All Chapters of His Ruin: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Armani Content Warning: This chapter contains mature sexual themes and self-pleasure. I couldn't control myself anymore now that she was in my space. The moment I stepped into the bedroom and saw her on the terrace, back turned to me, something in me shifted. Her silhouette stood against the night sky, the silk of her robe moving slightly with the breeze. Completely unaware of her surroundings. I moved without thinking, walking silently across the floor. I stopped just inches behind her, close enough to smell her skin and the faint vanilla scent that always clung to her. My hands twitched at my sides. I wanted to wrap my arms around her waist, pull her back against my chest, bury my face in her neck, and inhale until I drowned in her. She’s mine now. Legally. Completely. And still she stands there like she can escape me. She turned around and walked directly into my chest. A startled gasp escaped her. Her eyes flew up to mine. Wide. For a split second, genuine surprise f

Drisana Armani entered the conference room like he belonged there. The room immediately erupted. “Mr. Rossi!” “Why have you avoided the public eye for so many years?” “Is this your first public appearance?” “Are the rumors true that SpectraGuard works with government agencies?” Questions flew from every direction. Armani didn’t react. He walked straight to the podium and adjusted the microphone. The room slowly quieted. “One question at a time,” he said calmly. The simple sentence somehow sounded like an order. The reporters obeyed. A woman in the front row raised her hand. “Mr. Rossi, why partner with a cosmetics company?” Armani glanced at me briefly before answering. “Because cybersecurity isn’t limited to technology companies.” He folded his hands in front of him. “Veda Beauty stores customer information, payment details, supply chain records, employee data, and proprietary research. Any company that handles information is a target.” The reporter nodded

Drisana The morning of the anniversary event, the mansion was unusually busy. People moved in and out of our bedroom from the moment I woke up. Garment bags arrived first. Then the hairstylists. Then the makeup artists. Then more people whose jobs I didn’t even understand. The room looked less like a bedroom and more like the backstage area of a fashion show. Through all of it, Armani refused to leave. He sat in the armchair near the window with a cup of coffee in one hand. Watching. A stylist walked over holding two dress options. “Mrs. Rossi, which one would you prefer?” Before I could answer, Armani pointed at the black gown. “My wife likes that one.” I looked at him. “Your wife can speak for herself.” “Of course she can.” He didn’t sound sorry. The stylist quickly hid her smile. An hour later, a makeup artist stepped back to inspect her work. “Perfect,” he said. Another stylist adjusted the final curl in my hair. “Beautiful,” the stylist said. “

Armani My body stiffened the moment her arms wrapped around me. I wasn't expecting the hug. Not from her. Not after everything. Drisana seemed to realize what she was doing almost immediately. Her body tensed. She started to pull away. I didn't let her. My arms closed around her before she could step back. For a second, neither of us moved. I buried my face against her shoulder and shut my eyes. She was here. Actually here. Not on a screen or across a crowded room or in a photograph I'd stared at for too long. She’s real and warm and close enough to hold. A strange ache settled in my chest. I couldn't remember the last time someone had held me like this. Without wanting or expecting something. Just because they saw I was hurting. My grip tightened slightly. Just enough to convince myself this wasn't another one of those impossible things I'd spent years wishing for. I turned my face toward her neck and inhaled slowly. The familiar scent of vanilla and soft floral notes su

DrisanaThe wedding announcement party was everything my father had envisioned.Elegant. Expensive. Perfect.Crystal chandeliers bathed the ballroom in warm golden light. Waiters moved gracefully through the sea of guests with silver trays balanced on their palms. The city’s wealthiest families mingled with politicians, business executives, investors, and reporters. Laughter echoed through the room, accompanied by the soft melody of a string quartet tucked into one corner.To everyone else, it was a celebration.To me, it felt like a beautifully decorated execution.I forced a smile every time someone stopped to congratulate me.“Congratulations, Miss Varma.”“You and Mr. Grey make such a wonderful couple.”Ew. “We’re looking forward to the wedding.”Each word felt heavier than the last. Hidden beneath the sleeve of my gown, a small earbud rested comfortably in my ear.“Can you hear me?” Armani’s voice murmured.I resisted the urge to touch the earpiece.“Loud and clear,” I answered