Ruby
Yeah… I did say it. If you leave, I won't come to apologize.
And she left.
Didn't even look back. Just ripped the ring off her finger and threw it at me like it was nothing — like I was nothing. It's only been one damn day, but it feels like years. First, she ran to Alia's apartment.
Then she was gone again, headed for the airport. Now? She's probably somewhere abroad, tucked away with her sister Mireline.
The moment she walked out, the silence in my life got loud. Leon, Mr. Han, even Max and my own dad — not one of them has spoken to me. Alia's pissed too, and honestly, if Mom were still here, she would've smacked me clean across the face.
I was sitting in the sunroom, stretched out on the couch, staring at nothing. Leon was all the way at the other end, watching me like I was some kind of stranger.
"Leon?" I called. "I'm sorry. Come here, will you?"
He just… stared. Then stood up and walked out without saying a word... I mean he's a dog without a single bark.
I looked down at my hand — yeah, the ring was back on, strung up on my lion pendant like I was keeping it on life support.
Office didn't help. Ben was giving me the coldest shoulder imaginable. No jokes. No banter. Just silence. Endless meetings, like maybe if I stayed buried in work, I wouldn't have to hear my own thoughts.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Ben?" I finally snapped.
He looked at me like I was dirt under his shoe. "You almost hit your wife, Ruby. And you let her leave. In the middle of the night. Alone."
No comeback. He was right. And the worst part? It was too late.
---
The art studio smelled like turpentine and dust, but without her in it, it felt more like a mausoleum than a sanctuary. My so-called luxury cage—floor-to-ceiling glass, imported wood floors, sunlight spilling in like it was trying to warm me—was mocking me. Every brushstroke I tried to make just stared back at me, hollow. No matter what I painted, her absence bled into it.
The silence wasn't peaceful; it was a predator. It whispered, You're the strongest, yet you're the weakest. And it was right. Every memory of Aveline danced in my head like a cruel film reel—her soft giggle, the way her skirt flared when she twirled, that light in her eyes when she was lost in her music. I couldn't escape it. I didn't want to, but God, it was eating me alive.
I hated admitting it, but I was losing my mind over her. This woman was my calm, my storm, my home, my damn heartbeat. And I'd almost raised my hand to her. My fingers twitched just thinking about that moment—her blue eyes going glassy with hurt. The shame was an open wound I couldn't stitch shut.
I slid my phone from my pocket, my thumb hesitating over the screen before calling Adam and Luna. They knew about the fight. I didn't need to explain much; just told them to come over.
Thirty minutes later, the low, rumbling growl of Adam's custom SUV announced their arrival. I didn't even need to see it—I could tell by the way the engine held its breath before shutting off.
They came in without knocking. Adam's energy hit the room first, sharp and restless, Luna's trailing after, softer but dangerous when she wanted to be. We sat across from each other at the long glass table. My champagne sat in my hand, untouched.
"Some piece of shit sent Aveline pictures of me with Emily and her kid," I said flatly. "Claiming I'm having an affair. My fucking mistress—" I laughed bitterly, "—that I don't even have."
They looked at each other, then at me, then at the photos I tossed across the table. Luna picked them up, her expression unreadable. Adam's jaw tightened.
"They're shit, Ruby," Adam growled, already reaching for the Glock holstered under his jacket like he was ready to put a bullet between someone's eyes.
"Shut up, Adam Cripps," Luna snapped without looking at him.
I wasn't even fully present. My fingers flexed around the crystal glass until the sound of it shattering startled even me. Champagne spilled over my hand, mixing with the sudden, sharp sting of pain. Blood ran fast and hot, dripping onto the table like it couldn't wait to escape me.
Adam swore under his breath and was at my side in seconds, gripping my wrist. "Are you an idiot, Ruby Daniel Sun?"
Luna was already on the move, yelling for Mr. Han. He appeared almost instantly with a first aid kit, his expression as tight as a locked safe.
I barely felt their hands; my gaze was somewhere else, my voice low and rough, like gravel dragged over glass. "If she was here right now… she'd probably slap me."
Luna froze mid-motion, cotton pressed lightly against my palm, and met my eyes. "Lunatic. You fucker."
I chuckled under my breath, a sound with no humor, just something bitter and broken.
She wrapped my palm tightly, but crimson still seeped through the bandage like it didn't care about her neat work.
"You need to go to the hospital," she said, voice clipped.
I shook my head once. "Nah. You two go find out who sent that shit to Aveline."
Adam gave me one last look like he wanted to argue, but instead, he nodded. Luna sighed, tossed the blood-soaked cotton into the bin, and followed him out.
The house was quiet again, but this time, it was heavier. My bandaged hand throbbed in sync with my heartbeat. I stared at the half-finished canvas in the corner, the mess of colors that were supposed to be something beautiful. Without her, it was just chaos.
Two days later, I was still in that chaos.
The morning sunlight spilled into the living room, glinting off shards of broken glass from where I'd thrown another cup against the wall. Mr. Han walked in, not even flinching at the mess.
"Master, your grandmother is here."
I stood, brushing nonexistent dust off my shirt. The old woman entered, sharp eyes scanning me like I was a kid caught stealing.
---
"You dare raise your hand on her?"
Her voice was calm. Too calm. The kind that made men twice my size fold in seconds.
"I didn't raise my hand— I just…"
I stop. Can't force the words out. Because the second I try, her blue, glassy eyes flash in my head like a blade catching light.
"Just what? Tried to hit her?" Grandma's tone cuts deeper than any knife. "Your dad and mom didn't raise you to put your hands on your wife."
I bite my tongue, but she keeps going.
"You're a mafia boss, a CEO, a name the whole damn world fears… but not me. And not Aveline. She's your responsibility, Ruby Daniel Sun."
"I know, Grandma," I growl, but her gaze pins me in place — straight through my red eyes, like she's stripping the soul clean from my bones.
"You told her she could divorce you if she wanted."
My eyes snap wide. The words burn in my throat.
"She can't," I snarl. "I won't let this happen."
Her voice sharpens, steel wrapped in silk.
"You had a mistress."
I sigh. Of course this shit.
"I don't, Grandma. That woman is not my mistress. I killed her husband — he was one of mine, but he betrayed me. Beat his wife. Used her. I swore I'd protect her, but I never touched her like that. I never will. I will never have anyone but Aveline."
Grandma steps forward, eyes never leaving mine.
"She's your wife."
And that's when I forget my manners.
"Yes, she's my fucking wife. I could take her, ruin her, tear her apart, break her—"
The crack of her palm splits the air. My head jerks to the side. My cheek throbs, heat flooding under the skin. A bruise will bloom by morning.
"If she wants to leave, she will. And I know you, Ruby Sun — you're crazy for her. So go. Tell her everything. Every single truth before it's too damn late. You are the lion of this family, not some pathetic puppy crawling for scraps."
I smirk despite the sting. "You're old, but damn, you still hit hard."
She laughs, slow and dangerous. "Old doesn't mean weak, girl."
I nod, jaw tight. "I'll go to her. I'll bring her back. No matter what."
She studies me for a long second before stepping in, pulling me into a hug.
"She's your mother's favorite. Your addiction. And the pride of the Sun family. Don't you dare let her break."
I breathe out a heavy sigh as she leaves. Hours later, I'm still sitting there, knuckles tight, heart burning. I know exactly what I have to do.
---
The next morning, I was on my jet.
When Mireline opened the door, she stepped aside. And there she was. Aveline. Staring at me like she couldn't believe I was standing there.
"I'm sorry," I said. "But I have to take my wife back. I can't live without her."
"Ruby," Mireline warned, "if you hurt her again—"
"I won't," I promised.
On the way back, Aveline didn't say a word. She looked anywhere but at me. I leaned my head against her shoulder. Felt her tense, then relax just a little. Pulled the ring off my necklace and slid it onto her finger. She didn't resist.
Back home, late that night, I found her in the stables with Leon. Even Obsidian, my damn horse, bowed to her.
She glanced at me. "Your hand… is it okay now?" Soft. Fragile.
I nodded and sat beside her. "I'm sorry, Aveline."
"For hurting me? Or almost slapping me?" she asked.
"Both. And for everything else. I know you're mad. Take your time. But I'll make it up to you."
"What if I can't trust you like I used to?" she said, eyes drifting away.
"I'll still make it up to you."
She scoffed. "Sure. Try it."
"I never had a mistress," I said.
Her eyes locked on mine, wet with unshed tears.
"She… she was just someone I helped. Her husband betrayed me and abused her. I killed him. Look." I showed her the scars in the photos. "I couldn't just leave her and her daughter alone in a world like this."
"A world where humans are real monsters than animals, they're wild than animals."
She broke. Tears spilling. I pulled her into my arms. She let herself sob there for a moment.
"You fucking lunatic," she whispered. "I hate you. I hate you damn much I want you. Don't touch me until I can trust you again."
I kissed her hair. "Take your time, Mrs. Aveline Sun."
---
Bro, I can feel the weight of this one — it's pure messy love, power, and regret. If you want, we could make the next chapter be the "first cracks in the ice" moment where she's still mad but starts softening. That way, the emotional burn keeps simmering before they get back to pure heat.
You want me to set that up?