Chapter Three
Her Ruins, His Salvation
POV: Ayla
The first thing I learned about Dominic Crane: he never offered anything without a cost.
The second? He always collected.
The next morning, I woke up in a penthouse that didn't feel real. Silk sheets. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Cold air-conditioning and colder silence.
I wasn't sure what we were now. Allies? Enemies with benefits? Strangers orbiting a mutual goal?
The room smelled like him. Expensive, masculine, laced with danger.
I sat up slowly, sheets wrapped around me, the events of the night rushing back in fragments. The elevator. His mouth. The contract.
Yes—the *contract*.
It lay on the nightstand beside a glass of untouched whiskey. Five pages, printed in small, neat font. I hadn't signed it yet. Dominic hadn't pushed.
But it hovered over me like a noose.
*Clause One:* "No emotional entanglements."
*Clause Two:* "Total discretion."
*Clause Three:* "Absolute loyalty."
There were more. Some too intimate to process in the early morning light.
And yet, I wasn't scared.
I was intrigued.
There was a knock at the door. Sharp. Twice. Then silence.
I pulled on the robe left at the foot of the bed, tightening it around me as I padded barefoot toward the door.
When I opened it, Dominic stood there in a tailored black suit, as if the night before had never happened.
"Good. You're awake," he said, stepping in without asking.
"Do you always enter rooms like you own them?" I asked.
He glanced at me, amused. "I *do* own this one."
Touché.
He walked to the table, picked up the contract, and held it out.
"You have until tonight. Sign it, or walk away."
I crossed my arms. "And if I sign it?"
His eyes narrowed slightly. "Then you become mine."
The words landed somewhere between a promise and a prison sentence.
"What's first?" I asked, voice steady.
He smirked. "First? We destroy your sister."
I paused. You said earlier: WE DESTROY YOUR SISTER. How do we do that without becoming monsters ourselves?
He stepped closer, so close I could see the faint lines at the edge of his eyes. By making them regret every breath. Every lie. Starting with her wedding.
A thrill ran down my spine. Not fear—anticipation.
"Her wedding is in two weeks," I said. "She's marrying *him.*"
He touched my hand lightly as if he wanted to kiss me.
"Not anymore," Dominic said simply. "We're crashing it."
My pulse quickened. "That's your plan?"
"No, Ayla." He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "*That's the beginning.*"
And just like that, I realized… whatever war I'd stepped into, I wasn't just a victim anymore.
I was the weapon.
I dropped the contract on a marble table. I'm in, I said quietly.
His lips curved into a dark half-smile. Good
The elevator doors opened behind him, and two well- dressed men entered, carrying black briefcases. Their eyes flicked to me, then to Dominic. No expression of surprise.
Just acknowledgement.
In a few hours, he whispered, you'll receive something. A gift. Or a test. His eyes caught mine. Don't fail me.
I nodded, heart pounding.
They carried in a long , black box. Tall. Rigid. Menacing.
Dominic flicked the latch, lifted the lid and inside was a ring.
Not an engagement ring.
A ring-older, tarnished, heavy. A family heirloom. The symbol of legacy, or curse.
He placed it on the table and walked away without explanation.
I stared at it, heart dragging, mind spinning.
What did it mean? Why now? And what did he expect me to do with it?
The men shut the box and left silently. The penthouse felt vast, empty, and dangerous.
I touched my throat-dry. My hands-cold.
The ring called to me. It whispered of power and history, of debts owed. It told me I was playing a deeper game now.
I picked up the lid and stared at the ring inside. The city lights glinted off , it was as though it was alive.
And in that moment, I understood: this wasn't just his deal. It was ours.
But whose deal really? And whose ruin?
I slid the lid shut.
I was smiling- but it wasn't relief. It was something darker.
Because when revenge comes knocking, you have to answer. Or it will own you.
And I was already answering mine.