Page 31 of The Ruin I Chose

She smiled. “Dinner first. Then transactions.”

She spoke about Paris. About how I never called. About unfinished business. I barely responded. Before leaving, she leaned in and kissed my cheek. I didn’t expect it.

And then I saw Roxanne walking towards us, her face pale. I prayed she hadn’t seen it. The kiss. The hand. The way I didn’t push her away. But I knew that look in Roxanne’s eyes. She’d seen everything. And I’d let her down. Again.

I led her to the car, sitting in silence in the back of the limo. Then she spoke, softly, almost guarded, asking if she could leave for Sicily. It caught me off guard.

My phone buzzed, and I simply replied, Fine. Isabella had sent the location for the rendezvous. I nodded distractedly at Roxanne’s question while reading, only realising what I’d just agreed to when it was already too late.

I hated that I’d chosen ego over her. That I’d let her think she was disposable. That I’d let her walk away without fighting for her. Because I was too busy chasing a fucking necklace.

Isabella was shrewd. She wouldn’t give me what I wanted without asking something in return. I half knew this was going to be a long night. So, I answered Roxanne coldly. Hoping she wouldn’t press. Hoping I could still surprise her.

I messaged Martin,

I dropped her off at the palazzo. She didn’t say much and neither did I. Then I left for my transactional dinner with Isabella.

The rooftop restaurant was designed for seduction—candlelight, panoramic views, soft jazz humming in the background. She had changed into a black dress with a plunging neckline, diamonds at her throat, and that same smug smile she’d always worn.

“Still brooding, I see,” she said, sipping her wine. “You haven’t changed.”

“I can’t say the same for you,” I replied.

I ordered my whiskey and gulped it in one go.

“I’m here. Hand over the necklace—I’ll wire the amount.”

She laughed. “You’re no fun tonight.”

“Stop stalling. Give me the necklace.”

I wanted to get it over with. The sooner I had the necklace, the sooner I could get back to Roxanne. The sooner I could be buried in her.

But Isabella dragged dinner out. Dessert. Espresso. Then she insisted we go to the casino.

“I want to play,” she said, looping her arm through mine.

“Like old times.”

We played blackjack. She leaned in too close. Her perfume was heavy, almost suffocating.

“Don’t,” I said, sharp, not wanting her to touch me.

I didn’t understand why I couldn’t stand her anymore. She was everything I used to want—on paper. But now she felt like a parody. Like a mask I used to wear when I didn’t know who I was. Her perfume made me gag. Her voice made my skin crawl. The way she touched me—everything felt repulsive. I wanted to scrub her off me. Her voice. Her perfume. Her touch. She felt like a version of myself I’d buried. And I hated that I’d resurrected him just to chase a necklace.

She kept pressing.

“Why do you want the necklace so badly?” she asked, eyes sharp.

“I don’t need to explain myself.”

Especially not to someone like her, who once weaponised my weaknesses.

“So, a new woman?” she smiled with an eyebrow raised.

I didn’t answer.

She tilted her head.