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Chapter 13

Ruin

I see everything. Everything she does and every move she makes.

I always have.

Long before she joined the DEA. Before she set her sights on Reyes like it was a crusade she was born for. I saw her.

The girl who never flinched. Who didn’t try to leash the darkness inside her, but danced with it like it was her favorite fucking song. Everyone else tried to dull her edges, soften her glare. But not me. I was obsessed with every blade she kept sharpened and ready. I didn’t want her tame—I wanted her wild. Untouched by delusion. Unbothered by approval.

Seanna doesn’t apologize for who she is. She never did.

And neither do I.

She walks through life like a goddamn storm, all fury and fire wrapped in a body made to destroy men. Not me, though. I'm no fool to be shattered by her—I want to stand in the onslaught of her storm, become a part of her chaos, and watch her writhe beneath me. Me—and the only other person in the world who could ever hope to truly handle her. My best friend. My shadow. My match in obsession. The day he saw her, really saw her, I knew she wasn’t just mine.

She was ours.

She still doesn’t know it. Not yet. But she will.

Right now, she’s sliding into her car, her face set with the kind of quiet, lethal focus that would make weaker men piss themselves. She doesn’t notice the camera tucked near the dashboard. She never will.

Soon enough I’m switching screens. From her car to the hallway of the building her parents turned into their headquarters a long time ago. I’ve been in the system for years. Their precious “Organization” is secure from the rest of the world—but not me. Their tech? Laughable. Max is decent, sure, but compared to me?

He’s a fucking dinosaur.

I watch her stride through the corridors like she owns the place—and she does. Her boots echo like a metronome of violence, hips swaying with purpose, jaw tight. People part around her like she’s royalty, and in a way, she is. The queen of carnage. The patron saint of vengeance.

Our Queen.

She heads straight to Max’s office. I unmute the feed, listening as she updates him on Cruz. and the meeting tomorrow. The possibility she’ll go dark. I already knew all this. But hearing her say it—hearing that tight rasp in her voice, like she’s fighting exhaustion with sheer will—makes my blood stir.

She doesn’t mention me. Not the notes. Not the flowers. Not the polaroids I left across her bed like a shrine.

Good girl.

Keep them secret. Keep us private. Because you know, don’t you? This isn’t just some stalker in the shadows.

This is personal.

Max rambles on about helping Hydessa, chasing ghosts, digital breadcrumbs—whatever. I tune him out. Hydessa isn’t my concern. She’s not like Seanna. She hides from the shadows, like they aren’t a part of her soul.

Seanna? She knows better.

She tells Max she’ll check in when she can—if Cruz buys her cover. Spoiler alert, sweetheart: he won’t. Not fully. Not the way she wants, and that’s an even greater risk. Going after Reyes is a suicide mission, and we aren’t going to let her continue on that path of destruction. If she doesn't stop, we'll be forced to intervene. She won't like it, but she'll understand eventually.

She leaves Max’s office and heads down the hall. I follow her every step, eyes tracking her from screen to screen. She dips into the wardrobe room, selects her armor—something sleek, dark, dangerous. It’ll make her look like temptation and wrath had a baby.

Perfect.

But she doesn’t leave right away. She pauses near the training room, drawn by familiar laughter and the clash of combat. Bodhi and Jaxon spar aggressively, while Kayla sits nearby, offering sarcastic commentary that has the guys laughing even as they try to land hits. Seanna leans against the doorway, arms folded, observing with quiet amusement.

Thorn catches sight of her and grins, deliberately flexing and raising an eyebrow. "Come to see how it's done, Seanna?" he taunts playfully. Jaxon snorts, rolling his eyes as he tries to get the upper hand against Bodhi.

"Maybe she's scared she's lost her touch," Jaxon teases, barely dodging a punch from Bodhi. Seanna smiles faintly, clearly unimpressed but entertained by their attempts to provoke her.

Kayla shoots Seanna a conspiratorial look, silently encouraging her to join in the humiliation of their overly confident teammates. But Seanna merely shakes her head, effortlessly throwing back a sarcastic remark about not needing to embarrass them any further tonight. Her words spark laughter from Kayla and groans from Thorn and Jaxon, both feigning wounded pride.

I’ve seen enough. They don't deserve her attention or her quick wit. She belongs to us.

I send her a message.

UNKNOWN

Stop flirting with men who will never understand your darkness. They’ll never deserve it the way we do.

She pulls her phone from her pocket and goes completely still. Her eyes immediately dart around, scanning for something out of place, something unseen. Good. You can feel me, can’t you?

She finds the camera easily, staring straight into it as though she can see me there.

Atta girl.

She types something back:

Tell me you’re a delusional little voyeur without telling me... Cameras now too? Jesus fucking christ. Stroke your obsession a little harder, why don’t you?

Her words drip with playful venom, designed to challenge and provoke. I chuckle deeply, appreciating her defiance.

Bodhi notices her shift in mood, questioning if she's alright. She dismisses his concern casually, quickly regaining her composure and walking away as they watch after her curiously.

Hopefully she’s starting to understand.

Nothing in her life will ever be the same.

Not now.

Not with me—us—in the picture.

She’s walking toward danger, convinced Reyes is the endgame.

But Reyes is a footnote.

We are the real reckoning.

And she’ll learn soon enough:

She doesn’t get to choose how this ends.

Because Seanna Darling may be the fire…

But I am her Ruin.