Page 102 of The Ruin I Chose

“Just sit with me. Please. I promise I’ll try to keep my hands to myself.”

I hesitated. But I wanted to be near him just as much.

I scrubbed off the mehendi in his bathroom.

“That smell is pungent.”

“It’s tradition,” I explained, laughing as I sat on his bed.

“Henna—or mehendi—is part of Indian wedding rituals. It signifies love, prosperity, and protection. The darker the stain, the deeper the love.”

He looked at me curiously.

“It’s also believed that the longer it lasts, the stronger the bond. Brides hide their groom’s initials or names in the design. It’s playful and intimate.”

He sat beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

“And you said you’d try to keep your hands to yourself.”

“A man can only control himself so much,” he winked.

“So… Did you hide my name in there?”

“Why don’t you try finding it?” I teased.

He studied my hand. I studied his face. I’d missed him—his eyes, his lips, his stubble. The vein on his neck. The tension in his jaw. He looked older. Worn. Like he’d fought storms I hadn’t even seen.

“You look older since I saw you last.” I chuckled.

“I know. This whole cat-and-mouse chase with you and that figlio di puttana… maybe I’ve aged a few years.”

I laced my fingers through his and spoke, serious now.

“Promise me you’ll get him. End this. I don’t want to live in fear.”

He cupped my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones like I was breakable, but worth holding anyway. I leaned into him, into his warmth. His gaze softened, but beneath it burned a fire—not just revenge, but devotion sharpened into fury. It ignited something primal. A vow. A promise to destroy anything that dared touch me.

“I’ll burn the world if it would keep you safe. Per te… la mia metà.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you when the time comes,” he said, brushing my cheek with his fingers.

We stared at each other—his breath steady, mine shallow. The heat of his body, the scent of him, wrapped around me like a promise I wasn’t ready to break. But my body reacted before my mind could compose itself.

I leaned forward and our lips almost touched—

Then came a knock on the door. One more second and I’d have ruined every defence I pretended to have. Marcello groaned.

“Scimunitu!”

Even the universe wanted us unfinished.

CHAPTER 39

ROXANNE

Marcello opened the door.