Empire of Lies and Flames (Ruins of Power #1)

Chapter 23

JAVIER

The envelope was unremarkable—plain white, creased at the edges like it had been through hell. My name was scrawled across the front in jagged, familiar handwriting, the kind that made my skin crawl. I stared at it, my jaw tightening until I felt the pressure in my teeth. Ten years. Over ten years, and they never stopped coming. Like clockwork, one every few months, as if the bastard thought persistence might wear me down.

It didn’t.

The letters just sat there, stacking up in my desk drawer like a rotting carcass I didn’t have the stomach to deal with. I never opened them—I didn’t need to. I knew what they held: apologies, excuses, manipulations. He was always good at those. But the drawer wasn’t big enough to contain the hate I had for him. No drawer in the world was. The very sight of them soured my mood and left a bitter taste at the back of my throat that wouldn’t go away no matter how much coffee or whiskey I downed.

I hated them for existing, for waiting there, quiet and smug, daring me to care. But what I hated more was how much I loved letting them rot. There was something satisfying—sinister, even—about ignoring them. It wasn’t just defiance; it was control. Each unopened letter was my way of saying, you don’t matter. I wanted him to know that his words would never reach me. Let him choke on the silence.

I slid this newest one into the drawer and slammed it shut. The thud echoed in the quiet of my office, loud enough to make me flinch. For a second, I just stood there, hands braced on the edge of the desk, trying to breathe past the tightness in my chest.

I needed air. Or distraction.

Before I knew it, I was heading toward Renée’s office. Empty. My brows drew together as I scanned the room, irritation bubbling up for no reason other than the fact that I couldn’t find her. Then I spotted her in the lounge.

She was leaning against the counter, a mug in her hand, laughing at something someone had said. That laugh—light, easy, like it wasn’t even trying to brighten the room but did anyway. She always did that. She softened things without meaning to, without knowing how much I needed her to.

For the first time all day, my chest didn’t feel so tight.

An idea struck me, and I pulled out my phone, my fingers hovering over the screen. I thought about texting her—something simple, maybe an excuse to pull her away. But before I could type a word, my phone buzzed.

The name flashing across the screen made my blood run cold.

I stared at it, feeling the ground shift beneath me. The air thickened, darker, heavier, and suddenly I was back in a place I never wanted to return to. My grip on the phone tightened, my knuckles aching.

That name. That fucking name. It had no right to interrupt my life. No right to pull me back into a hell I’d spent years crawling out of.

The call kept buzzing, the screen vibrating like it was taunting me, demanding my attention. My pulse pounded in my ears, louder than anything else in the room.

For a split second, I entertained the thought of letting it ring forever. Of not answering, of pretending it didn’t exist—pretending he didn’t exist. But I knew I couldn’t do that.

With a sharp exhale, I pulled the phone out and swiped to answer, pressing it to my ear without a word.

“Javier.” His voice was like gravel, rough and cutting. It clawed at old wounds I’d buried deep.

“I thought we’d established,” I said, “that you would never call me again.”

There was a pause on the other end, then a dry chuckle. “Agreements can change, Javier. You owe me.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, dragging memories I didn’t want to relive to the surface. I gritted my teeth, my free hand curling into a fist at my side. “I don’t owe you a damn thing.”

“Don’t fool yourself,” he shot back, his tone sharper now. “You think you can walk away clean from what we did? From what you did?”

I closed my eyes, the weight of his words coiling tight in my chest like barbed wire. I could feel the heat rising, anger mixing with frustration and something uglier—something closer to shame. “What I owe you doesn’t include dragging me back to that nightmare. Say what you want, and say it fast.” I demanded; my voice harsher than I intended.

“Simple.” His response came quick, cold. “I need you in court with me.”

I almost laughed, but the sound stuck in my throat. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m walking into a courtroom for you.”

“You think you have a choice?” His voice dropped. “If I go down, Javier, so do you. Don’t forget that.”

The line was quiet except for his breathing and the pounding of my pulse in my ears. I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. My grip on the phone was so tight it felt like it might snap.

“Think it over,” he said finally, his tone almost mocking. “But don’t take too long. Time’s running out.”

The call ended with a click, but I stood there, the phone still pressed to my ear, the weight of his words suffocating. Slowly, I lowered the phone, staring blankly at the screen before shoving it back into my pocket.

My gaze drifted to the lounge, where Renée’s laugh cut through the fog in my head like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. She was still leaning against the counter, her mug cradled in her hands, her smile as radiant as ever.

It should’ve comforted me. It should’ve reminded me there was still light in my life, still something worth fighting for. But instead, my chest twisted painfully, and the ache was almost unbearable.

I wanted her. God, I wanted her so badly it felt like a physical need. I needed her to ground me, to pull me back from the edge of this darkness that threatened to consume me. But that same need turned my stomach.

Because I knew what I was. And worse, I knew what I might bring to her doorstep if she stayed close. The shadows I’d worked so hard to escape weren’t gone; they were waiting, watching, ready to pounce.

If I dragged her into my life—if those shadows reached her because of me—I wouldn’t survive it.

The thought of something happening to her made my stomach churn, a sharp pang tearing through my chest. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I forced myself to breathe.

She looked over then, her eyes catching mine. Her smile softened, just for me, and for a moment, it felt like the world stopped spinning.

And that was the cruelest part. Because no matter how much I wanted her, no matter how much I needed her, I knew I’d rather live in this torment forever than risk her getting hurt because of me.