Page 112 of The Art of Ruin

My calm lands harder than raising my voice ever would.

His jaw tightens. “I’m not here for you.”

“No,” I reply. “You’re here because you think you still have a place in her life.”

“That’s between me and—”

“It isn’t,” I cut in, my tone even. “Not anymore. As far as Casey is concerned, you don’t exist. If you contact her again or come near her, I’ll ruin you. And believe me when I say it won’t be pretty.”

Something shifts in his expression at that.

Recognition.

Not of what I’ve said.

Of what I’m implying.

“You need to leave right now.”

“And if I don’t?”

There it is.

The question people ask when they think they have leverage.

They don’t.

I hold his gaze for a second longer, letting the silence stretch just enough to make the answer clear before I say it. “Then Iremove you. I never want to see you again and believe me, I will know. I have eyes everywhere. You know who I am and what my family is, so don’t think this is an empty threat,” I continue, calm, controlled, leaving no room for interpretation.

No threat.

No emphasis.

Just fact.

Behind me, I’m aware of movement—Nico stepping into place, the shift of the room as people start to realize something is happening, even if they don’t know what.

It doesn’t matter.

The only thing that matters is that he leaves.

Now.

Jasper hesitates.

It’s brief.

But it’s there.

He looks past me.

Toward her.

Mistake.

My expression doesn’t change.

But something in the air does.