Page 49 of Ruin My Life
Because maybe I do.
Not for what she’s done—but forwhyshe’s doing it.
She’s breaking every rule for answers. For revenge. And somehow, she’s still standing.
I know what it costs to hold that kind of fire and not let it consume you.
“She’s more dangerous than we thought,” I say. “Not because she’s reckless—but because she’s willing to sacrifice everything to finish what she started. Whoever hired her? That’s who we need to focus on.”
Lee nods and drags a hand over the back of his neck. “If I can get access to her personal network, I might be able to trace whoever she’s been talking to. But it’d be a hell of a lot easier if I had the actual device she used.”
I glance at Monroe. “Up for another trip to her apartment?”
He just shrugs. “Should be easier the second time.”
Lee rises from his chair, his joints cracking like gunshots in the quiet room. He groans under his breath but tries not to make it obvious. “I’ll go with him,” he says. “Make sure we get what we need.”
I smirk. “You sure your joints can survive the walk to the car?”
Lee flips me off lazily as he stretches.
He and I are closest in age—twenty-six and twenty-seven respectively—but you’d never guess it looking at us side by side.
Monroe’s the oldest, Connor just behind him, and Chavez is still the youngest in the crew. But Lee’s got the worst physical stamina of us all.
Poor desk posture. Chronic caffeine dependence. He also only joins us in the gym once a week, if we’re lucky.
Still, I’d trust his brain over any weapon.
And right now, that brain is our best shot at figuring out what the hell we’re up against.
“She’s got serious security, no doubt,” Lee says. “I’ll have a better shot at cracking through it on-site.”
I nod, the plan forming faster than I can speak it. “All right. I’ll stay here. Hold the night shift while you two are gone.”
They move toward the door, Monroe already grabbing gear from the lockers in the hall. But Lee pauses, half-turned back toward me.
“What’s the plan once we find out who hired her?”
I lean against the desk, fingers drumming a slow, steady rhythm against the wood.
The answer should come easily. But it doesn’t.
Because the truth is… I still don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with her.
Brianna Rosenberg knows too much. She’s pulled apart layers of my operation that no one outside my inner circle should even know exists. If she ever decided to open her mouth, even once, the fallout wouldn’t be small.
Everything I’ve built—King’s Eye, The Speakeasy, the safety net we’ve wrapped around this part of Brooklyn—gone.
With everything she took, I also have no doubt that she knows more about me now than my entire inner circle.
One wrong whisper, and it all burns.
She’s a risk I should’ve put down the moment I found her.
But I didn’t. And I know I won’t.
My jaw tightens as I drag a hand down my face, trying to clear the fog. But instead of clarity, I catch something soft—unexpected.
