Rapture & Ruin (Rapture & Ruin 1)

Don’t show weakness.

“I appreciate that you were trying to hurt Fitzgerald,” he finally allowed. “At least you’re finally trying to help the family.” He rested an elbow on the chair arm and leaned forward. I felt his menace crash over me like a wave of condemnation. “But it was a stupid fucking plan. If you damage Fitzgerald’s relationship with his daughter, do you think he’s just going to take it on the chin? No. He’ll come after what’s left of us. You will end this relationship, and you will pray that she’s not stupid enough to breathe a word about it to her dad.”

“But he won’t want to do that, will you, Max?” My sister chimed in with her falsely sympathetic voice. “You might have approached her in order to humiliate her father, but you truly care about her. I saw how you looked at her. You were ready to fight our cousins to protect her. She’s compromised your loyalties. I think you might even love her.”

Her hateful words pierced my heart. Yes, I was falling for Allie. She saw me in a way no one else ever had, and I was addicted to the way she looked at me—like I wasn’t a monster. I craved her like I’d never wanted any woman. She was the only person who’d shown me even a shred of true kindness since my mother had died.

She understood my pain and my guilt in a way no one else could. No one else had even bothered to try.

But Allie had insisted on knowing me. She was stubborn and infuriating and absolutely perfect.

My father’s eyes narrowed. “Is this true? Do you care for this girl?”

“No.”

Everyone heard the lie drop like a stone between us.

His lips pressed to a thin line, twisting as though he’d bitten something sour. “End it.” The sharp command lashed me like a whip. “End it, or I swear to god, I’ll send your cousins to pay her a visit. Your little humiliation play will only draw Fitzgerald’s ire without truly landing a blow. I don’t want to draw his attention to us just yet, but if you won’t let her go, I’ll send him a message he’ll understand.

“The Ferraras are done cowering and licking our wounds. If you choose to put his daughter in the line of fire, that’s your prerogative. With any luck, you’ll be the head of this family one day, and you’ll have to learn to make hard decisions.” Black eyes bored into my soul. “End it, or the girl suffers. Your choice.”

I swallowed the acid in my throat and offered the only answer I could: “Yes, sir.”

Chapter 22

Allie

My phone chimed with a text just before Max knocked on my door: It’s me.

I jolted to my feet from where I’d been curled up on my couch, consumed with worry for him. He’d been gone for more than an hour, and terrible, bloody scenes had played through my mind.

I rushed to the door and flung it open, revealing Max’s familiar, shadowy form. I threw myself at him, exhaling a soft sob of relief as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hugged him close. I pressed my face against his chest and breathed in his salt-kissed leather scent, listening to the heavy beat of his heart beneath my ear.

Max was safe. He was here. And he was holding me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

I lifted my face to his, tipping my head back to invite his fierce kiss. I wanted him to consume me. I wanted to wrap myself up in him and feel that he was okay.

But he didn’t bend down to claim my offered kiss. Instead, every line of his massive body went taut, and he released me from his iron embrace. I clung on to him, refusing to allow him to put distance between us.

My heart sank as he pulled away. I clutched him tighter.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice small. My chest tightened with the early symptoms of rejection. I forced down a breath and refused to acknowledge them.

His strong hands wrapped around my shoulders, and for a moment, my heart leapt. But instead of pulling me close, he pried me away from his hard body, holding me at arm’s length.

“We’re done,” he announced, his voice flat and cold.

“What?” I asked on a little puff of air.

I shook my head. Something must’ve happened with his family to make him say such an awful thing. I’d welcomed him into my heart. I’d let him touch me in ways no other man had. His soul called to mine.

I wouldn’t let him go.

“Tell me what happened,” I pleaded. “Something’s wrong.”

His jaw firmed, and his head tipped back, obscuring his features with that awful, skull-like shadow. “Yes,” he agreed, his tone clipped. “Everything about this is wrong. We can’t be together.”