Chapter 3 3

Ruby felt her heart pound so violently it almost drowned out his voice. Damien Vitale's words weren't just chilling-they were seductive. Not in the traditional, charming sense, but in the way danger lured you in and made you want to touch it, just once, even if it burned.

She stared down at the phone again, the images still glaring on the screen. Ricci wasn't the white knight he pretended to be. She'd suspected he was crooked, but this-this was damning.

And Damien knew exactly what kind of power he had just handed her.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she set the phone back on the table. "You could have just let me run with the wrong story. Let me take Ricci's bait and crash and burn."

"I could have," he said, his voice silk wrapped around steel. "But where's the fun in that?"

Ruby blinked, stunned for a moment. "Fun?"

He leaned in, resting his elbows on the table again, and this time his voice dropped an octave. "You came into my world thinking you could expose me. You have fire, Ruby Sinclair. And fire either dies... or it gets fed."

Her breath caught. She didn't know if it was fear or fascination clenching her stomach, but either way, she couldn't look away.

"You're feeding mine," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

Damien's gaze flicked to her lips, and for a fraction of a second, his expression shifted-like the mask he wore cracked just enough for her to see something beneath it. Something unguarded.

Then it was gone.

"You have a choice now," he said. "You can walk out of here with your pretty little notebook and play the part of the betrayed journalist. Or..."

He let the word dangle, heavy with implication.

Ruby swallowed. "Or what?"

"Or you stay."

She stared at him.

"Stay?"

"I'll give you the truth. All of it," he said, his eyes locked on hers. "But it comes at a price."

Her skin prickled. "What price?"

His gaze burned into her. "Trust."

The word lingered in the air like smoke.

She shook her head. "You want me to trust you?"

"I don't care if you do," he said coolly. "But you'll have to pretend you do if you want access to what I'm offering. That means you'll work from my side. Stay close. That means no more Ricci. No more sneaking around. You'll come directly to me for anything you want to know."

"And in return?" she asked carefully.

"In return," he said, reaching for his whiskey again, "you stay alive."

It wasn't a joke. It wasn't even a threat. It was a fact.

Ruby leaned back, running a hand through her hair, her thoughts tumbling over each other.

He was asking her to give up her independence. Her objectivity. Her safety.

But he was offering the one thing she wanted more than anything else-the truth.

And something else, too. Something unspoken.

An unshakable, magnetic pull between them.

"Why me?" she asked suddenly. "Why not someone else? Someone already inside your world?"

Damien studied her for a long beat, then said softly, "Because you're not afraid of me. Not yet."

Her lips parted.

She didn't know what disturbed her more-his words or the fact that part of her wanted to stay.

She'd come for answers. But now, she was being offered something far more dangerous: access.

To his world.

To him.

Her voice was quiet when she finally said, "Okay. I'll stay."

His jaw ticked, just slightly. "Say it again."

She met his gaze. "I'll stay."

Damien nodded once. "Then you belong to me now, bella."

And for the first time, the danger didn't feel like something outside of her.

It felt like it was already inside her.

Taking root.

And growing.

Ruby didn't realize she was holding her breath until Damien's words sank in-"You belong to me now, bella."

It should have felt suffocating, invasive. Possessive in a way that made her recoil.

But it didn't.

Instead, it settled over her like a whisper she didn't want to ignore.

She didn't belong to anyone. Not her editor, not Ricci, not even the truth. But with Damien...

It wasn't ownership. It was something else. Something dangerous and electric, like being pulled into a storm you had no intention of surviving.

"I didn't agree to be owned," she murmured.

Damien's lips twitched as he swirled his drink. "Ownership is such a crude word. Let's call it... protection."

"From Ricci?" she asked.

He leaned back lazily, but his eyes were razor-sharp. "From everyone."

Before she could answer, Damien stood, slowly, and extended a hand toward her. "Come with me."

Ruby hesitated, her mind racing. But her body moved before her thoughts could catch up, and she took his hand. His grip was firm, warm, and confident-like he already knew she wouldn't pull away.

He guided her out of the velvet booth and down the private corridor at the back of the club. Music throbbed faintly through the walls, but here, it was quiet-too quiet. Her heels clicked against the floor with every step.

A pair of suited men stood at the end of the hallway, nodding at Damien before unlocking a steel-plated door.

Damien didn't look back as he led her inside.

It wasn't what she expected.

No interrogation room. No luxurious lounge dripping with wealth.

It was... a study. Dark wood bookshelves, dim amber lighting, and a massive desk surrounded by leather chairs. A private sanctuary, carved out of chaos.

He let go of her hand only when they were inside, locking the door behind them.

"You want the truth?" he said, moving behind the desk. "Then you need context. You need to understand who you're standing in front of."

She stayed on her feet, unsure if she should sit. "Fine. Tell me your story."

Damien's eyes darkened with something that almost looked like amusement. Or pain. She couldn't tell.

He poured himself another drink and gestured toward the second glass. She ignored it.

"My father was the real devil," he began, his tone detached, like he'd told this story before but never to someone like her. "Cold. Calculating. He used people like chess pieces and discarded them the second they stopped being useful."

Ruby remained silent. She didn't dare interrupt.

"He built this empire with blood and terror. And when he died, every enemy he ever made came for me." Damien paused, lifting the glass to his lips. "So I made them regret it."

Ruby felt a chill run down her arms.

"You killed them?"

"I destroyed them," he said softly. "Piece by piece. I didn't inherit this world-I took it. And I run it the only way I know how."

He came around the desk, stopping inches from her.

"And what way is that?" she asked, her voice tight.

"Through fear," Damien said. "And loyalty. And sometimes, through temptation."

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and something electric passed between them again.

"You're not what I expected," he said quietly.

"Neither are you."

He smiled faintly. "Then maybe we're even."

Ruby stepped back, needing space-air. But the room suddenly felt too small, too hot.

"This was supposed to be a story," she whispered.

"Then write it," he said, voice low and dangerous. "But don't pretend you're just observing anymore. You crossed the line the moment you walked into this room."

His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His touch was barely there, but it made her entire body tense.

"I could ruin you," she breathed.

"I know," he said. "But the real question is..."

He leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek.

"Do you want to?"

Ruby's chest rose and fell in shallow bursts. The question echoed in her head, louder than the beat of her heart.

She should say yes. She should.

But instead, her voice trembled when she said, "I don't know anymore."

And then-he kissed her.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet.

It was claiming. A fierce, possessive pull of mouths and breath and heat, like he had been waiting for her to break and now that she had, he would never let go.

Her hands found his chest, gripping his shirt, but she didn't push him away. She pulled him closer.

And Damien responded with a low growl in his throat, his hand tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss.

It was madness.

It was wrong.

And she didn't want it to stop.

Not yet.

Not when the devil himself had just marked her with his kiss.