Page 190 of The Art of Ruin

“It looks better on you.”

God.

I look away first because if I don’t, I’m going to run into his arms and we need to talk first. For a second, neither of us speaks.

Then Adriano reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a thick envelope. “I meant what I said,” he tells me quietly. “Everything is in here.”

I stare at it.

“The investors. The companies. The investigations. What I pushed. What I influenced.” Shame flickers across his expression. “The parts I’m not proud of, too.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes,” he says softly. “I do.”

The simple certainty of it settles heavily between us.

Because this is hard for him.

Trusting me with the uglier parts of himself instead of deciding I can’t handle them.

“I liked hurting him,” Adriano says quietly.

The honesty of it shocks me enough that I look up sharply.

His gaze holds mine steadily.

“Not because of the cheating, although God knows he deserved what he got just for that.” His jaw tightens once. “But because he made you afraid and he made you feel shame for something he did.”

Emotion climbs painfully into my throat. “I don’t know what to do with that,” I whisper.

“You don’t have to do anything.” His voice roughens slightly. “I just needed you to hear the truth from me instead of anyone else.”

Silence settles softly around us.

Then finally I ask the question that’s been sitting in my chest since the warehouse. “Did you ever think about what I wanted?”

Pain flashes visibly across his face. “No,” he says honestly. “Not enough.”

That answer should devastate me. But then I remember what Matteo said to me yesterday. Jasper went after ISM, too. That alone makes me wish I could punch Jasper in the face. Adriano and his family have worked so hard to honor their mother and father and Jasper wanted to bring it down for no other reason than spite.

Adriano could have used that to excuse his lies and his behavior, but not once has he done so. He has held his worries close and hasn’t let me carry any of them. That should make me angry.

Instead, weirdly, it makes something loosen slightly in my chest. Because he could’ve defended himself. Could’ve justified it or hidden behind protection and fear and love.

But he doesn’t. He gives me the truth no matter how ugly, no matter what it might cost him, because I asked him to, and yet he still tries to protect me.

“I don’t know how to love halfway,” he says quietly. “I think maybe I convinced myself that it made the damage and the lies acceptable.”

My eyes sting unexpectedly. “Adi—”

“I’d still destroy anyone who hurt you,” he admits softly. “The difference now is I understand it doesn’t give me the right to lie to you while I do it.”

I stare at him standing in Bri’s kitchen, looking exhausted and terrified and completely unlike the untouchable man the rest of Manhattan sees.

Then, before I can overthink it, I cross the room.

Adriano goes completely still.