

Matteo laughs, sliding into his car. "Good luck, violinist. You're gonna need it with this one."

Before Evelyn can respond he's pulling away, tires squealing slightly against the pavement.

I place my hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the entrance. She flinches but doesn't pull away—progress.

"Touch me again and I'll break your fingers," she hisses.

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