Ruin Jolie Vines Novels & Stories

Removing the quilt from her face, she let out a small yawn, sleeping clearing from her eyes. The sun rays penetrated through the glass window before clashing with her Hazel eyes, causing the golden in them to sparkle. The burden of her trauma was bit lowered than usual, and then it hit her. She had Theodore's sandalwood scent all over her. The yesterday night came crashing down at her, causing different feelings to emerge.

"So, Ruin is really coming?" "Before Sin Rose summoned Ruin, Ruin was looking for a target in France. Maybe now Ruin is already in Korea." "But, by the way, the way you beat Sin Rose was amazing," Alice fed Justin the food she bought a few minutes ago. Justin chuckled and took a bite from Alice.

A sleek black SUV was waiting on the tarmac, and a driver in a crisp white shirt stood beside it. “Mr. Moretti, the driver greeted with a nod. “Welcome. Everything is prepared at the villa. “Thank you, James.” James opened the back door, and Matt helped me inside before sliding in beside me. The interior was cool-the air conditioning was a blessed relief-and impossibly luxurious. Leather seats.Tinted windows. Bottles of water waiting in the console. I grabbed one immediately, suddenly realizing how thirsty I was. Matt watched me with amusement. “Thirsty?”

Moonlight filtered through the clouds, turning everything silver and strange. In the center of the clearing stood a structure. Not a building exactly, more like a ruin. Broken columns and crumbling walls, covered in vines that seemed to move slightly in the darkness. At its heart was a stone platform, raised a few feet off the ground. Tessa was kneeling on the platform. Her hands were bound behind her back, her head bowed. She looked smaller than I remembered. Older. Her gray hair hung loose around her face, dirty and tangled. My heart slammed against my ribs.

Renna's POV. The loud music from the speakers throbbed so hard it rattled my bones, my chest practically vibrated with every pulse of sound. I told myself I was going to enjoy this. I needed to enjoy this. But there I was, standing at the edge of our VIP table, nursing my third cocktail, still fighting the ghosts in my head. “Relax, Renna,” Gia shouted over the music, bumping her shoulder playfully against mine. “It’s your first night out in forever!”

Ridiculous. I drain the rest of my drink and turn away, the silk of my gown trailing behind me, the deep red fabric pooling like liquid velvet against the marble floor. The gala is in full swing—glasses clinking, laughter chiming, power deals sealed with the curve of a smirk rather than a handshake. It is hosted by Henry Whitmore, another display of wealth and prestige under the guise of charity. As the heir to Moreau and its CEO, my presence is not just expected—it is a necessity.

The only way to find out was to open that video. Zia clicked on that video and the clip finally started playing. First it was a little dark and then she found something familiar. It was from last night's party. The footage was of one of the balconies of that resort which her grandpa had bought…. and then she saw something which numbed her soul in every possible way……Damien and Chloe……

We stared right at each other and smiled for one last time. “So… it’s finally goodbye,” I said as I reached out my hand for a handshake. “Goodbye,” he weakly said before shaking it. It’s an awkward gesture and so laugh erupted from our lips. We then drank the wine from our glass until suddenly… I felt something wrong. “Are you okay, Ayesha?” Ivann asked worriedly, the moment he noticed me acting strange. My head started spinning and my vision started blurrying. “Fuck! I think something was in my wine! My vision is starting to blur!” I heard him complain to myself.

Only then did I realize that the garage Alistair and I had rented when we first started our business had long since been demolished. And the stall we used to visit every day just to save a dollar had already turned into a bakery. That was when I finally understood—things change, and so do people. Even the beautiful memories I once cherished had been erased by time. My phone rang. It was my mentor. There was a hint of hesitation in her voice as she began, "Winnie, your application to join the 707 confidential research project was approved yesterday. I need to confirm this one last time—have you truly thought this through?

Three hours later, a flashy pink sports car finally pulled up to the clinic. The door opened, and Isla stepped out on sky-high heels. She was poured into a tight, deep-V red dress so short it barely covered her thighs, and she was practically spilling out of it. Worse, she reeked of male pheromones—and not from just one man. "Oh my goddess, Damien!" Isla covered her mouth theatrically. "You're hurt so badly!"