Page 45 of The Ruin I Chose

She tilted her head, looking at me. Waiting. I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. Antonio and my mother stood.

“We’ll leave you two to talk,” she said, squeezing my shoulder.

Translation: Don’t fuck this up.

I motioned for Roxanne to sit beside me. She did—curling her legs onto the sofa, pulling a blanket over them, facing me. She took a sip of her wine, eyes fixed on the fire as it crackled.

“Isabella had a way of appearing when the lights dimmed, and the stakes were high,” I began.

My voice felt heavier than I expected—it had been years since I said her name out loud.

“We met at an auction in Paris two years ago—she wore her smile like armour and walked like she already knew my secrets. She lured me in. Seduction wasn’t the game—it was the weapon. We had an affair. Brief. Intense. I thought I was the one in control.

Until I found out she was with Lorenzo.”

She sat listening, silent. Still.

I continued. “Lorenzo had been like an uncle to me once. He married my mother’s best friend—Octavia. A woman with grace and grit, who deserved more than he ever gave her. He treated her like furniture—something to warm the bed and serve hot dinners.

“He never saw her mind. Never saw her worth. She came to me a couple of times—busted lip, a bruise here and there. Lorenzo always told me not to interfere in family matters. After all, I was just a boy.”

I scoffed. Because I wasn’t a boy then. And I still did nothing. I still let her die. I dragged my hand over my face.

“My aunt couldn’t take the torture. Couldn’t take being passed on to his partners like a trophy. She ended it—her life.”

Roxanne gasped, hand over her mouth, tears beginning to form in her eyes. And I hated that I was the one who put them there.

“Lorenzo got the Mexicans in as clients. Little did we know he started his own side business with them—drifted from arms to drugs, then trafficking children. Little girls, boys as young as seven. He corrupted everything he touched. We knew he orchestrated my father’s death—indirectly, quietly. But we couldn’t prove it.

I built the empire after my father died. Arms. Counterfeit art. Beauty and danger—sold in silence.

“Lorenzo didn’t just want our businesses. He wanted power. But he didn’t come for the business first. He came for Elaine. She was my only weakness. And he knew it.

That’s why I never let anyone in. Not until…”

My throat closed around the words. I let the words hang. Roxanne didn’t speak. She just stared at the fire, chin resting on her knees, her face unreadable. Her fingers tightened around the blanket.

It was too much. I could see it in her eyes—the way her breath slowed.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re leaving in two days.”

I stung me to say that, but if it meant keeping her safe, I’d endure the pain. She shifted, just enough to make my chest coil tightly. Just enough for me to feel the distance.

“Let’s head back,” I said.

But what I meant was: Please don’t push me away. Please don’t let this be the moment I lose you to fear.

What had I done? Did I just distance myself from her? Burden her with my troubles? Or worse—put her in danger?

She didn’t answer. Just stood quietly and walked into the living room. We said our goodbyes. My mother held on to Roxanne a little longer—gentle, comforting. As I reached the door, my mother pulled me aside.

“Give her time,” she said, her voice low. “She’ll come around. I know it in my heart.”

Time. It was the one thing Roxanne and I didn’t have—and the one thing I couldn’t steal. She kissed my cheek softly. And let me go.

CHAPTER 19