𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

Ruth's POV
It's like I've plunged into a pit of regret, drowning in the consequences of my own actions. I can't shake the feeling that I've betrayed something sacred, something I vowed to uphold-loyalty. And yet, here I am, guilty of the very thing I feared.

I should have been transparent with Marco, laid my cards on the table instead of succumbing to jealousy and insecurity. Kissing Caleb was a foolish attempt to bury my emotions, to numb the ache of longing for something I thought I couldn't have. But instead of finding solace, I've only plunged deeper into turmoil.

Now, all I can think about is Marco-his warmth, his presence, his whispered words of love. I yearn to rewind time, to erase the missteps that led me to this moment. If only I could go back to the innocence of my childhood, before the shadows of the mafia tainted my world.

But amidst the chaos of my thoughts, Marco's confession echoes in my mind, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness. How could someone who once threatened my life now declare his love for me? It's a paradox I can't unravel, a mystery that confounds me.

Yet, despite the tangled web of emotions, there's a glimmer of resilience within me. I remember the day I entrusted Marco with my blades, a symbolic gesture of trust that forged a bond between us. We've come so far since then, weathering storms and overcoming obstacles together. I refuse to let my momentary lapse in judgment unravel everything we've built.

As we glide across the ballroom floor, I can't help but steal glances at Marco. His chestnut hair frames his face perfectly, and he looks dashing in his navy suit. His brown eyes, usually so intense, now seem guarded, distant.

I feel a rush of butterflies in my stomach as his hand rests on my waist, sending tingles down my spine. Despite the tension between us, there's an undeniable chemistry, a familiarity that lingers beneath the surface.

But Marco's demeanor is like a fortress, closed off and impenetrable. He avoids my gaze, refusing to meet my eyes, and his silence speaks volumes. His occasional scowls at the men ogling me betray a hint of possessiveness, a protective instinct that I find both frustrating and endearing.

With each tightening grip, I sense his inner turmoil, his struggle to reconcile his feelings with the reality of our situation. And yet, beneath his stoic facade, I catch glimpses of vulnerability, fleeting moments where his mask slips, revealing the depth of his emotions.

As we move in tandem to the music, I find myself yearning for connection, for the barriers between us to crumble away. But for now, all I can do is dance beside him, hoping that our shared silence speaks louder than words ever could.

Suddenly I hear noise. And everything goes wrong.

The deafening roar of the explosion shatters the elegant tranquility of the ballroom, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. My heart lurches in my chest as chaos erupts around me, screams blending with the cacophony of shattering glass and crumbling walls. Panic claws at my throat, choking me with fear as I struggle to make sense of the devastation unfolding before my eyes.

Amidst the chaos, I catch a glimpse of Marco, his face a mask of fury as he pushes through the panicked crowd, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination. Despite his anger towards me, he doesn't hesitate to grab my hand, his grip firm and unyielding as he pulls me towards safety.

The air is thick with smoke and dust, the acrid scent burning my lungs as we stumble through the wreckage. I cling to Marco's hand like a lifeline, my heart pounding in my chest as we make our way towards the exit. His presence beside me offers a sliver of comfort amidst the turmoil, a reminder that even in the darkest of moments, I am not alone.

As we finally emerge into the cool night air, Marco wastes no time in ushering me into the waiting limousine. The silence between us is deafening, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. I steal a glance at him, but his expression remains impassive, his jaw clenched with suppressed rage.