Page 53 of Bound in Ruin

"I don't care," he says, his voice dropping into that commanding tone that leaves zero room for debate. "Take a guard, Rosalia. Or you don't go."

I glare at him for two seconds, tempted to argue just for the sake of defying him, but I really don't have the energy to turn a simple dog walk into another war.

"Fine," I snap, turning on my heel and leaving his office.

Outside, Helena already has a collar around Yapper’s neck. She agrees to join me, and we head out into the cool evening air, flanked at a respectful distance by one of Dominic's towering, silent security guards.

As Yapper happily scampers through the manicured grass, sniffing every single flowerbed in sight, the tension of the day finally begins to melt off my shoulders.

Helena turns out to be wonderful company. We wander down the winding stone paths, laughing as she shares hilarious, ridiculous stories about the estate staff, past misadventures, and random, witty observations about life in the compound.

For the first time all day, I find myself laughing out loud, the quiet evening air carrying the sound across the open gardens.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, cutting through the laughter. I pull it out to see an unfamiliar number on the screen.

"Excuse me for a second, Helena," I say, stepping slightly to the side and pressing the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Kane? This is Sarah from the editorial team at the Guardian magazine," a crisp, upbeat voice speaks through the speaker. "We're following up on the photo shoot. The editor-in-chief was wondering if you and Mr. Kane would be open to expanding the feature to include an exclusive Q&A interview as well? We’d love to get a short profile on your vision and background."

I pause for a moment, weighing the idea. Before, the thought of putting myself out there in the public eye would have terrified me. But now? Standing on my own feet, choosing my own direction? It feels like the right step.

"We’d be happy to do the interview," I reply, keeping my tone poised and confident.

"Wonderful!" Sarah says, clearly pleased. "We’re finalizing the production schedule right now."

"Great. Please send over an official email with the full details, date, and location so I can note everything down," I instruct gently.

"Will do, Mrs. Kane. Have a great evening!"

I hang up and slip the phone back into my pocket, a quiet smile playing on my lips. Helena looks over at me with warm curiosity as Yapper violently wrestles with a stray pinecone at her feet.

"Good news?" she asks.

"The magazine wants to do a full interview," I tell her, walking back over as we resume our slow lap around the gardens. "It feels... exciting. A little surreal, but good."

"You deserve the spotlight," Helena says softly, her eyes twinkling with genuine affection. "It's about time you correct the narrative and share your voice.”

Her sentiment is sweet, and it makes me smile.

“Thank you, Helena.”

We lapse back into light, easy conversation until the sun dips below the tree line, turning the sky into shade of deep purple and gold.

Once we head back inside, I hand Yapper’s leash over to Helena so she can take him to the kitchen for his dinner. "I'm going to take a quick shower," I tell her, stretching my tired legs.

I make my way upstairs to the master suite, head straight into the sleek, marble bathroom, and lock the world out. I peel off my dusty clothes, turn the heavy brass handles, and let the steaming hot water cascade down over my shoulders, washing away the heat and tension of the long day.

Fifteen minutes later, I turn off the taps, step out onto the plush bathmat, and wrap a towel around my dripping hair. Steam billows off the glass walls, filling the room in a hazy cloud. I grab a second towel to wrap around my body⁠—

Click.

The bathroom door swings wide open.

I gasp loudly as Dominic steps straight into the steam, completely unexpected. In my sheer, wild panic to cover my chest and hide the scars mapped across my ribs, my bare foot slips on a patch of wet tile.

"Ah—!"

My arms flail, my balance completely gives out, and I go skittering backward toward the slippery marble floor.