Semua Bab Ruin Me, Blackwood: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Amelia’s POVI lay on my side, staring out the massive window of my apartment, watching the last streaks of twilight bleed out over the city. The room was quiet, but my mind was anything but. Every minute since I left Dominic’s office earlier that afternoon had been a war inside me. A tug of war between common sense and reckless, aching want.I should have walked away weeks ago. I told myself that, over and over. From the moment I accepted the job, I knew what it meant. I’d promised myself I could handle it. That it was just business, that my heart wouldn’t get involved. That Dominic Blackwood would stay in his box — my brother’s untouchable, impossible best friend. The man who made my blood simmer with a single glance, and drove me absolutely insane in every possible way.But somewhere between the late nights, the sharp words, the stolen looks, and that kiss — God, that kiss — I lost the battle.And now I was lying here, my stomach twisted in knots because he’d sent a message that bo

Amelia’s POVI didn’t remember how we made it to his bedroom. One minute, his mouth was on mine, hot and claiming, the next we were tangled in sheets, the city lights washing over us in fractured pieces through the tall windows. It was reckless, it was inevitable. Every part of me had known this would happen the second I stepped foot in that penthouse.But nothing prepared me for how it would feel. Not just the way his hands felt on my skin, rough and sure, or the way his mouth dragged over my collarbone like a man starved. It was deeper than that. It was the way he looked at me — like I wasn’t just a woman in his bed, like I wasn’t just Noah’s sister, like I was something that had always been his and he’d finally stopped fighting it.And God, I wanted to be that. Even if it broke us both.The room was quiet now. His body half-draped over mine, my fingers absently tracing the line of his shoulder where a faded scar cut through his skin. I hadn’t asked about it. I didn’t need to. I co

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

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

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