Chapter 13 Ruined My Life Novels & Stories

"Calm down, child. She wasn't a student here. The course she applied for two years ago, was already completed three months ago. She was just randomly attending art classes on a requested application. And today, she informed that she won't attend it anymore either." Edward wasn't listening to any of his word. His headwas practically drumming, like it would burst any minute. Roughly breathing, he stood up and marched out of the office, anger, hollowness, remorse, each expression floating on his face. The events of yesterday night begin to flash in his mind, like how he ruined an innocent soul in an attempt to fuel his ego. He ruined her life. How was he supposed to live his own life normally a

I wait until the door closes behind him before letting the tears fall. My heart hurts and it feels like a knife is twisting in it. I can't believe this is happening. Just yesterday,my life was perfect. I had escaped a trapped engagement with Marcus,saved Logan's life and finally managed to stabilize my rather chaotic life.And now,everything has turned upside down.Again. My life is messed up and everyday welcomes a new drama. My misfortunes started that day Hector suggested an open relationship and each day,it keeps getting worse. The only happy days I have had was with Theo but he has ruined that with his distrust.

That word echoed in my head long after Andrew had finished speaking. Lucky. Was that what this was? Because standing there, smiling and nodding along to my brother’s words, all I could think about was the way Killian’s mouth had felt on mine. The way his touch had set my body on fire. The way one night with him had already ruined me for anyone else, including Victor. Lucky? No. I was cursed. And the worst part was, some wicked, broken part of me didn’t even want to be saved. But then another thought crept in, colder, sharper. What if I was just a fling? What if, for Killian, I was nothing more than a moment of pleasure, a reckless mistake he had already forgotten?

But curiosity had always been my fatal flaw. ‎ ‎My fingers trembled as I approached a shelf, drawn to a black folder with a photograph sticking out. I quickly turned on my flashlight to see a man in an expensive suit shaking hands with another figure whose face was circled in red ink. Notes scrawled in Daniel’s sharp handwriting covered the margins: “offshore accounts, money laundering, eliminate loose ends.” ‎ ‎The blood in my veins turned to ice water. ‎

His hands were wet with blood. The chair dropped. It hit the floor with a loud crack. Rian looked at his hands. Then at Carter. Then at me. “I think I’m going to be sick,” I whispered. My stomach turned violently. I pressed my hand to my mouth. Rian stepped toward me. I stepped back. “Drisana—” “Don’t.” “I didn’t mean—” “Just don't. You almost killed him.” I looked at Carter again. His chest was still moving. Barely.

His company was gone, and so were his friends and reputation. He lived alone in a rundown rental on the outskirts of the city. Half the paint had peeled from the walls. The windows wouldn't close properly, and during the winter, the cold wind found its way inside. No one in the neighborhood knew who he was or cared. Every morning, he went to the local market and haggled with the vegetable vendors over a few pennies. During Mildred's medical parole, she fell seriously ill and was admitted to the hospital. No one visited her—not a single housekeeper, driver, or maid she had once ordered around.

That my disappearance was hitting him hard. My heart shattered all over again as I heard him speak. “Raven told me she hated this kind of life—all the glamour and the responsibility given to her through this company. She’d always told me how overwhelming all this felt, and to an extent, I understood her. To an extent, I had thought I would be enough. That I would be everything she’d needed to be happy.” He let his gaze move around the room, as if he were in search of someone in the crowd. “But I guess not. It’s been a month now, pookie. Please come home.”

I clutched at my chest, fingers digging into the fabric, my lungs straining for air that wouldn’t come. My strength was slipping fast. Everything blurred at the edges, dark creeping in. Someone had tampered with my food. And I knew exactly who.

I took several shaky breaths, made my hands into fists. I turned and ran to my car, I was furious, why, damn it, why did I always have to ruin everything? Every time something good comes into my life, I don't know what bad habit I had of ruining it. Now Minerva had fired me and she didn't want to see me. "From now on I don't want you in my life, go away, I don't want to see you anymore." I slammed the steering wheel furiously. I started driving without knowing quite where to.

Made love to her — no rubber, no protection, no distance. She has to know. I didn’t just fall — I face-planted. Hard. No graceful recovery from that kind of impact. No walking away. Hell, I’ll be lucky if I can fucking crawl away. I’m wreckage now. Pulverized. Demolished by my own half-fucking-brother. My heart lies in a billion shattered pieces at my feet. And I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again. Not really. I grab an El Tequileño from the bar and take a swig straight from the bottle, collapsing into one of the oversized deck chairs. Plush. Ridiculously comfortable. They came with the place — another reminder that money can buy comfort, but not a fucking solution.