Ruby
I was sketching her.
Again. Finally. Like some part of me had started breathing again.
Aveline—she's growing. Evolving. She's chasing her dreams, running with her hair wild and her eyes full of that stupid hope that always makes me soft. And yet...
She was getting too close to Andrew. Business partner. Client type. Whatever. Sometimes I wanted to cut his hands off. I mean, I could. I've done worse. But my wife doesn't like seeing me soaked in blood, even if it's not mine. Still...
I had work. Mafia stuff.
I was driving my Mustang—obsessed, yes, I am. The leather, the engine, the hum of danger. I pulled up to my personal warehouse. This place was for my own... amusements.
Inside, a man was tied to a chair. Thick ropes. Stiff neck. Eyes darting.
He interfered with my work.
Or maybe I just needed fun.
I lit a cigarette, took a few slow drags, exhaled like a god. The bastard flinched with every puff.
This one? A real piece of garbage. Government kept paying him to shut his mouth, but he had claws under the table. Dirty ones.
When we were kids, we made up monsters. Now the real ones walk freely. We should've put them in zoos, not the animals.
I took another drag, eyes burning through him. He whimpered.
Earlier today, I was dropping Aveline at uni. On the way back, I saw a girl—clothes torn, barefoot, rabbit plush dangling from her tiny hands. He kicked her. Laughed.
That was it.
I parked the car, slammed the door, and let the rage take the wheel. I warned him. He challenged me. Me.
Ruby Daniel Sun.
He insulted me.
So now he was here. Adam and Luna were already inside. Luna handed me the bat.
"Might not be enough for you," she teased.
I cracked my neck, grinned.
I hit him—arm. Leg. Ribs.
The cries? Music.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know you're Ruby Sun!"
"Even if I wasn't, respect should be basic. Don't you think?"
He screamed. Coughed up blood. Good.
I gave the bat to Luna.
"Don't let him rest. Not even for a moment."
"Damn, Ruby. You're a demon."
I smirked. "Well, mafia, after all."
Adam yelled, "Our mafia boss is falling for someone!"
I gave him a death glare. He winked.
"Wanna join me, Adam?"
"Hell yeah."
Luna stayed. She'd handle the jerk.
---
We didn't go home.
We went to the club. Velvet ropes. Strobe lights. Where the rich wasted time and drank consequences.
VIP area. Whiskey in hand. Girls approached. I didn't touch, but I won't lie—attention is attention.
Adam was whispering into his phone. Aveline's name came up. I'd deal with him later.
He hung up. Grinned.
"Best of luck, Ruby. Your little storm's waiting."
"You're a jerk, Adam."
He waved, vanished.
I sat back, legs stretched, head tilted. Familiar posture. Familiar power.
Then—
"Hey ma'am, who are you?"
Security. Panic.
I turned. Entrance.
Aveline.
Short dress. Mid-thigh. Fury in her steps. A mad rabbit on warpath.
"Leave," I said. The security scattered.
She marched up. Climbed into my lap like she owned the world. Knees on either side. Fingers curling around my neck. Lips crashing down, hungry and angry and mine.
One hand on her waist. The other gripping her tight.
"While I'm gone, you're enjoying with other girls? When your wife's right here?"
I laughed. "Didn't touch 'em. Swear."
"But they touched you. And you enjoyed it."
"I enjoy you more."
She kissed me again. Harder. Her lipstick painting my skin, bites like warning signs.
She bit under my jaw.
"Rabbit got sharp teeth, huh?"
Another bite.
She whispered, "Let's go home."
I gave her my jacket. Her bare shoulders were flushed. Her legs already across my lap in the car.
One hand on her thigh, teasing.
"Ruby," she warned, "watch the road."
"Not with the way you're looking at me."
Pulled over. Tinted windows.
She gasped as I dragged her into my lap.
"You forgot your punishment, remember?"
She blushed. Punched my chest weakly.
"Don't start here," she whispered.
"I trying to be gentle Aveline"I said voice raw
Oh, I don't care," Aveline murmured, dragging her teeth along my jawline. "You deserve this."
She rolled her hips, deliberately, slow. My grip on her waist tightened, her breath hitching.
Aveline met my eyes, pupils blown wide.
"Don't."
I snapped again.
I leaned forward, grabbing the back of Aveline's head and crashing our mouths together—kiss deep, open, raw. My other hand slid down, under the hem of the dress, dragging up Aveline's thigh, skin to skin.
The moan Aveline let out when my fingers brushed her inner thigh?
It was sinful. Addictive. Dangerous.
I didn't remember the drive.
All I remembered was her —
That fire in Aveline's eyes. That slap of jealousy.
That kiss.
God, that kiss.
It rewired something in me.
Unhinged me. Uncaged me.
The moment we stepped into the villa, I barely waited for the door to shut.
Click. Silence.
Aveline turned, but before she could speak—
I had her pinned against the wall.
"You made a fucking scene," I growled, her voice like thunder behind velvet.
"I don't care," Aveline whispered, eyes blazing. "You made me jealous."
Her fire. Her fury.
"Good."
"You were with that blonde flirti—"
I didn't let her finish.
Hand on her jaw. Firm.
And I kissed her like punishment.
---
Hot. Open.
I tasted anger and lust and that deep craving Aveline always tried to hide behind politeness and ballet shoes.
The kiss broke.
I licked the edge of her own lip, voice dark and breathless.
"Upstairs. Now."
But I didn't wait.
I scooped her up—arms under Aveline's thighs like she weighed nothing, like she was already mine.
Up the staircase.
Into the bedroom.
The second Aveline's back hit the mattress, I was on her knees at the edge of the bed, undoing the straps of her heels, one by one.
"You wore this dress to kill me," I muttered, voice thick. "You knew it would stick to you like a second skin. You wanted me crazy."
Aveline's breath hitched. "And did it work?"
My eyes burned like coals.
"You have no idea."
I leaned over her, hands gliding up her thighs, under the fabric, until Aveline arched off the bed—whimpering from nothing but touch.
"Take it off," I ordered, voice low.
Aveline did.
Slowly.
Like a dare.
I stood. Watching. Bare chest rising, falling, losing control.
When the dress hit the floor, I climbed on top of her, hands on either side of Aveline's head, like a beast over its prey.
But her lips—
They were soft this time.
I kissed her like I needed her to breathe.
Like this was the last night of I life and I die if I didn't memorize Aveline's taste, her scent, the shape of every gasp she made.
My mouth traveled lower.
Between her breasts.
Across her ribs.
Down her stomach.
And my voice—raw and reverent—murmured:
"You drive me insane."
Aveline's fingers tangled in mine hair, her nails scratching her scalp.
"Then lose your mind for me," she whispered.
That broke me.
No mercy. No rest.
Just heat. Tongues. Nails. Gasps.
Hours melted.
I didn't just love her.
I devoured her.
Right hand gripping Aveline's thigh, left
And when Aveline collapsed, trembling and breathless under me, left buried inside her—
deep.
But I didn't stop let her feel.
Curling.
Stretching.
Twisting in that exact way that made Aveline lose her rhythm.
Her head slammed back against the pillow, chest heaving.
And I just leaned over, lips brushing her ear.
"Come on" I rasped, voice thick. "Let me feel you break."
Aveline let out a sob—a high, shaking, needy moan—and her hands, God, her hands—
They clawed down my bare back.
Hard.
Her nails dragged, slow at first, then frantic, leaving angry red lines across golden skin.
I hissed.
My spine arched from the pain—no, the pleasure—and I curled my fingers harder, deeper.
Aveline screamed my name.
Her whole body convulsed—hips jerking, thighs clenching, mouth open wide like she was gasping for mercy that I never planned to give.
But me?
She was grinning.
Her lips, wet from kisses, curved as I watched the girl beneath me fall apart.
"You're so damn pretty when you scratch me," I whispered, biting her bottom lip.
Aveline moaned again, her nails digging deeper.
Blood. Maybe.
I didn't care.
I didn't stop. Didn't slow.
Just curled my fingers again—
Right there.
Aveline broke.
Back arched.
Loud cry.
Tears in the corners of her eyes.
Her body shook, clenching around my hand like it didn't wanna let go.
And when she finally collapsed, I kissed the scratches on her chest and whispered against her lips:
"I'll wear those marks like trophies."
I kissed her collarbone like apology. Her thighs like devotion.
Then wrapped my arms around her like armor.
Held her.
I Pressed her forehead against mine.
Let my heartbeat lull back to sanity.
And I whispered—
"I've killed for less than what I feel for you."