Page 248 of Ruins
He showers while I soak in the bath, letting the warm water engulf me, easing the ache of his absence before he’s even gone. My gaze never strays from my husband. I watch as he shaves, as he effortlessly styles his hair, each movement practiced and confident.
In the mirror, his smirk finds me—lust-filled, knowing. He strides to me, leans in pressing a slow, teasing kiss to my lips before stepping away. I watch, admiring the ripple of muscle beneath his tattooed back, the way the towel hangs low on his hips, aperfecttemptation.
Reluctantly, I leave the comfort of the bath, wrapping myself in a towel as I pad toward the closet to get ready for my day with Elena, she’s effortlessly chic—I need to look like I belong at her side.
I slip into a navy blue button-down, the crisp fabric soft against my skin, tucking it loosely into my fitted black jeans. A pair of sleek, black-heeled loafers complete the look—simple, sophisticated, polished.
For makeup, I keep it subtle, adding just a swipe of gloss over my lip stain for a touch of shine. My hair, I sweep into a loose updo, making sure my delicate pearl earrings are visible, a soft contrast to the sharp lines of my outfit.
After last night, with Santo so tense, I want to make a good impression. I want Elena to see me as more than just his wife—I want her tolikeme.
I grab my purse and stride toward the door, ready to leave, but I barely make it two steps before stopping short. Santo stands in our sitting room, brows furrowed, a gun in his hand.
My gun.
“What is this?” he asks, his voice edged with both surprise and concern.
I blink, still trying to process. “A gun?”
“Yes, but why doyouhave it?”
“What?” I stammer, my brain scrambling.
He exhales, jaw tightening. “I found this in a box. In your window nook.” He lifts the box where I had tucked the gun Angelo had given me, his fingers resting against the lid. “Why do you have it?”
I hesitate, eyes flicking between the gun and his face.Think, Vasilisa.
“Oh. Why wereyouin my window nook?” I counter, trying to shift the focus away from me.
His gaze sharpens. “Vasilisa.”
I sigh, knowing I’ve lost this battle. “Angelo gave it to me,” I admit, stepping toward him as he slides the gun back into the box.
“Why would he give you a gun?” Santo asks, his expression stern, his grip tightening slightly around the box.
I shift under his gaze, feeling small but refusing to shrink. “He taught me how to use one,” I admit sheepishly. “Said it would be good for me to protect myself.”
Santo exhales sharply, shaking his head. He’s clearly not thrilled. “I’d feel safer if youdidn’thave one… but it’s not a bad idea.” He reaches for my hands, his thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles over my skin.
“You always have a gun around me, Santo,” I chuckle, nodding toward his waist where I know he keeps one concealed.
“True,” he concedes, his smirk soft but laced with something deeper. “But seeing one in your hands just feelswrong.” He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to my knuckles.
Then, suddenly, something clicks in his expression. His eyes narrow.
“Is that what you and Angelo have been doing this whole time?” His voice drops slightly, tinged with realization. “Learning how to use a gun?”
“Yes… that and sparring.” I hesitate, feeling heat creep up my cheeks. “Are you angry?”
His brows lift in mild surprise before he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I’m not angry, Vasilisa,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Just… surprised.”
“But why?” I press on refusing to let this drop. “Isn’t it better that I can protect myself? Especially given… well, your line of work.”
“That’s exactly what I don’t want you involved in,” Santo replies sharply, his eyes flaring with anger. “This ismyworld, Vasilisa, not yours. You should be far away from danger.”
“But I’m part of this world too, I was born into it,” I argue. “Whether we like it or not.”
