39. Her Ruin
Chapter thirty-nine
Her Ruin
I stand in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her as she freezes on the bike. The engine roars under her, loud enough to shatter the silence of the night, but she doesn’t move. Not yet. She just sits there, her shoulders stiff, her head tilted slightly like she’s trying to convince herself this is the right move.
I can feel the war in her, even from here. She’s running it through her head, over and over, trying to decide if she’ll go through with it. I don’t move. I don’t say a word. I don’t need to. She’ll decide soon enough.
Her head turns, just a little, and her eyes lock on mine. I stay rooted in place, my arms tight across my chest, my expression calm. I see it all in her face—the hesitation, the anger, the guilt.
She wants me to stop her.
She wants me to step forward, grab the keys, and tell her she’s not going anywhere. But I don’t. If she’s going to leave, she’s going to do it knowing I didn’t lift a fucking finger to stop her.
If she thinks she can win this game, she’s in for a rude awakening. I invented this shit.
My jaw tightens as I watch her. She looks torn, her eyes flickering between me and the road, her hands gripping the bike like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. She doesn’t realize she’s just proving my point.
The seconds stretch on, the silence between us louder than the engine, and I can see her resolve cracking. She wants me to make this choice for her. To take away the burden of deciding, to give her an excuse to stay. But if she wants to leave, I’m going to let her break us with her own two hands. Let her feel every fucking step away from me.
The bike jerks forward, her foot kicking up the stand as she speeds off into the night. I watch her go, my heart pounding harder than it should. My hands twitch at my sides, itching to pull her back, but I stay still. I let her go. For now.
As her tail light disappears into the darkness, I finally move, stepping back into the house and slamming the door shut behind me. The echo of it feels too final, too sharp, and for a second, I want to go after her, chase her down, and remind her exactly why running from me never works.
But I don’t. Because this isn’t about me chasing her. This is about her realizing there’s nowhere to run.
The thing about Aria is, she doesn’t realize how predictable she is when she’s trying to be unpredictable. She thinks leaving makes her stronger, that it puts her in control. But what she doesn’t realize is that walking away only ties her closer to me.
Because now, every second she spends out there, every mile she puts between us, she’ll feel me. She’ll hear me. She’ll know she’s running from something she can’t escape.
I grab a beer from the fridge, twisting off the cap and taking a long pull, the bitterness settling like a weight in my chest. I should be angrier. I should be fucking livid. But all I feel is calm.
I sit on the edge of the couch, my mind racing, replaying every second of her standing out there, her face caught between defiance and doubt.
I finish the beer, the bottle clinking as I set it on the coffee table, and pull my phone from my pocket. My thumb hovers over her contact, the urge to call her, to taunt her, clawing at the back of my mind. But I shove it down. Not yet. Not like this.
Instead, I shoot a quick text to Luca.
Me: She’s just left like we thought she would. Don’t do anything yet.
The response comes almost immediately.
Luca: You sure? Matteo’s betting she won’t make it five miles before she turns around.
Me: Let him lose his money. She’ll be back. You just have to know how to wait.
I toss the phone onto the couch, leaning back and letting out a long breath. My brothers are in their parts of the house, but it feels too quiet now, too empty without her, and I hate it. I hate the way she gets under my skin, the way she makes me feel like I’m the one losing control.
But that’s the thing about her. She’s chaos wrapped in soft edges, fire hidden under skin, and no matter how much she fights me, I can’t let her go. Not completely. Not ever.
“She’ll come back,” I say to the empty room, my voice steady, certain.
And when she does, I’ll be waiting. Because if Aria wants to play mind games, she’s about to find out she’s up against a fucking master.