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ISLA
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2026-02-19 15:22:09
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RUIN ME TENDER ISLA
Sleep is a ghost I can’t seem to catch.The hours bleed into one another, marked only by the slow, suffocating tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway. My laptop screen is the only source of light in the room, casting a harsh, artificial glow against the silk sheets I’ve twisted around my legs.My eyes burn. My head throbs with a dull, rhythmic ache behind my temples. But I can’t look away.Raven Co.The name mocks me from the digital document.I’ve read the file three times. Then four. Then five. Desperate to find a mistake, a glitch, a misinterpretation. I want Andy to be wrong. I want this to be some elaborate accounting error, a dummy file Mathieu created for a case study, a simulation—anything other than what it clearly is.But the numbers don’t lie.Three months before the fire.March 12th. A transfer of two hundred thousand dollars to an offshore account in the Caymans.March 28th. Another transfer. Three hundred thousand.April 15th. Five hundred thousand.The label on th
RUIN ME TENDER ISLA
Sleep is a ghost I can’t seem to catch.The hours bleed into one another, marked only by the slow, suffocating tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway. My laptop screen is the only source of light in the room, casting a harsh, artificial glow against the silk sheets I’ve twisted around my legs.My eyes burn. My head throbs with a dull, rhythmic ache behind my temples. But I can’t look away.Raven Co.The name mocks me from the digital document.I’ve read the file three times. Then four. Then five. Desperate to find a mistake, a glitch, a misinterpretation. I want Andy to be wrong. I want this to be some elaborate accounting error, a dummy file Mathieu created for a case study, a simulation—anything other than what it clearly is.But the numbers don’t lie.Three months before the fire.March 12th. A transfer of two hundred thousand dollars to an offshore account in the Caymans.March 28th. Another transfer. Three hundred thousand.April 15th. Five hundred thousand.The label on th
RUIN ME TENDER ISLA
Before the silence grows heavy, Mom pipes in, her tone light and hopeful, “We should go out for dinner tonight. Somewhere nice. Celebrate you being here.”I look up, caught off guard by the sudden shift, but I smile, softening. “That’s nice.”She returns the smile, a little proud, a little wistful. Dad is already pulling out his phone. “I’ll make the reservations then. I know just the place.”Mom turns to me, her eyes gentle. “Don’t exhaust yourself so much, Isla. You’re still young. There’s time.”Her voice trails as she adds quietly, “Mathieu worked too hard too…”Her eyes drift to the floor, and something in her expression darkens, fades. A memory flashes behind her gaze like the after-image of a flame.I tense. My brother’s name always draws a shadow in the room—like a ghost still sitting in the corner, waiting for someone to acknowledge him.I can’t let her go there. Not again. If she thinks about Mathieu, she’ll fall too deep into it. And she won’t know how to climb back.So I s
RUIN ME TENDER ISLA
I check my watch—8:03 AM. Three minutes past eight, and still no sign of Ciaran Valente. I press my lips together, inhaling slowly as I adjust my sunglasses. I had been very clear in my email—sharp at eight. Apparently, the ruthless CEO of Valente Corporation has a flexible definition of punctuality. Sighing, I glance down at my phone, skimming through my emails while I wait. There’s still so much to get done. I need to finish the site assessment by eleven so I can head to my parents’ house. It’s the weekend, and they’ve been asking me to visit. I haven’t seen them in a month, so it’s only fair. Especially since I’ll be flying to Florida tomorrow for a week-long business trip. Today is my only chance. My gaze lifts from the screen to scan the historical site in front of me. The old monument, weathered and crumbling, stands as a reminder of the past. It’s located in Battery Park, Manhattan, just a twenty-minute drive from my company. The project’s blueprint involves incorpora
RUIN ME TENDER CIARAN
The dining table is covered with an obscene amount of food, like we're hosting a fucking banquet instead of just two people sitting across from each other in stifling silence. Fresh oysters on a bed of crushed ice. Lobster thermidor, its golden crust glistening under the chandelier light. Seared scallops drizzled with truffle butter. Wagyu steak, cooked to perfection, sliced thin. A bottle of Château Margaux sits between us, the deep red of the wine almost mocking in its elegance. It's all high-end, perfectly curated by Maria, but none of it makes me hungry. I pull out my chair at the far end of the table, settling in as my father sits opposite me. His blazer is draped over the chair behind him, his brooding expression set in stone, the same fucking look he always wears like it's a second skin. Maria moves around the table, serving the food. No one else is allowed to do it. She's been in charge of this house since before I could walk, and even now, she's the only person my fath
RUIN ME TENDER CIARAN
Fuck.I should've walked away the moment she ran that pretty mouth of hers.But Isla Moreau is a goddamn menace—one that knows exactly how to test me.The way she tilts her chin in defiance, her pulse fluttering beneath my fingers, drives something sharp and volatile through me. A challenge. One I'm dangerously close to accepting.Her eyes, blue and fucking daring, hold mine like she's just as willing to play this game.She has no fucking idea.I tighten my grip—just enough to feel the slight hitch in her breath. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her exactly who she's provoking."Do you really want to find out?" I murmur, my voice low, taunting.She doesn't back down.Of course, she doesn't.Her lips part slightly, her breathing uneven, and for a split second, I wonder what kind of sounds she'd make if I took this further. If I leaned in, if I bit that sharp little tongue of hers just to shut her up.I exhale through my nose, forcing myself to pull back before I do something st
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