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All Chapters of Two Brothers. One Ruin.: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

129 Chapters

101

Shaun It’s official. I have no fucking idea what I’m doing anymore. I don’t know why hearing Julian’s name on her lips feels like someone driving a blade between my ribs and slowly twisting it. I don’t know why the thought of her still wanting him has lodged itself under my skin and refuses to leave. I don’t know why any of this is happening. From the other side of the door, I hear her again. Still calling my name. Still rattling the handle even though she has to know by now it isn’t going to open. “You fucking psycho! Open the damn door!” A slow breath leaves me. Yeah. That’s more like it. The hatred. The disgust. The anger she throws at me like knives. Those things I understand. Those things make sense. I know what to do with her hatred. I know how to carry it. How to survive it. It’s a hell of a lot easier than dealing with that other thing I saw last night. That brief, dangerous flash in her eyes. The thing that nearly made me forget myself. Jealousy. Christ. It was be

102

Hours have passed. And she’s still locked in her room. By the time Teresa comes downstairs carrying the empty lunch tray, I’m already standing at the foot of the staircase. Waiting. She notices me before she reaches the bottom step and hesitates. “Sir? Do you need something?” “How is she?” I ask. Teresa studies me carefully. As if she’s trying to decide how honest she should be. Then she descends the last few steps and stops in front of me. “She’s doing alright, sir. At least physically. But emotionally…” I don’t let her finish. “That’s all I needed.” I turn away. And start walking. Putting distance between myself and the conversation. Between myself and the answer I didn’t actually want to hear. That’s when my name suddenly echoes through the house. “Shaun?” I glance toward the front entrance. When the hell did she get here? Ava is standing just inside the foyer, shrugging out of her jacket. “You don’t have to yell.” I call out as I change direction and head towar

103

Liana He couldn’t help himself, could he? Three minutes. Three fucking minutes after the car pulled away from the gates, Xavier handed my bugged phone back to me. What exactly was Shaun so desperate not to miss? The nonstop chatter of two girls rambling about boys, girls, social media drama, and whatever else occupies their minds every hour of the day? Seriously. How does he even do it? Does he rush back into his office the second I leave the house, sit down in front of some surveillance setup like a complete creep, and hit play? Or does he save them up and binge-listen every few days like a psychopath catching up on a podcast series? God. The possibility is disturbing. And embarrassingly entertaining. The conversation around me continues, but I’m barely processing any of it. Emma is sitting on one side of me. Ava on the other. The three of us are getting pedicures while the salon buzzes quietly around us. At least, I assume it does. Because most of what either of them

104

I yank the door open, grab Ryan by the sleeve, and pull him inside before shutting it again. “Whoa, whoa.” A laugh slips out of him. “Easy.” I scowl. “Are you seriously laughing right now?” “If you think about it, the situation is kind of funny. You’ve come a long way from the woman who couldn’t decide whether she trusted me.” His eyes flick over me knowingly. “To the woman who practically strong-armed Shaun into giving me my job back. Which, by the way, was a risky move.” “Yeah, no shit.” I lower my voice instinctively. “That was the only way I could bring you back.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Yeah? So, What do you want?” I stare at him. “What do I want? If I remember correctly, you’re the one who told me you could get me away from all this.” “I distinctly remember saying something a little different.” The look he gives me is painfully condescending. Like he’s explaining basic math to a child. “I told you, you help me so I can help you get free.” I roll my eyes. “Pota

105

He shrugs. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not.” I let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You realize that whether you’re a cop or not, if I decided to expose you right now, you’d be completely screwed either way? So how about you give me a straight answer for once?” “Alright, fine.” He mutters. “Yeah. I am.” My eyes narrow. I have absolutely no idea whether he’s telling the truth. I was the one who jumped to that conclusion. For all I know, he’s simply going along with it because it’s exactly what I want to hear. A convenient answer. A useful answer. The kind of answer that makes people trust you. Which means it could be complete bullshit. “Okay then.” I shift in my seat. “Tell me this. The auction.”My stomach twists as flashes of that night force their way back into my head. The stage. The women. The bidding. Vincent practically drooling over his purchase. “If you’re really a cop, wasn’t that enough? Those contracted girls being auctioned of

106

Mike is standing in the hallway outside the restrooms. Waiting. His gaze lands on me the second I emerge. And there’s something different about it now. Darker. Hungrier. The alcohol probably isn’t helping. “Y’know,” he says, taking a step toward me, “I gave it some thought.” Oh, good. That’s never a promising way to start a conversation. “So what if you’re married?” Another step. “You’re still gorgeous enough to be worth having some fun with.” “Trust me,” I say, trying to move past him, “you really don’t want to go looking for trouble.” Suddenly, his hand clamps around my waist and yanks me back toward him. “What exactly are you gonna do about it?” Oh, this idiot. He has no idea who he’s messing with. I drive my knee up as hard as I can. Direct hit to his crotch. He folds instantly, a strangled sound escaping him as he doubles over in pain. “You bitch.” I wrench myself free from his grip and take off. For all of three seconds. Then he’s on me again. “Shit—” His han

107

Shaun I lower her onto the bed and straighten back up slowly. She melts into the mattress, sprawled across it like her body has officially given up cooperating with her. Drunk. Exhausted. Barely conscious. I shrug off my coat, toss it over the armchair nearby, then roll my sleeves to my forearms as I head toward the bathroom. A second later, water begins rushing into the tub. Hot enough to sober her up a little. Or at least keep her from waking up tomorrow feeling like death itself crawled into her skull. By the time I walk back into the room, she’s half asleep already. I grab her hand and pull her upright. Her body sways dangerously the moment she’s sitting. I steady her and guide her legs over the edge of the mattress. “What’re you doing?” she mumbles with heavy eyelids. Christ. She’s completely gone. “Why the fuck did you drink that much?” I mutter as I slide her jacket off her shoulders. A soft, drunken laugh slips out of her. “I dunno. Maybe because my husband’s a

108

I just stare at her for a few long seconds. What the fuck am I doing with you, Liana? And maybe worse— What the fuck are you doing to me? I don’t know whether I’m giving in to her or to myself. Probably both. Slowly, I reach for the buttons of my shirt and start undoing them one by one. Her eyes stay on me the entire time. A minute later, every piece of clothing I had on is scattered across the bathroom floor. I step into the tub. Liana shifts forward to make room, and I lower myself behind her into the steaming water. The second I’m settled, she melts back against me without hesitation. Her spine presses to my chest, her head tipping sideways against me as her eyes drift shut. Fuck. This. This is where I want her. Right here. In my arms. Close enough that I can feel every breath she takes. Close enough that I never have to wonder where she is or whether she’s safe. Always close to me. Always with me. I wrap both arms around her waist and pull her tighter against

109

By the time the SUV rolls into the old estate, Xavier and Sarah are already waiting at the far end of the driveway. The second I step out, I head for the path leading toward the back grounds without slowing down. They fall in behind me. “Talk.” Sarah picks up her pace, heels clicking sharply against the stone as she moves up beside me. “Things are getting messy in the underworld.” She gets straight to the point. “There’s a wave moving through the city. Bodies are dropping. People are vanishing. Crews are stepping on each other’s toes. Everybody’s jumpy, everybody’s armed.” I don’t react. I keep walking. She exhales and steps in front of me, forcing me to stop. “Sanford’s losing patience. From where he’s standing, you’ve gone quiet while half the city’s losing its mind.” Her eyes lock onto mine. “He wants to know what the hell you’re tied up in that you’re not seeing this.” I stare at her for a beat. Then brush past her. “Do I look like the fucking police commissioner?” She fal

110

Liana My head is pounding. Not nearly as much as it probably should be considering the amount of tequila I put away last night, but the ache is definitely there, enough to be annoying. Part of it is the lingering hangover. The other part is from spending way too much time trying to force my brain to remember what the hell happened after I threw up. Fragments keep flashing through my mind. Blurry snapshots. Nothing that stays long enough to grab onto. The harder I try to piece it together, the more everything slips away. I remember Shaun. I remember him undressing me. I remember him sitting with me in the bathtub. After that? Nothing. Did we talk? I feel like we must have. There’s this vague sense that something important was said. But every time I reach for it, the memory disappears before I can catch it. God. This is useless. With a frustrated groan, I glance down at my naked body beneath the blankets. At least one thing is clear. Nothing happened between us afterwar

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