Page 200 of Ruin My Life
“Shut up and drink your cat-shit bean water.”
The kitcheneruptsin laughter.
Even Monroe chuckles behind his paper, wiping a rare tear from the corner of his eye.
It’s chaotic. It’s loud. And for a fleeting moment—
It’snormal.
Brie fits in like she’s always belonged here. Like she’s the missing puzzle piece none of us realized we were waiting for—until she snapped right into place.
And as I watch her smirk across the rim of her mug, my chest tightens.
This moment—this stillness, this laughter, this stolen peace—feels like the universe’s way of reminding me exactly what I stand to lose today.
Because in a few hours, I’m walking straight into a lion’s den.
And there’s no promise I’ll walk back out.
I called Matthias last night to schedule the meeting. He agreed too quickly. Like he’d been waiting for my call all along.
I told Brie there’s nothing to worry about. That it’s just a conversation between two men who’ve both bled for this city. But the truth is… I don’t know how it’s going to go.
In a perfect world, we’d sit down like gentlemen. Exchange reasonings. Offer apologies. Maybe even shake hands and part ways with a mutual understanding.
But this isn’t a perfect world.
This is New York.
Where fairy tales only ever end in fire and blood.
After breakfast, it’s time to put our plans in motion.
Lee and Brie set up at the island, brushing off the coffee debacle like old colleagues who’ve spent years bickering over machine specs and encrypted code. Their laptops sit side by side, screens already alive with data and lines of script. She’s faster. He’s more methodical. Together, they work like a matched pair of blades.
Monroe and Chavez, by contrast, are silent and sharp as they suit up. Pistols holstered at their hips. Extra mags snapped in place. Knives strapped to their calves. There’s a quiet rhythm to it—like soldiers readying for war.
I slide my own gun into the holster on my hip and tighten the strap. The weight grounds me. Reminds me who I am.
Then I round the island.
Brie looks up the second she senses me. Her fingers still on the keys. Even Lee pauses, sensing the shift in the room.
“Do what you do best,mi rosa,” I say softly, for her alone. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you find when I get back.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows.
She nods. “I’ll make sure it’s something worth coming back for,” she whispers—then adds, quieter, sharper: “So make sure you docome back.”
“I will.”
I tip her chin up with two fingers and kiss her—slow and certain, giving not a single fuck that everyone is watching. Not Connor. Not Monroe. Not Lee.
Let them see it.
Let them know she’smine.
“Por ti, mi amor, no te fallaré. Nuestro tiempo juntos ha sido demasiado corto para que termine ahora.”
