Page 132 of Velvet Corruption

It wasn’t kindness; it wasn’t a threat either. It wascontrol. Quiet, unshakable control. He didn’t ask what I wanted. He didn’t need to. He was already making the decisions.

The man he’d killed had tried to murder me…and that should have meant something. I guessed it did. If Kieran hadn’t been watching my house, if he hadn’t intervened, I would be dead right now. But the way Kieran said it—as if the cleanup crew was just another part of the plan—made my skin crawl.

He was talking about a corpse while standing in my kitchen, and somehow, he made it sound like comfort.

He’d saved me. That was true.

He’d also destroyed everything, and now he had complete control over me.

I stared down at the sink, the stainless steel cool beneath my hands. My knuckles were white where they gripped the edge, every muscle in my body drawn tight. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let him see the confusion and anger that were fighting their own battle just beneath the surface.

Another drip. Another breath.

I swallowed again, the motion painful. I could still feel the shadows of Russell’s hands there, a ghost of violence that lingered even after the events of the night had ended. The bruises were darkening, spreading like spilled ink across my skin, each one a reminder that I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was.

That I needed help.

The thought made my stomach twist.

“Ruby.”

Kieran’s voice broke through the fog, the single word spoken with a calm patience that unraveled something inside of me. I didn’t turn to face him, not yet. I let the silence stretch until it felt like a living thing between us, until I could pretend that I was still the one in control.

But I wasn’t.

We both knew it.

The dripping faucet marked time, a slow and steady rhythm that grated on my chaotic thoughts. I exhaled through my nose, trying to force my body to relax, but the tension coiled tighter instead.

“What do you want?” I repeated, my voice a hoarse whisper.

“I want you to fucking shower, because if you don’t, you’ll stay like this,” Kieran replied, his tone infuriatingly steady. “Stuck in your own head.”

I wanted to laugh, to spit back some retort that would shut him up and send him away, but the words wouldn’t come. My throat closed around them, around the truth that he’d spoken, and I was left with nothing but the sound of that damn dripping faucet.

I needed to wash the night off.

He was right.

But I hated him for saying it.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” I said finally, forcing the words past the tightness in my chest.

Kieran didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he let the silence stretch again, his presence solid and unyielding behind me. He was a wall I couldn’t get around, a force I couldn’t ignore. And I hated that more than anything.

“Not all,” he said at last. “But enough to know you’re not doing yourself any favors right now.”

The honesty in his voice cut through my defenses, leaving me raw and exposed. I clenched my teeth, trying to hold onto the anger, trying to use it to push him away, but it slipped through my fingers like smoke.

Like everything else.

“Then maybe you don’t know as much as you think you do,” I muttered, though the words sounded weak even to my own ears. But he didn’t, did he?

Rosie was his daughter.

He didn’t know.