Page 58 of Shades of Ruin (Sharp Edges Duet #2)

Grey stares off into the distance, his expression unreadable. “I’m not really sure where to start,” he admits finally.

“Start at the beginning.”

And so he does.

“Ten years ago, a young boy left Chicago and traveled to Paris for the first time. It all felt golden and new, and he fell in love with everything he tasted and saw and touched. Eventually, a girl crossed his path when he was trying to become the best chef he could be. The girl was a distraction that couldn’t be ignored, no matter how hard he tried.

“She was a mystery to him, everything about her coy, seductive nature luring him in like a challenge he was fixated on solving. There were times when the girl was sweet as cherries, and the boy thought he’d found love for the first time.

But she was an illusion—a pretty, sweet, delicate facade that concealed a rotten, poisonous core.

“The boy offered her everything he had, and she turned him away.

The boy tried to save her in the only way he knew how—with violence and blood and vengeance.

The golden girl loved to see the young boy hurt and kill for her, but she had no real love to offer him.

So he sent her away and poured all of his pain and love into his food.

And eventually, he did become the best chef he could be.

“The young boy grew older. He returned to the home he left to start again. He worked hard until he eventually had everything he thought he wanted. But a piece of his happiness was missing. He felt empty until the day a pretty, ruined angel fell into his life and set his broken heart beating once more. Suddenly, that piece he knew was missing fit right where it was supposed to be, and he’d never felt so whole.

“The boy thought the golden girl had forgotten him, but she hadn’t.

She found a child who reminded her of the young boy.

She raised him in fear and cruelty. Her secrets grew darker over time.

Her love of suffering and pain blossomed into madness.

Eventually, she started to take the hearts of those she knew belonged to the boy—the people he cared about.

She thought if she could hurt him enough, she could break him and pick up the pieces for herself.

“But she could never break him. Because this time, the boy wasn’t alone. He had his fallen angel by his side. And with her, he would never break again. ”

I stare at him, my heart twisting at the tragic story of how Grey came to be this sharp-edged version of himself. I would never change him—but I wish I could change the pain and heartbreak that’s shaped him.

“So Tobias isn’t your son?” I ask, trying to sift through the bits and pieces of vital information that he’s strung together like a dark fairytale.

“No, she adopted him shortly after I left her. I understand why she wanted to torment me with the lie of having a son, but I can’t explain why she told him I was his father.

He’s been raised to believe his father is a famous chef who never wanted him.

He’s been raised to believe that a vile bitch is his mother.

The poor kid would have been better off never knowing either of us. ”

I flinch from how hard he is being on himself.

“I don’t think that’s true,” I argue. “You’ve not seen the way Tobias looks up to you.

You’re the father he’s always wanted. He doesn’t want anything more than for you to be a part of his life.

” Grey’s blue eyes capture mine, reminding me of the boy who isn’t truly his by blood.

“What right do I have to fuck up his life any more than Aurélie already did?”

“You would be an improvement on the blonde bitch at the very least,” I respond, knowing he’s not in the right mindset to hear what a great dad he would be. And he would be, if that was something he and Tobias both wanted.

“Speaking of Aurélie,” I hesitate, not sure if I’m ready to hear the answer. “You said she took the hearts of those you cared about. Was that a metaphor or—or is she the killer?”

“She murdered Satine Daubert, Collette Roche, and Sophie du Maurier. There are likely other victims, but those are the names I know.”

“Sophie too?” I gasp in shock, remembering how the sorrow of her death almost broke him .

He sighs, his eyes bleak. “Yeah, Sophie too. And that’s not even fucking all. Do you remember when you entered the Dix competition? They gave you the position of ten before ripping it away?”

“Yes,” I answer slowly, anxious about where this is headed.

“She stole your spot ten years ago. Her husband financed the restaurant, and they pressured the executive chef into letting her compete instead of you. You earned that spot in the kitchen with the rest of us. And you were meant to be mine all those years ago, it just took me ten years to find you again.”

I gape at him in shock. Aurélie ripped such a significant culinary opportunity away from me without a second thought.

My whole life would have been so different if I’d been able to escape to Paris when things with Tío were at their worst. I wouldn’t be a murderer.

Maybe I wouldn’t be so broken. And I would have spent the last decade with the man who owns every piece of my damaged heart.

In a way, I feel like I’m mourning the life we could have had like it’s another victim—just another casualty in Aurélie’s toxic trail of destruction.

“How the fuck has she gotten away with it all?” I ask, not sure how one twisted person can cause so much misery.

“Money. Power. Prominence. They’re the reasons she told me her first husband would never be held accountable for his abuse. I suppose she took it as a sort of life guide. In the end, she became everything he was and so much worse.”

I can tell he blames himself for the monster she’s become, and I need to know why. “What happened to her first husband?”

“I killed him.” The words sound dead on his lips—not a drop of emotion or remorse to spare for the life he ended.

“Well, butchered is probably a more accurate word to describe how Blaise Moreau died that night.

I lured him to a boucherie on a side of Paris the rich bastard never would have stepped foot in on his own.

I strung him up. Peeled the flesh from his bones. Bled him. Gutted him.

“And in a sick twist of irony, I ground up bits of the worthless prick and turned him into a rather delicious batch of sausages. And you know what? That dish won me the position of sous at Dix when I was twenty-two and didn’t have a scrap of formal culinary training.

That worthless pig helped get me where I am today, and I don’t even regret a moment of it. ”

Grey’s eyes are lit with the darkest sort of humor. “You asked me to scare you when we first met. How am I doing now, angel?”

“The world is full of bad men, and you took the total down by one. You think I’m scared?

” I scoff. “I laced a merengón con cerezas with cyanide and watched a man I’d known my entire life die on the kitchen floor in a puddle of his own vomit, piss, and shit.

If we’re comparing sins, I’d say we’re about even now. ”

Grey blinks at me, not sure why I’m taking his confession so calmly. “Did I mention I cut off his dick?” he adds, still trying to make me shudder in revulsion.

“What is this, a competition now?” I roll my eyes. “I dismembered Tío with a wood saw in the bathtub one piece at a time—starting with his dick and ending with his head, which was half-rotted by then.”

“Fine, you win,” Grey concedes with his hands raised in surrender.

“Thank you.” I grab another donut from the box to celebrate my well-earned victory. “How did you dispose of dear Mr. Moreau, apart from the sausages?”

Grey shrugs. “Incinerator.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“So now what?” Grey asks. “You know all my deep, dark secrets, and you’re still not running.”

“Not a chance.” I slide both my hands over his muscular thighs and lean in to give him a kiss. “Guess you’re stuck with me, chef.”

“I can think of worse things,” he rumbles right before flipping me onto my back with my head resting in his lap, nearly crushing the almost empty box of donuts between my thighs.

His mouth crashes onto mine, the angle awkward because I’m upside down, but I want his touch so much that I don’t care.

I can feel the thickness of his erection jabbing into my skull, and it makes me wish I was lying on my stomach so I could taste him on my tongue.

Our kiss is vicious and violent, hard teeth knocking into soft lips, and when he finally pulls away, I taste blood in my mouth—his or mine, I can’t tell.

Grey drags his fingers down the side of my throat, and I gaze up at him from the cushion of his thighs to plead for more.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, his voice heavy and deep.

I obey without thinking, stretching out my jaw and flicking my tongue over my parted lips to tempt him.

Suddenly, he shoves a donut into my mouth, pressing all the way back until he can’t fit any more.

“Don’t bite down. Just keep it in your mouth. ”

He slides me off his lap and leaves me with my back on the couch and my mouth stuffed far too full.

I can feel him behind, but I can’t see him.

I whip my head from side to side, trying to figure out what he’s planning to do.

My mouth is starting to salivate thanks to the donut, and I can feel drool trickle down my chin and cheeks.

I’m sure I look like a complete mess—and that’s exactly how he likes me.

I hear the tell-tale sound of a belt unbuckling and a zipper sliding down.

Instant heat pools between my thighs, and I spread my legs wider for him.

I wish I’d thought to take off my panties before he got home, but I’m still wearing my button-up and jeans from work.

Seeming to sense what I want, Grey’s hands land on my jeans, and he strips them off before tugging down my lacy thong.

We both know my thong is soaked through .

I can see his thick cock from the corner of my eye, his fist sliding up and down his swollen shaft as he stares at me.

Deciding I’m not naked enough, he attacks my shirt next, ripping the buttons from the holes and leaving my heaving chest exposed.

He yanks down my black bra so my tits spill out, my nipple piercings on full display.

It’s still too early to play with them, but I know he likes to watch his diamonds sparkle in the light.

“So fucking gorgeous,” Grey growls, raking his fingers down my stomach and thighs as he circles around me. I try to follow him with my eyes as he walks and rubs his cock slowly enough to torture me, but eventually he dips out of sight.

In a moment, he’s behind me again, and I feel my head shift as he mounts the couch on his knees.

When I look up again, his beautiful cock is hanging above my face, hard and dripping with need.

“Hold your head up, angel. I’m going to glaze that donut in your mouth and watch my cum drizzle all over your pretty face. ”

The way my cunt clenches at his filthy words is absolutely shameless.

I hold my chin up high, trying to give him the perfect target to shoot his load.

I wish I could see more of his body as he strokes his cock harder, but I satisfy myself with the sweet sound of his whimpers as he brings himself close to the edge.

A loud groan is the only warning I have before warm, thick streams of cum splatter over my face, coating the donut along with my cheeks.

“ Goddamn if that isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Grey praises with the utmost adoration in his voice.

He hovers over me before bending down and snatching half the donut from my mouth with his teeth.

Small droplets of cum cling to his lips as he chews and swallows the spunk-soaked donut, moaning deep in his throat like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted .

I think I come a little when his tongue flicks out and licks the last of his cream from his lips.

“Go ahead and swallow, little ruin,” Grey tells me at last, and I chew the soaked piece of donut that’s been sitting in my mouth for far too long. It’s not the most appetizing texture, but something about the heat in Grey’s eyes as he watches me makes my mouth water for more.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Grey admits, a smug grin on his face as he helps me into an upright position. He tucks me against his side and wraps his arms around me tight. I’m half-naked and covered in cum and sugar, and somehow he makes me feel like I’ve never been prettier.

“And here I thought you didn’t like your food being a soggy mess,” I tease, giving him a jab in the ribs as I tilt my head up to playfully glare at him.

“I think I improved upon your original concept, chef.”

He bends down and kisses me until I’m desperate with pent-up need.

Moaning, I break free from his lips and twist until I’m straddling his still hard cock, my knees on either side of his hips.

I rock against him, letting the head of his cock slide between my wet folds.

“I think it’s my turn to play with my food, chef. ”

“What did you have in mind, angel?” he asks, biting down on his bottom lip in anticipation.

“A new play on donut holes. Still hungry?”

Grey’s crystalline eyes flare with hunger. “Absolutely starved.”