"Ruby. Thank goodness you're here. Just when I needed you."
I froze the moment I stepped in, closing the door softly behind me.
Arman sat upright on the hospital bed, an iPad resting in his hand. The oxygen mask was off, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
Oh, hell…
His sharp jawline, perfectly shaped nose, flawless skin, and those impossibly long lashes—all just as I remembered. Then came the eyes. Those green, electrifying orbs that once made my knees weak. And still did. My pulse quickened as I forced myself forward.
Why hasn't anyone told him Ruby's dead yet? Do I really have to be the one to say it?
"Look at this," he said, extending the iPad toward me. "Mr. Volkov sent over the images. Check them out."
I took the iPad, my palms slick. The screen displayed pictures of luxurious mansions, each one more breathtaking than the last.
"They're all close to the gallery," he continued. "So they won't interfere with your curating job."
Ruby was a curator?
I scrolled through the photos, trying not to gape. The estates looked straight out of a magazine. They were all grand, modern and untouchable.
"Y-you own all these?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He chuckled, the sound coming out low and effortless. "Of course. What did you think? Mr. Volkov wouldn't send me someone else's properties."
Estates. Plural. Seven of them. My brows arched. Damn… he's that rich?
"So, pick one," he said, leaning back against the pillows. "We'll move in by next week. I'm being discharged soon, and I want to head straight there."
His voice faltered slightly, and exhaustion flashed across his face. Instinctively, I reached out and adjusted his bed so he could lie properly. He smiled faintly as I did, and before I could step away, he caught my hand and pressed a soft, cold kiss to it.
I nearly jumped.
"Erm… I should probably go and pack the things you need, right?" I blurted, pulling my hand back and setting the iPad on his lap.
He tilted his head, studying me. "You're acting strange, Ruby."
I swallowed hard. God, I'm starting to hate that name.
I turned to leave but stopped midway. I didn't have a house key. I didn't even know where they lived. What was I doing? Why hadn't I told him the truth yet? My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out my thoughts. I spun back around, ready to confess, but before I could get a word out, Arman spoke again.
"Right. Vega's here to pick you up and take you home. He'll bring you back later. He's waiting at the reception."
"How—?" I began, then stopped. Of course Ruby would know who Vega is.
Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the moment they'd realize I wasn't her. But I wasn't ready to expose myself just yet. I nodded quickly and hurried out.
Sure enough, at the reception stood a bulky man with a low fade haircut and a tattoo covering the left side of his face. His presence alone could silence a room. The moment he saw me, he approached.
"Madam, boss asked me to pick you up," he said with a curt nod.
I frowned, confused. He didn't know what Ruby looked like?
Still, I said nothing. Like the coward I was, I followed him without protest. We stopped beside a sleek black Mercedes-Benz SUV. He opened the back door for me, and I slipped in quietly.
As Vega got into the driver's seat and the engine purred to life, anxiety coiled in my stomach. I stared out the window, heart racing, as the hospital disappeared behind us—
and I sank deeper into the lie I wasn't ready to shatter.