Page 32 of Bound in Ruin

I know I’m being an asshole, but that’s the entire reason I came out here—to be left alone, to recalibrate without an audience. Helena usually knows better than to bother me when I’m hiding out in this garage.

"What's the problem, Helena?" I ask, tightening a bolt just a little harder than necessary.

"You seem to be the one with the problem," she replies calmly, leaning back with her arms crossed. "I know by now that anytime you're out here covered in grease at seven in the morning, it's because something is heavy on your mind."

I roll my eyes, refusing to make eye contact. I don’t want to talk about what I’m feeling with anyone. Hell, I don’t even fully understand it myself. It’s embarrassing enough as it is—the fact that I am out here losing sleep and pining after a woman who was supposed to be nothing more than a strategic business transaction.

Helena is a close ally and one of the very few people on this earth I actually trust. She saved my life years ago, which is why she holds a permanent, respected place in my house. She knows more about the real Dominic Kane than most of my soldiers ever will.

But this? This is something even she wouldn’t understand.

"Leave me alone, Helena," I say, my tone dropping into a low, firm warning.

Instead of taking offense, she just steps closer and gently pats my shoulder. "Breakfast is ready. I’ve already sent someone upstairs to call Rosalia down. She’ll be in the dining room soon. Come join us."

She gives my shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before turning on her heel and walking away.

Fuck.

There goes the tiny shred of calm and sanity I had managed to build up over the last hour. Wiped out instantly at the mere mention of Rosalia's name.

A dark impulse makes me want to hurl Helena across the garage for dragging her back into my head, but I just close my eyes, forcing slow, deep breaths into my lungs as I listen to the fading sound of her footsteps, completely unaware of the chaos she just reignited.

Fuck Helena.

Fuck breakfast.

I’d say fuck Rosalia too if I could actually bring myself to say it, but the lie wouldn't even clear my lips.

I slam the socket wrench onto the steel workbench with a sharp, deafening clatter that echoes through the high ceilings of the garage. I’m not leaving this sanctuary until I get my mind back on track.

Until I’m back to being the solid, unshakeable man I am built to be—not a fool losing my grip over a soft, silent woman who cannot bear to look at my bloodstained hands.

I grab the rag, aggressively wiping the black oil from my knuckles, staring blankly at the engine.

The silence has returned, but the peace is gone. And no matter how hard I try to fix what was broken under the hood, I know the real damage is waiting for me in the dining room.

CHAPTER TEN

ROSALIA

I wake up to the soft, filtered sunlight cutting through the heavy drapes, my hand automatically reaching across the cool, empty sheets beside me.

The bed is empty.

Dominic is already gone.

As usual.

I sit up, letting out a long yawn as I stretch my aching limbs. Yesterday’s whirlwind of tension—the intense photoshoot, the sharp bite of his words, and that bloody scene in the dimly lit building—flashes through my mind like a movie reel.

My heart gives a small, familiar tug, but I push the thoughts down before they can take root.

A loud knock echoes at the bedroom door.

I pull the silk robe around my shoulders, padding over to open it. One of the young house maids stands in the hallway, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kane," she says softly. "Helena sent me to inform you that breakfast is ready. She’d like you to join her downstairs."