*Chapter One*
*Her Ruin, His Salvation*
*POV: Ayla*
The air in the room shifted—heavy, suffocating. My ears rang as though someone had fired a gun beside me, yet the only sound I could hear was the wet slap of bodies, the low groans, and my sister's laughter.
My sister.
Maya.
She looked over her shoulder, right into my soul, and smirked.
That smirk ripped through my chest like a serrated knife.
"Ayla," she said, all sugar and venom. "You're early."
I couldn't move. My legs turned to stone, my hands trembled like the storm brewing inside me, and my heart… it broke. Loudly. Violently.
"Ayla—wait!" Ryan scrambled off her, his face pale and full of false concern, like I was the one who ruined something sacred.
"Don't." My voice cracked. "Don't you dare say my name like you didn't just ruin me."
Tears stung my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall. Not in front of them. Not in front of *her*.
Maya stood up, not bothering to cover herself. "It was never about you, sweet sister. You were just... practice."
Something snapped.
I laughed—one of those broken, bitter laughs that came from deep in the gut. "Practice? Wow. That's what I was?"
"You were a pawn," she said, circling the bed to stand in front of me like she was the queen and I was just another piece. "Ryan was mine long before you even knew his name."
Ryan looked like he wanted to disappear, but I didn't care. My eyes were locked on Maya.
"You told him about me," I whispered. "You told him how I loved deep, how I trusted blindly. You set me up."
"Guilty," she said, unfazed. "And you fell for it. Like always."
That was it. The last thread of who I was snapped. And something new took root—something darker.
I turned, walked out, and slammed the door behind me.
Let them finish whatever twisted thing they started. I had no tears left. Just rage.
—
I don't remember getting in my car or driving. My hands trembled the entire time, but somehow I ended up parked outside a bar I didn't recognize. It was dark, the neon sign flickering above the door like a warning.
Perfect.
The inside smelled like regret and spilled whiskey—just right for the mood clawing inside me.
"Whiskey. Neat," I told the bartender as I slid into a stool.
He gave me a once-over and frowned. "You sure?"
I narrowed my eyes. "Does it look like I'm in the mood for orange juice?"
His hands went up. "Alright, boss lady."
I downed the first glass and asked for another. The burn felt good. Real. Unlike everything else I'd known lately.
"Ayla Rivers."
The sound of my name snapped my head toward the voice.
He was tall. In a suit that probably cost more than my entire apartment lease. Cold, calculating eyes stared at me like he already knew my story.
"Do I know you?" I asked, heart hammering.
"You know *of* me." He smirked. "Dominic Crane."
Dominic.
Ryan's boss. The ghost in every office whisper. The man people were terrified of but couldn't stop talking about.
"What the hell do you want?"
He didn't flinch. Instead, he pulled out a chair beside me and sat, every movement calm and deliberate. "I want to offer you something better than a drink."
I scoffed. "Unless it erases the last six hours of my life, I'm not interested."
His eyes flicked to the bartender, who suddenly looked nervous. "She's cut off."
"What the hell?" I snapped. "I'm not drunk."
"No," Dominic said, smoothly. "But you're vulnerable. And this place is full of men who prey on that. Not on my watch."
I laughed again, but there was no humor in it. "And what are you, Dominic? My savior?"
"No," he said. "But I could be your weapon."
That caught me off guard.
"What?"
He leaned in. "I know what Ryan did. And Maya. I've known for weeks."
My blood turned to ice. "You knew?"
He nodded. "And I let it happen."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to see if you were worth saving."
His words hung in the air between us.
"Now I know you are."
I should've run. Should've told him to go to hell. But something in me stayed rooted to that stool.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"Marry me."
The glass slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor.
"You're insane."
"Maybe," he said. "But I can give you everything they tried to take. Power. Respect. Revenge."
"And love?"
His eyes darkened. "I don't believe in love. But I do believe in loyalty. And destruction. I'm offering you both."
A choice hovered in the air like smoke.
Burn with him.
Or keep drowning alone.
And in that moment, I didn't want to be saved. I wanted to be dangerous.
*[To Be Continued…]*