Chapter 4 4

Damien's kiss was the kind of sin that rewired logic.

Ruby should've pulled away-every part of her training, her instinct, her very ethics screamed at her to break the contact. To remember who he was. What he was. A mafia kingpin. A manipulator. A devil dressed in tailored suits.

But his lips were fire against hers. His grip in her hair was commanding without being rough, like he was claiming her but still asking for a reaction-still giving her the illusion of choice.

And the worst part?

She kissed him back.

Fiercely.

Hungrily.

Like she'd been starved of heat, of danger, of the kind of thrill only someone like Damien Vitale could offer.

When he finally pulled back, both of them breathless, his eyes searched hers for something. Doubt? Regret? He didn't find it.

"What the hell are we doing?" she whispered, her voice shaking.

"Exactly what we shouldn't," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her lower lip like he wasn't ready to let go of the moment. "But that's what makes it worth it."

Ruby exhaled sharply and stepped back, trying to create space between them, both physical and mental. "This doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?" he asked, his voice low and unhurried.

"No," she insisted, though her voice lacked conviction. "I'm still here for the truth. For the story."

"You'll get your story, bella, but be careful. Truth can destroy just as easily as lies."

She hated that he was right.

Ruby turned away from him, pacing slowly as her thoughts collided. How the hell did one kiss feel like crossing an invisible line? She had come here with questions, a plan, an agenda.

Now?

Now she was tangled in something she couldn't even name.

"Start talking," she said at last. "If you really want me to write the truth, then you're going to have to give me more than cryptic warnings and stolen kisses."

Damien's smile was slow, dangerous. "You want the beginning? Fine."

He walked back around to his desk and opened a drawer. From inside, he pulled a black folder-thick, bound, and stamped with no official mark.

He slid it across the desk to her.

Ruby hesitated, then opened it.

Photos. Names. Timelines. Transactions.

But more than that-evidence.

Proof.

Of Ricci's involvement with the Rossi family. Of hits ordered under his command. Laundered money. Dead witnesses. It was the kind of documentation that could topple a city's law enforcement-or get someone like her killed for even reading it.

She flipped through the pages slowly, feeling a mixture of shock and awe.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Does it matter?"

"It does if I plan on printing any of it."

Damien moved around the desk again and came to stand beside her, his presence wrapping around her like a storm cloud.

"I'm not handing this to you so you can run to your editor, Ruby," he said. "I'm giving you this because Ricci won't stop until he puts a bullet in my skull-and now, he'll be coming for you, too."

The finality in his tone made her stomach knot.

"I didn't ask for this," she whispered.

"No," he said. "But you stepped into it. And now you have a decision to make."

He reached out, gently taking her chin between his fingers and turning her face toward his.

"You can walk away, pretend you saw nothing, and live a quiet life writing about safe stories that don't get you killed. Or you can stay in this world, stay with me... and finish what you started."

There was no pretense in his voice. No charm. Just brutal honesty.

"And if I stay?" she asked quietly.

A slow, dangerous smirk pulled at his lips. "Then I'll protect you from everyone. Except myself."

Ruby stared up at him.

And she knew, in that moment, that she was already in too deep.

Not just with the story.

But with him.

She nodded once, slowly. "I'm not walking away."

Damien's eyes flickered with something unreadable. Respect? Desire? Possession?

"Then welcome to hell, bella mia," he whispered. "Let's burn together."

Damien didn't give Ruby another moment to second-guess her decision.

The second the words left her mouth-"I'm not walking away"-he closed the distance between them again, this time without hesitation. His hand found the small of her back, guiding her closer until she was pressed flush against him, his heat soaking into her skin, his scent-a wicked mixture of spice and danger-filling her senses.

He kissed her again.

Deeper.

Hungrier.

And Ruby, god help her, kissed him back with equal desperation.

She didn't know if it was fear, adrenaline, or something darker pulling her into him, but she didn't care. Right now, the only thing that mattered was the way his mouth moved over hers, the way his hands explored her curves like he was memorizing her, like he needed to brand her into his memory.

He lifted her effortlessly onto the edge of the desk, the cool wood shocking against the backs of her thighs, making her gasp. Damien took advantage of her parted lips, deepening the kiss until Ruby was clinging to him, her nails digging into his shoulders through his expensive suit.

When he finally broke the kiss, they were both panting, their foreheads resting together.

His voice was rough when he spoke. "You drive me fucking insane, Ruby Sinclair."

She shivered at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue, low and dangerous and intimate.

"This isn't smart," she whispered, but her hands betrayed her, fisting in the fabric of his jacket like she couldn't bear to let him go.

"I'm not interested in smart," Damien murmured. His hands slid up her thighs, slow and deliberate, setting her skin on fire. "I'm interested in you."

Ruby's heart thundered painfully in her chest. She should've stopped him. Should've demanded distance, professionalism, anything resembling control.

Instead, she tilted her head back when he kissed along the curve of her jaw, down the side of her neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against her sensitive skin.

"You're dangerous," she breathed, her head swimming.

He chuckled darkly against her throat. "You have no idea."

His hands found the hem of her blouse, slipping beneath it, caressing the bare skin of her waist. Ruby arched into him, a soft, involuntary sound escaping her lips.

Damien pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes burning with a need that made her thighs clench together.

"Say the word," he said hoarsely. "And I'll stop."

Ruby searched his face, finding no mockery there, no smugness. Just raw, brutal honesty.

She knew he would stop. Knew that somehow, despite everything he was, Damien Vitale would never force her.

But she didn't want him to stop.

Not now.

Not when the whole world outside that door was waiting to destroy her.

She wanted to lose herself first.

With him.

"Don't stop," she whispered.

Damien's restraint snapped.

He lifted her off the desk and carried her across the room, kicking open a hidden door she hadn't noticed before. It led into another room-his private quarters, judging by the massive bed dominating the space, the low lighting, the masculine, intoxicating scent that clung to the air.

He set her down gently on the bed, standing over her for a moment, drinking her in.

Ruby's breath caught at the raw hunger in his gaze, like he wanted to consume her whole.

Then he joined her, his mouth claiming hers again, his hands exploring with growing urgency. Buttons popped free from her blouse one by one under his skilled fingers, until the fabric slid down her arms, leaving her in just her lacy black bra.

Damien groaned low in his throat, his hands moving over her, tracing the lines of her body with reverent intensity.

"You're perfect," he rasped against her skin.

Ruby wasn't sure if he meant her body or the fact that she was letting him have her like this, but she didn't care. All she cared about was the way he made her feel-like she was the only thing that mattered in a world built on blood and lies.

Her hands found the buttons of his shirt, working them open clumsily, desperately. She pushed the fabric aside, revealing hard planes of muscle, a scattering of scars across his chest that told silent, brutal stories she didn't dare ask about yet.

He let her explore, his body taut with restraint as she ran her palms over him, memorizing the feel of his skin, the strength coiled beneath it.

When he finally unclasped her bra and slid it down her arms, Ruby shivered-not from fear, but from the way he looked at her, like she was something sacred.

Damien leaned down, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to her collarbone, then lower, worshipping her with his mouth.

Every kiss, every touch, burned through her like wildfire.

She was drowning in him.

And she never wanted to come up for air.

Damien's hands skimmed down her sides, finding the waistband of her skirt, tugging it down with agonizing slowness. Ruby arched her hips, helping him, needing him, every nerve ending in her body on fire.

He tossed the skirt aside and settled between her thighs, his body hard and hot against her.

For a moment, he just looked at her, like he was trying to memorize every detail, every breathless, trembling inch of her.

"Tell me you want this," he said, his voice rough and barely controlled.

"I want this," Ruby whispered.

She didn't have to think. Didn't have to second-guess.

She wanted Damien Vitale.

Consequences be damned.

With a low growl, Damien captured her mouth again, and the last of their barriers shattered completely.