Page 225 of Ruin Me With Lies

Well.That explains the twenty-plus missed calls.

They burned out Lucy’s tattoo.And there’s no question who’s behind it.No mistaking The O’s men.Those motherfuckers are built different.

I had Lucy inked asCastello’s Propertyafter the Vale mess.Not for kicks.But as a reminder, a clear line in the sand for her.So she knows where her allegiance lies the next time war comes knocking.That’s all.

Does Soraya think I’mwithher?Is that why she won’t come to me?

I pull up Lucy’s number, but my thumb hovers over the call button.Ishouldcheck on her… But if I do, I’m walking right into Soraya’s trap.

That move was to send a message, stake her claim.Last night, I told Soraya I was done chasing her.So if I go running toLucynow…the next visit she receives might not be as harmless.

Message received, Soraya.You don’t like to share.

~

DAYS FLY BYwith nothing from her.No subtle signs, no violent messages.

Or maybe I’ve just been too damn busy to notice.The Volador launch was a hit, and the events that followed demanded my undivided attention.Then came a fresh batch of girls at the villa.Then Bratton and Angelina Bachmann dropped in for a weekend visit—we pulled out all the stops for them.

Two eventful, fast-paced weeks of meetings, deals, negotiations, strong-arming, and a bit of bloodshed.

Then, out of nowhere, I jolt awake from a midnight nap in my office at Black Gold.Heart hammering, breath short.Borderline gasping as a deep, agonizing ache rips through my chest with brutal force, as if it’s been lying in wait for the perfect moment to hit.To catch me off guard.

What the fuck...

Suddenly, it all feels too quiet.Static.Lonely.Empty.Dark.

An intense, soul-squeezing yearning slams into me.

Fuck.

I’m here again.Right back where I was before I met her.Craving death.Done with living.Ready for it all to end.

How the fuck has no one killed me yet?Am I really that good at life?At surviving?After all the shit I’ve done, all the enemies I’ve made,no one’shad the guts to walk up and shoot me in the fucking face?

My Ruger calls to me from the coffee table.One bullet.Just one bullet and I could have it.Blissful nothingness.

Fuckingfuck.

I need her.

Tolive,I need her.

My body is moving before my mind can catch up.Next thing I know, I’m in the back alley behind Black Gold, ripping the car keys from Oscar’s hands.

“Boss, please, let me drive y—”

I slam the door in his face, shutting out his protest.It’s been ages since I drove myself, but I need to go alone.If I’m right about this, then bringing anyone along could be a fatal mistake.Collateral damage.

Heart hammering, I throw the car in reverse and peel out of the alley.Time to face the drive I’ve been avoiding.

The landscape shifts from city lights to wilderness.Until I’m deep in pines and peaks.Until the looming, unyielding thirty-foot wall comes into view.A fortress set against the thirsty, forested mountains.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and press the gas, speeding forward.The roads grow wilder, rougher.Pine trees stretch high overhead, rugged peaks rear in the distance, and I swerve around scattered shrubs and jagged rocks on the dry, uneven earth.

Then…static.

The radio crackles, garbled noise spilling through the speakers.A second later, the dashboard flickers.Then everything cuts out.