Page 52 of Bound in Ruin

"Right," I grunt, taking a slow sip of my coffee.

Silence drops over the table once again, heavy and taut, but no longer bitter.

The second she finishes her food, Rosalia wipes her mouth with a napkin, murmurs a quick excuse, and vanishes up the stairs toward our suite like a ghost escaping the morning sun.

I sit at the table alone, watching her empty chair, and let her hide.

For the rest of the day, an unspoken agreement seems to form between us: avoid each other at all costs. The only problem is that two people trying this hard to steer clear of one another end up doing the exact opposite.

By mid-afternoon, it crosses into ridiculous territory.

I’m walking down the main corridor toward my office, rounding a sharp corner, only to almost plow right into her. We both freeze like we’ve been caught committing a crime.

"Sorry," she squeaks, taking three fast steps backward, holding a vase of cut flowers like a shield between us.

"My fault," I grunt, clearing my throat and flattening myself against the mahogany paneling so hard I might merge with the wall. "Go ahead."

She practically sprints past me, her silk skirt swishing loudly in the quiet hall. I turn around and watch her rush off, rubbing the back of my neck in pure disbelief.

An hour later, I step out onto the terrace to take a high-stakes call with one of my northern captains. I’m pacing along the stone balustrade, gesturing sharply as I outline our security protocols, when I turn around—and there she is again. Rosalia is sitting on a low iron bench under the shade of the garden arbor, a book open on her lap.

The moment our eyes meet, her head snaps back to her book so fast I hear her neck crack from ten yards away.

"Sir? Are you still there?" the captain asks over the line.

"Hold on," I mutter into the receiver, lowering the phone. I gaze across the lawn at my wife, who is currently staring with absolute, breathless intensity at a page she clearly hasn't read a single word of.

I let out a heavy breath, shaking my head. I run a multi-million-dollar criminal enterprise, we survived a high-speed car chase, and last night we tore the bedroom apart—yet right now, neither of us has the slightest idea how to act.

I turn back to the garden view, clear my throat into the speaker, and force my mind back onto business, all while keeping one eye on the shadowy arbor where my wife is hiding in plain sight.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ROSALIA

After avoiding Dominic like the plague all day, I finally decide it's time to get out of the house.

Yapper has been back from the vet since early this morning, but he spent the entire day crashed out on his little bed, completely knocked out by the cocktail of vaccines he received.

Now that evening is setting in and the heat of the day has burned off, the puppy is back on his feet, tail wagging and nudging my ankles for attention.

I scoop him up and head downstairs. Helena is standing near the main entryway, giving quiet instructions to one of the house staff.

"Helena," I call out, offering a soft smile. "I'm going to take Yapper for a quick walk around the grounds."

Helena smiles warmly, wiping her hands on her apron. "That's a wonderful idea, dear. Fresh air will do you both good. Have you mentioned it to Dominic?"

I roll my eyes before I can stop myself. Of course. Heavens forbid I step three inches onto the grass without alerting the boss.

"I'll go tell him," I sigh, setting Yapper down for a moment before heading down the familiar, quiet corridor toward his private study.

I knock lightly on the heavy oak door and push it open without waiting for an answer. Dominic is sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, sipping amber liquid from a glass. He looks up instantly, his dark gaze locking onto mine—and for a fraction of a second, that electric tension from last night flickers between us.

I clear my throat quickly, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm taking the dog for a walk around the estate."

Dominic's eyes narrow slightly as he takes in my outfit—a simple cardigan and loose trousers. He sets his glass down with a quiet tap. "Take a guard with you."

A prickle of annoyance flares in my chest. "Dominic, I'm just walking on our own grounds. Inside the high gates."