Page 174 of The Art of Ruin

But then my wrists hurt again.

Or Jasper turns around with that frantic look in his eyes.

Or I remember the gun.

And reality slams back hard enough to make nausea roll through me. Part of me is grateful he didn’t drug me. At least I have full function of my body and mind. I can’t see an opportunity to run. But if I do, I’m taking it.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I say quietly after what feels like hours.

Jasper laughs harshly without looking at me. “That’s funny coming from you.”

My throat tightens, but I force myself to continue. I need to try and get through to him before he does something neither ofus can come back from. Not that I owe this asshole anything, but still, I don’t want to be the reason he ends up dead. “I never did anything to you, Jasper.”

That finally makes him stop pacing.

Slowly, he turns toward me.

“You left me.”

The sheer disbelief that moves through me almost temporarily overpowers the fear. “You cheated on me.”

“It meant nothing.”

I wiggle my wrists as we speak, trying to loosen the ties. It only causes me pain, but still I carry on. I need to keep him talking. “You had a baby with another woman!”

“It was one little mistake. A man has needs, Casey, and when your little problem made you touchy, you pushed me away.”

Fuck this guy. “You mean when my insides felt like they were being ripped out and I was rolling on the floor in agony?”

Jasper rolls his eyes and huffs. “You were being dramatic. All women have periods and most don’t act like you.”

I give up. There’s no explaining endometriosis and the pain it causes. Not to someone so willfully ignorant. “Fine. Whatever.”

His jaw clenches violently. “You think he actually loves you?” he snaps suddenly. “You think men like Adriano Mancini love people? He owns them.”

The words hit harder than they should because part of me has been asking myself exactly that question ever since I realized what Adriano had done to him.

Not whether he loves me.

I know he does. Even without the words, I know he loves me.

I love him too. That’s not the issue.

It’s whether love from a man like Adriano can ever exist without destruction attached to it.

Jasper starts pacing again.

Agitated, and sweaty despite the cold outside. The sunlight is telling me that it’s been a few hours since I was taken and the drive was short, so at least I know I’m still in Manhattan. Jasper’s a fool. The Mancinis have too many contacts in this city for me to remain hidden for long.

“He took everything,” he mutters. “Everything. Accounts are frozen. Investors gone. The fucking Feds are after me because of him.”

My stomach twists harder.

Adriano was right. The Feds don’t go after people without evidence.

Adriano. God, I wish he were here.

A memory flashes suddenly through my head: making the jewelry and him joking about my ring finger as he tied a piece of string around it. My chest aches sharply because even furious with him, I still want him here with me. I always will.