Ruby
---
I was heading back to the villa with Adam when Luna's name flashed on my phone. I picked up, voice calm.
"Yeah?"
Her tone wasn't.
"Ruby, Aveline's not at home. Where is she?"
I frowned. "She was there this morning… probably out for dance practice?"
Luna snapped, "Forget that. You and Adam—go to Warehouse No. 6. Now."
My eyebrow twitched. Warehouse 6? That was my territory. My gut didn't like the sound of this.
"Someone out warehouse on fire". Luna said and I cut the call I dunno why but I was kept calling Aveline I was having bad feeling.
I knew something was wrong the moment I saw the trees.
The woods were too quiet.
Too still.
Even the crows were gone.
The wind?
It carried smoke.
My heart dropped.
"She's inside," Adam said. "warehouse. It's burning, ruby."
Burning.
That damn building—old, all wood, abandoned for decades and now roaring alive like some demon decided to breathe fire through every crack.
I didn't wait.
I RAN.
Branches whipped my arms. Ash rained like black snow.
And then I saw it.
The warehouse.
Engulfed.
Screaming.
Flames climbed the beams like wild animals. The windows shattered from the heat, coughing out smoke like a dying monster.
Adam shouted behind me—protocol, perimeter, wait for backup.
Fuck protocol's.
The flames crackled like demons whispering their sins. And all I could see—through the broken glass window stained with soot and fury—was inside.
My wife.
On her knees, screaming into the smoke. Her voice was ragged, her hands slammed against the floor like it could somehow crack open and free her. Her hair clung to her cheeks, her chest heaved with panic, and her body? It looked so small. So fucking breakable.
But her eyes—God, those eyes weren't broken. They were alive. They searched the inferno. For me. Always me.
"Shit. Shit. Shit!" I growled, heart hammering out of rhythm. My blood was ice and fire at once.
Adam skidded to my side, boots sliding through the forest mud. "The door's locked from outside! I'll get the axe—"
"Do it," I barked. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't breathing. I was moving.
I slammed my shoulder into the wooden door—splinters biting skin—while Adam grabbed the axe. The fire fed on the dry timber like a starved animal. Heat slapped me in waves. Smoke curled around the building like a noose.
"She's in there! She's in fucking there!" Luna's voice crackled through my earpiece. I heard the screech of tires. Backup was close. Too slow.
"Doesn't matter," I snapped. "She's mine."
Adam swung hard—CRACK. The door trembled.
Again—THUD.
Again—SNAP.
And then I saw her through the gap. On the floor. Whimpering my name like a prayer.
The door burst open and I charged in.
"AVELINE!" My voice tore through the heat, through the sirens in my head, through the fire gods that tried to block my path. She turned. Her arms reached. And suddenly nothing else mattered.
I lunged, scooped her into my arms. Her skin was burning but not from fire—it was panic, grief, fear. I held her like glass. Like blood. Like everything.
"Ruby," she gasped, arms latching around my neck. "I—I thought—"
"Don't talk." My voice cracked like the wood around us. "Don't you dare talk. I got you."
A flaming plank crashed behind us. I spun and threw my shoulder up to shield her. The fire kissed my back—sang its love song into my skin. But I didn't let go.
My sleeves rolled up, arm burning from a grazing beam, but I didn't flinch. A plank fell between us and the exit. I kicked it. Didn't work. I picked it up—flames and all—and hurled it across the room with bare hands.
Flesh sizzled. I didn't care.
Her sobs choked into my collarbone. "You came."
I kissed her forehead, running like hell. "Of course I fucking came. Even if hell was here—I'd set it on fire for you."
Outside, the world exploded with noise—Luna yelling, guards moving, water hoses blasting. But in my ears, there was only her.
Aveline.
And the smell of burnt skin and obsession.
---
The fire didn't touch her. Not a single scratch. Not a bruise. Not a f**king ash stain.
I made sure of that.
Me? My arms were burned. My back? Scorched from when that beam came down and I threw it off with bare hands. The adrenaline hadn't worn off yet. I didn't feel the pain.
Not the physical one.
But the other?
Yeah. That was crawling in my veins like acid.
She sat quietly in the SUV, knees tucked to her chest like some scared little thing. She didn't say anything. Neither did I.
Because if I opened my mouth, I'd say something I can't take back.
Because if I looked at her, I'd probably break something.
Like the steering wheel. Or her f**king heart. Or both.
I was mad. Mad beyond language. Mad enough to throw the entire world in a pit just to scream at her safely.
We pulled up to the villa.security.guards. I didn't wait for a single damn soul.
I swung the door open, stepped out with her in my arms like she was glass that already shattered once today.
She didn't struggle. Just rested her cheek against my shoulder, as if she didn't just almost die.
I walked inside. Straight to our room. No words. No glance.
And when we crossed that doorway, I set her down.
Then grabbed her wrist.
Hard. Harsh. No softness this time.
She looked at me—eyes wide, lips parted like she wanted to explain.
I didn't want to hear it.
"You're so fucking dumb," I hissed under my breath.
She blinked, but I didn't care.
I shoved her inside the room, not roughly but with force.
Then I slammed the door shut.
Locked it.
And then?
I dropped to the floor. Right outside that door. My back against it. Burned arm resting on my knee. Blood sticking to my shirt, but I didn't care.
The fire didn't kill me.
But this silence might.
From inside, her voice cracked through the door.
"Ruby!"
I closed my eyes.
"Ruby, open the door—please—"
She was crying. I could hear it.
I bit my tongue.
She doesn't get it. She never gets it.
How many times?
How many fucking times do I have to run into the flames for her?
What if Adam hadn't brought the axe? What if we were late by a minute? What if she suffocated before I even got there?
And the worst part?
She didn't even scream for help. She screamed my name.
"RUBY!" she shouted again. "I—just—talk to me—!"
I leaned my head back against the wood. Let the burn sting down my spine.
Let it remind me of what I almost lost.
Because if I go in now...
If I look at her now...
I'll shatter.
I'll break all over her.
I'll scream at her.
I'll cry like a maniac.
Or worse—I'll forgive her too fast.
No. Not yet.
"Ruby..." she sobbed now. "Please... I thought I was gonna die... I thought you weren't coming... I—"
"Stop talking," I muttered to myself. "Just stop... please..."
She doesn't understand.
I'm not sitting out here because I hate her.
I'm sitting out here because I love her too much to go in and unleash hell.
Because if I go in now?
I'll do one of two things:
Scream at her...
Or fall to my knees and beg her never to scare me like that again.
And honestly?
Both feel like losing.
---
Hours passed like lifetimes.
I sat outside our bedroom, the heavy mahogany door shut between me and the woman I loved more than my own damn sanity. My arm throbbed. My back burned. But nothing hurt more than the image of Aveline—screaming inside that blazing warehouse like a banshee trapped in hell.
She was screaming now too.
My name.
Over.
And over.
And over.
"Ruby—! Ruby, please! Please open the door!"
God.
Her voice was cracked.
Soaked in desperation.
But if I see her right now... I don't know what I'll do.
I leaned my head back against the wall, fists clenched, blood still crusted on my knuckles from the fire, from the way I'd broken through like a madwoman.
I protected her.
I always do.
Not a single scratch on her.
But me?
I fucking burned.
And she?
She walked into that fire.
No permission. No message. No second thought.
What if I had been late? What if we didn't see that tip? What if Adam hadn't been there with that goddamn axe?
She could've died.
My wife could've died.
Something inside me cracked like dry wood.
I stood. My hand reached for the doorknob.
I hesitated.
Then—twisted.
The lock clicked.
The door creaked open.
She was there, curled on the bed, eyes red, face puffy, hugging one of my jackets like a lifeline. The moment she saw me, she shot up.
"Ruby—!"
"Why the fuck did you go there!?"
My voice roared across the room like a whip, and her mouth dropped open in shock.
I slammed the door behind me and took two slow, heavy steps toward her.
"You wanna die? Huh? Was that your big fucking plan?"
"N-No! I—"
"Then tell me why, Aveline," I growled. "Why the fuck did you walk into a trap? Who told you to go there? Was it that bastard again? Was it Kim Da Hyun?"
She shook her head furiously. "I—I got a call—it said someone needed help—"
"That someone was you!" I barked, voice breaking mid-sentence. "You were the goddamn bait!"
She flinched.
I raised my hand—halfway. My fingers trembled in the air, hovering for a second like the ghost of rage. Her eyes widened. I saw the fear flicker behind her lashes.
And just like that, my fury snapped like glass.
I couldn't.
I wouldn't.
My hand dropped, fingers curling into a useless fist at my side. I turned away from her, dragging my hand across my face. My skin stung from the burns. My eyes burned hotter.
"I almost hit you…" I whispered.
Aveline stood still. Barefoot. Breathing hard. Tears slipping down her cheeks again.
"But you didn't," she whispered, walking to me.
I backed up. "Don't come close."
"Ruby—"
"Don't."
She stopped. The silence was a brutal kind of loud.
I wanted to destroy the room.
Throw something.
Break the mirror.
Punch the wall.
Shake her.
Kiss her.
Hold her and cry like a child.
But instead, I leaned on the dresser and stared out the window. Moonlight bled across the wooden floor.
"I went through hell to protect you, Aveline," I said, voice low and laced with venomous calm. "And you keep walking right into it."
"I didn't mean to—"
"I don't care what you meant," I snapped. "I carried you out of that fire. I threw burning wood with my own fucking hands. Do you even know what it felt like? Hearing you scream like that inside?"
She covered her mouth, sobbing softly.
I finally turned. Met her eyes. And I saw it.
That guilt.
That same guilt she carried like a noose around her neck.
And something else.
Fear.
Not of me—
Of something she still hadn't told me.
"There's more, isn't there?" I said, stepping closer.
Aveline's gaze dropped.
Silent.
My eyes narrowed.
"Tell me."
She didn't.
So I said, "If you don't speak now, Aveline—I swear to god, I'll dig up every shadow you've ever stepped into and burn it myself."
Her lips trembled.
Then finally, she whispered—
"I met… her."
My blood froze.
"Who?"
Aveline looked up, voice barely audible.
"Your… mistress."