Page 103 of The Ruin I Chose

His jaw was tight. Eyes unreadable—like he’d swallowed something bitter and refused to spit it out.

“The boys are planning an impromptu bachelor’s party for Sahil. They want you to join.”

The voice was casual—Vihaan’s. Had he followed me all the way here?

Marcello spoke slowly, careful not to say anything that might set him off.

“I’m busy. I’m not really—” His voice faltered.

Vihaan pushed past him like he owned the damn place and entered the room. His eyes landed on me. I was sitting on Marcello’s bed, arms crossed, face unreadable.

His expression shifted—surprise, then something darker. Like a man remembering he’d let go of something he suddenly wanted back. Possessiveness. Rage. Jealousy, maybe. All the things he had no right to feel anymore.

We’d been officially separated for over two months, but ever since Marcello arrived, Vihaan’s attitude had twisted into a territorial overdrive.

“Well, what a surprise. What are you doing here? Don’t you have your own room?” He sneered. “Should I send in some strawberries?”

I refused to give him the drama he was hungry for.

“With champagne and a better attitude.” I didn’t blink.

He turned to Marcello, jaw tight.

“Busy with her… or doing her?”

The words hit like a slap. Crude. Calculated. Designed to wound. My stomach dropped. The room went still. Marcello moved fast—his hand gripped Vihaan’s collar. He spoke in a low, lethal voice.

“Don’t you ever speak about her like that.”

The room vibrated with a violence neither man was willing to unleash fully. Vihaan scoffed and yanked himself free.

“Ooh. Touchy.”

He looked at me once more, then stormed out.

I followed, my voice sharp, slicing through the tension.

“Vihaan. Wait.”

Marcello reached for me instinctively, but I stopped him with a look.

“Let me handle this.”

I ran after Vihaan into the garden that separated our rooms—lined with trees and flowering shrubs, benches tucked beneath the shade for guests to sit and pretend they weren’t watching. The scent of jasmine clung to the air.

Marcello was watching. His gaze burned between my shoulder blades—like he was bracing for heartbreak.

I could feel it. And I knew this would gut him. But if I had any future with him, I couldn’t let my past with Vihaan haunt us like a ghost.

Marcello’s presence had rewired Vihaan. Whether it was Kyra or me, he couldn’t hide his jealousy. I yanked his hand and grabbed his wrist before he could enter his room.

“Vihaan. Stop. Talk to me.”

My voice cracked—not because I wanted him back, but because endings were always messy.

“We’re done, Roxanne. What’s left to say?”

“Does it bother you? Seeing Marcello here. With me?” I needed to hear him say it.