50. Her Ruin
Chapter fifty
Her Ruin
Later that night, as the room fell into silence and the only sound was the faint rustling of the sheets, I lay awake beside her, her body curled into mine. Her warmth presses against me, grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed.
Luca’s voice from before echoes in my head, his words from years ago like a fucking prophecy: “One day, you’ll love someone, Dominic. And when you do, it’ll fuck you up. You’ll fight it, but it’ll eat you alive.”
I didn’t believe him then. I thought love was a weakness that could be exploited. But now? Now I understand exactly what he meant.
Because it does fuck you up. It tears down every wall you’ve built, leaves you raw and exposed in ways you didn’t think possible. And no matter how much you try to fight it, it digs in, buries itself so deep that you couldn’t rip it out even if you wanted to.
I love her. I’ve loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her, even if it took me this long to admit it. And it’s not the kind of love that heals. It’s not soft, or easy, or fucking pure. It’s dark and twisted and obsessive, and it consumes every part of me.
Aria stirs in her sleep, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she burrows closer into my chest. I tighten my hold on her, my lips brushing against her temple as I whisper again, “I love you.”
This time, the words feel different. Not just an admission but a promise. A warning. A vow. Because now that I’ve said it, there’s no going back.
With another kiss to the side of her head, I make my way downstairs, the faint creak of the old wood under my boots filling the silence. It’s late, and the garage is quiet, but I know my brothers. They’re night owls, always finding a reason to linger around with a beer in hand.
Sure enough, I step into the living room, and there they are—Matteo sprawled across the couch, Luca leaning against the pool table, both of them grinning like they’ve got something on me.
“Good night?” Matteo asks, raising a brow as he takes a lazy sip of his beer. His smirk is wide, like he already knows the answer.
“Fuck off,” I mutter, grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen counter and twisting the cap off. I can feel their eyes on me, their amusement practically vibrating through the air.
Luca chuckles, shaking his head. “She must’ve been something, huh? You’ve got that post-Aria glow.”
I shoot him a glare, but it only makes them laugh harder. “You two are idiots,” I growl, but the corner of my mouth twitches despite myself.
They live to give me shit, and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Matteo leans forward, setting his beer down on the table. “So, what’s the deal? You finally lock her down, or are you still playing this fucked-up game of tag?”
I take a long sip of water, debating how much to tell them. But there’s no point in holding back. They’re my brothers—they’d figure it out anyway.
“She killed Mandy,” I say flatly, watching their reactions.
There’s a beat of silence before Matteo lets out a low whistle, his grin stretching even wider. “Damn. Didn’t think she had it in her.”
“Clearly, you underestimated her,” I say, leaning against the counter and crossing my arms. “She showed up here, covered in blood, grinning like she’d just won the fucking lottery and held a fucking knife to my throat for touching another woman.”
Matteo stares at me, wide-eyed, for all of two seconds before bursting into laughter. The kind of laughter that shakes his whole body, the kind that pisses me off instantly.
“Jesus Christ, Dom,” he says, leaning back against the couch, wiping at his eyes. “You’ve got yourself a fucking psychopath, and you’re standing there like it’s just another Tuesday.”
“She’s not a psychopath,” I growl, though my voice lacks conviction. I know how it sounds, but hearing Matteo say it like that grates on my nerves.
“Not a psychopath?” Matteo repeats, his grin returning full force. “Brother, she killed the woman you used to make her jealous, strolled in here dripping in blood, and stuck a knife to your throat for looking at said woman. If that’s not the definition of batshit crazy, I don’t know what is.”
“Shut up, Matteo,” I growl, but there’s no real heat behind it. He’s already laughing, and I know he’s about to make it worse.
“No, seriously,” he says, sitting up, his grin refusing to falter. “You’ve got to see the poetry here. You play your little jealousy games, and she turns around and shows you who’s really running shit. I bet you were rock-hard the entire time.”
I glare at him, my arms crossing tighter over my chest. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
Matteo laughs louder, slapping the arm of the couch. “Don’t deny it! You love it, Dom. Don’t act like you weren’t standing there thinking, ‘Finally, a woman as crazy as me.’”
Luca smirks from his spot near the pool table, taking a slow sip of his beer.
“He’s got a point,” he says, his tone calm but cutting. “You’ve never exactly gone for ‘normal.’ And let’s face it—Aria putting a knife to your throat is probably the closest thing to foreplay you’ve had in years.”
“Fuck both of you,” I snap, though the edge in my voice is dulled by the truth of their words. They’re not wrong, and that pisses me off even more.
Matteo shakes his head. “She’s like a damn mirror, isn’t she? All your crazy, all your darkness—wrapped up in a package that looks like she should be asking for forgiveness in a church.”
Luca watches me closely, his voice quieter but no less cutting when he speaks.
“She’s dangerous, but not just because she’s capable. It’s her willingness. The fact that she’s already done it. That she didn’t hesitate and that makes her one of us now,” he exchanges a glance with Matteo, who nods. “And we take care of our own.”
“I’ll clean it up,” Matteo says, grabbing his phone from the table. “Where’s the body?”
“Mandy’s house,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “She didn’t even try to hide it. Just left her there like a warning.”
“Fucking savage. I like her more already.” Matteo chuckles, already tapping at his phone. “We’ll make it disappear. I’ll send a crew to take care of the scene, make it look like a burglary gone wrong.”
I roll my eyes, but their approval settles something in me I didn’t realize I was waiting for. Aria is mine, has always been mine, but hearing my brothers accept her as one of us—it means something. We’re not a family who takes outsiders lightly.
I lean against the counter, arms crossed, the weight of their scrutiny less irritating than usual. They’re my brothers, and if anyone has the right to poke at my wounds, it’s them. But tonight, it’s different.
“You’re quiet,” Matteo says, his tone laced with mockery as he stretches out on the couch, his feet kicking over an empty beer bottle. “That guilt finally catching up to you, or are you too busy thinking about how you’re gonna handle Little Miss Bloodstained upstairs?”
“God, you’re annoying,” I snap, but there’s no real bite in my voice. Matteo lives to push buttons, and I’ve grown too used to it.
Luca smirks, pushing off the edge of the pool table and crossing the room to grab another beer.
“He’s right, though,” he says, popping the cap off with a flick of his wrist. “You’ve got that look on your face. The one that says you’re overthinking instead of acting.”
I glare at Luca as he leans against the counter, sipping his beer like he’s got me all figured out. He always does this—acts like he’s above it all, like he’s the calm, collected one when I know damn well he’s just as twisted as the rest of us. If not more.
“I’m not overthinking shit,” I mutter, my voice rough as I push off the counter and pace again. “I’m just trying to figure out what the hell comes next.”
“What comes next?” Matteo snorts, his grin widening as he sprawls across the couch. “What comes next is you stop pretending you don’t love that she’s as fucked up as you are. You don’t plan for someone like her, Dom. You keep her close, keep her happy, and make damn sure no one else gets the chance to steal her.”
“Matteo’s got a point,” Luca says, his tone casual as he sets his beer down on the counter. “You’ve been looking for control your whole damn life, but with her? You don’t need control. You need chaos. Someone who doesn’t flinch when you bare your teeth.”
“She’s not just chaos,” I say, stopping mid-pace to glare at both of them. “She’s a fucking hurricane. And the only reason she’s not tearing through everything I’ve built is because she wants me.”
“Exactly,” Luca says, his voice calm. “She wants you. Do you know how rare that is? Not your name, not your power, not what you can do for her. Just you.”
I snort, dragging a hand through my hair as I lean against the counter again.
“She doesn’t know anything about our name, Luca. Not what it means, not what it’s cost us to earn the kind of respect we have in this town.” My voice is bitter as I look at both of them. “And she sure as hell doesn’t know what it takes to keep that respect.”
Matteo raises an eyebrow, leaning forward on the couch, his grin slipping into something more serious. “And you think that’s a bad thing? You want her to know everything? To be neck-deep in it?”
“No,” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended. “I want to keep her out of it.”
Luca tilts his head, studying me with that cold, calculating gaze of his. “You’re worried she’ll run,” he says, his voice even, almost detached. “Or are you worried she won’t?”
That question hangs in the air; heavy and suffocating. I glare at him, but the bastard doesn’t flinch. He knows he hit a nerve.
“She won’t run,” I say finally. “That’s not what scares me.”
Matteo shakes his head. “You’re scared she’ll dive right in, aren’t you? That she’ll see the worst of us, of you , and she won’t even flinch.” I don’t answer, but the look on my face must say enough because Matteo barks out a laugh. “Holy shit, Dom. You’ve got yourself a real one.”
I sigh and run a hand over my face. “She doesn’t know we’ve got half the town in our pocket, or that the other half is too scared to cross us. She has no idea what I can really do and thinks I’m just some asshole who runs a garage with his brothers.”
“And that’s a problem?” Luca asks. “She wants you, not the reputation. That’s what you’ve been bitching about wanting your whole life. So what’s the problem?”
“The problem,” I snap, turning to face him, “is that she doesn’t know what happens if someone decides to come for me. She doesn’t know that being mine puts a target on her back.”
Matteo smirks, leaning back again. “And you think she’d give a damn if she did? Dom, she walked into this place with blood on her hands and a knife to your throat. You think she’s scared of a couple of pissed-off rivals?”
“You love her, don’t you?” Luca’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
I freeze and glance at him, but he doesn’t look away. “Yeah,” I admit after a long pause. “I do.”
Matteo whistles again, his grin wide. “Well, shit. Hell just froze over.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter, but there’s no heat in it. They know me too well to be fooled.
Matteo stretches, his grin returning. “Let her find out. Hell, let her see everything. If she’s still here after all the shit you’ve put her through, I doubt a little criminal syndicate drama is gonna scare her off.”
I glare at him, but he just laughs, kicking his feet up on the coffee table again. Luca takes a slow sip of his beer, watching me with that calm, calculating gaze that makes me want to punch something.
“She’s not going anywhere. Hell, she’d probably kill you before she ever left you. And if she did leave, you’d drag her back kicking and screaming because that’s who you are,” Matteo says as he lights a cigarette. “You’re both toxic as fuck like that.”
“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t do the same if it were you,” I shoot back.
“Oh, I would,” Matteo says with a wicked grin. “But this isn’t about me, is it?”
“Enough,” Luca cuts in. “She’s not leaving, Dominic. Not unless you push her away. So don’t.”
I glance at Luca, his expression steady, and Matteo, his grin lingering but less mocking now. It’s rare for them to agree on anything, let alone give me advice I don’t want to punch them for.
“You’ve got it good, Dom,” Matteo says, but there’s something serious in his tone now. “Don’t fuck it up.”
Luca tilts his head, watching me carefully. “She’s dangerous, yeah. But she’s loyal. To you. And loyalty like that is worth every drop of blood you have to spill to keep it.”
I let out a long breath, my shoulders relaxing just a fraction as I finally sit down next to Matteo, dragging a hand through my hair. “You two act like this is easy.”
“It’s not supposed to be,” Luca says simply. “Nothing worth keeping ever is.”
“Fuck, I don’t know how to tell her.” I admit.
“You don’t have to,” Matteo says, smirking. “She’ll figure it out on her own, and when she does, she’ll probably thank you for it.”
“Or stab me again,” I mutter under my breath.
He laughs. “Yeah, maybe. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I flip him off, but the corner of my mouth twitches into a smirk despite myself. For better or worse, they’re right. Aria is already in this, whether I want her to be or not. The only thing left to do is make sure she knows exactly who she belongs to—and what that means.
Matteo raises his cigarette in a mock toast. “To dangerous women who don’t put up with our shit.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember this conversation when one of you two idiots ends up in the same boat.”
Matteo grins. “I’ll pass, thanks. I like my women less stabby.”
Luca just smirks, sipping his beer. “We’ll see.”