Page 119 of The Rules
He stared at the file she’d left, its weight anchoring his hands. That name. That company.That case.All of it back in front of him like the universe had dragged it from the depths just to see if he would flinch.
And she had no idea.
She didn’t do it to hurt him. She wasn’t playing games.
She was fighting.
Digging.
Where he’d given up, she had kept clawing.
And she brought it to him—not because she knew what it was tohim, but because she believed he was the one who wouldcare. Who would help. Who might still give a damn.
Ben leaned back slowly, the air thin in his lungs. His throat felt raw. Not from anger—but from that old, familiar ache of something broken.
The case that cracked him open—was the same one that lit her fuse.
She didn’t know she’d handed him the very bullet he’d swallowed all those years ago.
But now? Now it was back in his hands—cold, loaded, waiting.
And for the first time in a long time—Benjamin Sinclair didn’t know if he’d pull the trigger.
Chapter 30
Katherine
The club thrums like a living thing—music pulsing, lights flickering, dancers moving like smoke. But Kath barely feels it. The rhythm that once set her blood on fire now barely reaches her skin.
She moves on autopilot. The dressing room, the change of clothes, the ritual she once worshipped—now hollow, mechanical. Like someone performing a sacred dance who's forgotten why it mattered.
She used tolovethis. The transformation. The power. Watching Katherine Winters disappear, layer by layer—until only Blondie remained. Blondie didn't care. Blondieruled.
And no one could touch her.
But now? Now the glitter feels like a lie. The red lips, the smoky eyes—they don't shield her anymore. They just reflect a girl trying too hard to forget something she shouldn't feel at all.
Kath stares at her reflection as she draws on the liner. Watches her own hands like they belong to someone else.
The face in the mirror is flawless. But her chest? It's a war zone. Tight, aching, pulled too tight over something raw.
She hates that she's thinking about him.Still. Every time her thoughts drift to Benjamin, her stomach knots like she's bracing for a hit.
And yet— Here she is. Still haunted by the ghost of a man who touched her skin… But never reached her. Because he never touchedKath.Only Blondie.
And that? That’s on her.
She never let him see the real thing. Never gave him anything realto touch.
She kept the walls high, the mask tighter, the rules clearer than glass. Seduce, distract, deflect—never reveal.
It wasn’t him who failed her. It was her. She never gave him the chance to wantherat all.
She leans in toward the mirror, adjusting a false lash with the practiced calm of a woman holding back a scream. The image staring back is flawless.
Bright lips. Dark lashes. Sculpted cheekbones. The perfect illusion.
And tonight? She hates it.
