Page 70 of Ruin My Life
Theyknowwho I am.
Panic twists in my gut. I try to shake him off, but his fingers only tighten, bruising my skin. Pain blooms under his grip—sharp and immediate, like his nails are blades that he’s already dug deep into my arm.
“I told your boss I couldn’t get the info she wanted,” I snap. “The deal is off.”
He says nothing—just starts dragging me back toward the bar. I don’t fight. Not yet. Not in front of all these people.
He knows this place as much as it knows him. No one even looks twice as he pulls me forcefully away from the lounge.
He sets the broken glass on the bar top with care, like he’s doing me a favour. Then turns back to me, eyes hard as ice.
“You really think we don’t know what happened?” he murmurs.
My chest tightens.
Did Damon give me up?
No. No, he wouldn’t. If he knew who was behind this, he would’ve killed them.Wouldn’t he?
A sick thought creeps in like smoke through a vent.
Maybe Damondoesknow.
Maybe he’s planned this himself. Maybe he’s watching right now.
The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold-plated switchblade—ornate, almost theatrical. It looks absurd in his massive hand, more like a toy than a weapon,but when he triggers the release with a sharp click, the blade snaps out with deadly precision.
I flinch before I can stop myself.
He yanks me closer by the arm, and the cold steel kisses the soft skin just below my ribs.
“It’s time to be a good little hacker,” he murmurs, his words almost as sharp as his blade. “I’ve got a computer waiting for you upstairs. You’re going to get the boss everything she wants.”
The knife digs in—just enough to break skin. Just enough to make a point.
I relent, letting him steer me toward the elevators, my heels barely catching the carpet.
Whoisthis guy?
No one even flinches as he hauls me across the room like a ragdoll. Security doesn’t glance our way. Not a single patron lifts their eyes.
He’s too familiar, and they’re too comfortable.
This man has power here.
And if he’s working with the Songbirds? That makes two layers of hell I can’t afford to descend into.
But what Idon’tunderstand is how they knew I’d be here.
Did they track my phone? Did someone tail me from my apartment? And if they could’ve grabbed me at any time, why wait until now? Why leave so many witnesses, loyal or not?
The elevator dings and we step inside. His knife stays at my back—low, angled upward. His body heat wraps around me, thick and suffocating. It seeps into my skin like oil. Nothing about it feels human.
“This would be easier on my own laptop,” I mutter, trying to sound unaffected by him. “If you want the job done right.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “You had your chance to do it your way,” he says, lifting my hair with his free hand. His nose skims the side of my neck as he breathes me in like a fucking animal. “Now, we’re doing this my way.”
I tilt my head away from him, trying to get out of his reach. “It’ll take time. Probably more than you think.”
