~Ruby's POV~
“Miss me, Ruby?”
My breath caught. My throat went dry. That voice—smooth, mocking, sharp like a blade drawn slowly from its sheath.
“Sarah,” I whispered.
She laughed. “Still sounds good coming out of your mouth. But don’t worry—I’m not here to play games. Not yet.”
And then, just before the line went dead: “Roman is mine and I’ll make sure of it. So be ready, Ruby. I always get what I want.”
It echoed in my ears long after the silence took over. The words weren’t new. She’d said them once before, months ago at that party.
That night still haunted me.
Her red dress. Her wineglass clutched with elegance. Her gaze, like a sniper’s, locked on Roman and burning holes through me.
“I don’t know what little fairytale you’re living in,” she’d whispered that night, smiling like we were old friends. “But Roman belongs to me. And I don’t lose.”
I hadn't taken it seriously. I’d told myself she was just jealous. Obsessed. Bitter.
But now?
Now I knew better.
I stormed down the hallway.
