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Ruin me
Last Updated:
2026-01-21 22:45:59
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I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband Can't reach
Elara’s POV"Beg," Lucas said again, his voice echoing in the small space under the bed. "Say, 'Please, Master Lucas, I am a little rat.'"He dangled the tablet in front of my face. The blue light reflected in his eyes, making him look like a swamp creature. He was smiling, showing teeth that were too big for his mouth. He thought he had the high ground.I stared at him.Papa had taught me about leverage. He taught me that size didn't matter if you knew where the bones were weak. He taught me that a loud enemy was usually a scared enemy.Lucas was loud. And he was holding the device with a weak grip—thumb on the glass, four fingers loosely on the back. His wrist was bent at an awkward angle because he was trying to tease me."I am waiting," Lucas sang, waving the screen closer. "Beg."I took a slow breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth."Galantes do not beg," I said. My voice was quiet. Deadly.Lucas rolled his eyes. "You're not a Galante. You're a—"He didn't finish the
I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband The bad little boy
Elara’s POVThe room was dark.Hostile territory.I sat under the big, fluffy bed. From here, I could see the door and the window, and I had cover from the creepy dolls with the glass eyes.My heart was beating fast. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Like a drum.I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my ear, right where my comms used to be."Eagle One.” I whispered. "Eagle One, this is Little Bird. Do you copy?"Silence.I waited for the crackle. I waited for Papa’s deep voice to say, “I read you, Little Bird. Hold your position. Extraction team is inbound.”But there was no crackle. There was nothing."Papa." I tried again, tapping my fingers on the floorboards in the pattern he taught me. One tap. Two taps. Pause. Three taps.S-O-S."Please pick up." I sniffled. "I am in the pink room. There are no computers. The windows are single-pane glass. I... I don't know the address."A tear rolled down my cheek. Papa said crying was for after the mission. Mission first. Feelings later.I wip
I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband Call me
Dante’s POVThe penthouse was silent. It felt hollow.I sat in my leather armchair in the study, the lights off. The only illumination came from the bank of monitors on the wall.On Screen 1: The Santiago stock was climbing.On Screen 2: Galante Tech was plummeting.On Screen 3: A loop of the news footage. Isabella stepping out of the car. Mateo falling to his knees. The perfect, tragic reunion.I watched it. Over and over again for the last twenty hours. I watched her hesitate. I watched Elara hide behind her leg. I watched him touch them.I didn't blink. I didn't throw anything else. The rage that had consumed me on the terrace had simmered into something harder. Something colder.Twenty hours had passed since she left. They left."Dante."The door to my study flew open.Romeo walked in. He arrived just an ago. He asked me so many questions at once. I didn't answer any. So, he waited an hour."What the fuck are you doing sitting in the dark?" Romeo barked, slamming his hand against
I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband To hate me
Mateo’s POVI had instructed the chef to prepare a feast.Lobster bisque. Truffle risotto. Wagyu beef. The kind of meal that Galante probably couldn't even pronounce properly.I sat at the head of the long table. The room was bathed in the warm glow of two dozen candles."They are ready, sir." The housekeeper said as she stepped back.Isabella walked in first.She had changed out of her clothes into the green silk gown I had laid out for her. It hung a little loose on her now as she was thinner, sharper than before but she was still the most beautiful creature I had ever seen."Sit, my love.” I said, gesturing to the chair to my right.She sat. She didn't look at me. She looked at the empty chair across from her.Elara walked in next. She was still wearing her jeans and the sweater she had arrived in. I had tried to get the nanny to put her in the velvet dress I bought, but apparently, the child had bitten her.Bitten her. Like a feral animal.I decided to let it slide. For tonight."
I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband His smell
Mateo’s POVI walked away from the nursery, holding Isabella’s hand and moved down the corridor. It was for her own good. A child needed boundaries. A Santiago needed structure.I turned to Isabella.She hadn't stopped me. She must be tired from all her nagging too."She will be fine" I said as I took my hand to her back and placed it there.I felt her flinch. It was a reflex he had installed in her. A reflex of fear."Come." I whispered, guiding her firmly away from the nursery. "We need to get you settled. You look exhausted."I led her to the double doors at the end of the East Wing. The Master Suite.I paused with my hand on the brass handle, looking down at her. "Do you remember?" I asked softly.She nodded, though her eyes were empty. "I remember."I pushed the doors open.The room smelt of devotion. I had forbidden the maids from opening the windows for six years. I cleaned it myself. I didn't want the air of a world without her to contaminate this space."Look.” I breathed,
I Faked My Death to Destroy My Husband Papa is a monster
Mateo’s POVI had waited six years, four months, and twelve days to open this door.My hand trembled as I held the crystal knob. It was Elena’s room. I had cleaned it myself and custom-decorated it so that Elara could stay here. She was the second chance to fix my mistake. I turned to Isabella to understand whether she remembered this room or not. She did. Her eyes were already teary. But she didn't say a word. Then I looked down at the hesitant child standing next to me. She was still clutching Isabella’s sweater. She looked so small. So fragile."Are you ready?" I whispered, beaming down at her.She didn't smile back. She just stared at the door with those wide, grey eyes that seemed unsettlingly intelligent, too sharp for a child of six."Is it a safe room?" She asked. My heart pinched. Safe room. That was Galante’s doing. He had raised my daughter in a war zone. He had taught her to look for exits before she looked for toys."It is better than a safe room." I promised, turning
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