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Chapter Forty-Five: Softness in the Silence
Last Updated:
2025-06-30 22:58:30
Latest chapter
Ruin Me, Blackwood Chapter Seventy: Collision Course
Dominic’s POVI knew I was a reckless man the moment I stepped into Amelia’s apartment. But recklessness had become my closest companion these days, and tonight it was screaming louder than ever.The way she looked at me — so raw, so vulnerable — was a crack in the armor I’d spent years building. A crack I didn’t want to admit was there, but couldn’t ignore. Not when she stood so close, breath mingling with mine, her hands clutching my shirt like she was holding onto something precious and fragile.I wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Supposed to keep her at a distance, locked away behind the walls I’d spent a lifetime constructing. But standing here, with her skin warm beneath my fingers and the scent of her hair filling my lungs, I was already lost.“Dominic,” she whispered, the sound barely carrying over the heavy air between us. It was a warning, a plea, and an invitation all wrapped into one.I wanted to tell her to walk away. To run. To protect herself from the chaos I was abou
Ruin Me, Blackwood Chapter Sixty-Nine: Crossed Lines
Amelia’s POVI’d never hated my apartment more than I did tonight.It was too quiet. Too empty. The kind of silence that pressed against your chest and made it impossible to breathe. I sat curled on my couch in one of Dominic’s old shirts — one I’d stolen a week ago when he wasn’t paying attention. It still smelled like him. Clean soap, leather, and something dark I could never quite place. Something that clung to my skin like a memory I couldn’t scrub off.I should’ve stayed away.Should’ve never let myself fall into his bed, his arms, his orbit.But now that I had… God, how was I supposed to pretend it hadn’t happened?My phone sat on the coffee table, silent. I’d ignored every call. Every text from Carter, from Ava. From Dominic.Especially from Dominic.Because if I so much as saw his name light up my screen, I’d answer. And I knew if I heard his voice — low, rough, dangerous in the way it always was when it was just for me — I’d break.And I couldn’t break. Not again.I pulled
Ruin Me, Blackwood Chapter Sixty-Eight: Fractures We Hide
Dominic’s POVThe silence in my penthouse was suffocating.It had been hours since Amelia left. Hours since I woke to find the empty space beside me, her scent still clinging to the sheets like a cruel ghost. I told myself I shouldn’t be surprised. That this was what I wanted — what I’d expected. A clean break, no strings, no complications.But the ache gnawing at my chest told a different story.I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, a glass of whiskey in hand, watching the city bleed into dusk. Lights flickering on one by one like tiny beacons, windows illuminating lives I wasn’t a part of. I’d built this empire from the ground up, brick by ruthless brick, and somewhere along the way, I’d convinced myself that power would be enough. That the money, the control, the untouchable reputation would fill the void.It didn’t.It never had.And then she walked back into my life — not as Carter’s kid sister, not as the annoying little blonde with scraped knees and a mouth that never quit —
Ruin Me, Blackwood Chapter Sixty-Seven: Reckless Things
Amelia’s POVI shouldn’t have come here.The thought had been rattling around in my head since the moment I’d slipped out of Dominic’s penthouse at dawn, the city still cloaked in that hazy, silver-tinted darkness just before sunrise. I’d grabbed my dress off the floor, my shoes in my hand, hair a tangled mess, and bolted before I could stop myself. Before he could wake up and look at me with that guarded, unreadable expression again — like none of it meant a damn thing.Like I didn’t mean a damn thing.I told myself it was better this way. Cleaner. Easier.But sitting here now, hours later, in my small, too-quiet bedroom with the curtains drawn and my phone facedown on the nightstand, it didn’t feel easier. It felt like I was suffocating.My reflection in the mirror was a stranger. Hair mussed, cheeks flushed, lips still slightly swollen from his kisses. My neck bore the faintest ghost of his mouth — marks I could cover with makeup, but not erase. And even if I could, it wouldn’t mat
Ruin Me, Blackwood Chapter Sixty-Six: The Damage We Do
Dominic’s POVThe door closed behind her with a soft click, but it may as well have been a gunshot. The silence that followed was suffocating, the kind that settled deep in your bones and refused to let go.I stood there, leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at the empty space she’d just left like a goddamn coward. The apartment felt too quiet without her in it, every shadow stretching too long, every heartbeat loud in my ears.What the fuck have you done, Blackwood?I’d told myself this couldn’t happen. That it wouldn’t. That no matter how good it felt to lose myself in her last night, to touch her, to taste her, to hear my name on her lips like a goddamn prayer — it couldn’t mean anything. Because it wasn’t supposed to.But it did. It always had.I grabbed the glass of water from the counter and downed it in one long swallow, as if it could wash away the taste of her, the memory of her breathless moans in my ear, her nails in my skin. It didn’t.None of this should’ve happe
Ruin Me, Blackwood Chapter Sixty-Five: Lines We Shouldn’t Cross
Amelia’s POVI should have left hours ago.That was the logical thing to do — the smart thing. To get dressed, gather what little dignity I had left, and put as much distance between myself and Dominic Blackwood as humanly possible.But logic had always failed me when it came to him.I sat on the edge of his bed, his shirt still hanging off my shoulders, the faint scent of him clinging to the fabric. The city outside his windows was coming alive now, the sound of traffic and early morning light cutting through the darkness.And still, I stayed.I could hear him in the kitchen, moving around, the faint clink of glass against marble. It was domestic in a way that felt both foreign and… dangerous. Because it was easy to imagine this being a habit. Waking up tangled in his sheets, stealing his shirts, making coffee in his kitchen while he muttered about morning meetings.But that wasn’t us. It could never be us.We lived in a world where lines existed for a reason — ones we weren’t suppo
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