Page 25 of King of Ruin

The interruption was gentle, almost timid, yet it stopped him just the same.

"I do care about you." She looked up at him without the slightest hesitation. "It doesn't matter that our families introduced us or that we're getting married because of them. You're going to be my husband."

"I'm not going to be your husband, Elise."

The words came out sharper than he'd intended, frustration finally breaking through the restraint he'd been forcing himself to maintain. He took a step closer until barely a foot separated them, his tall frame casting a shadow over her as he searched her face, almost as though he were trying to understand how someone could believe something so completely.

"Do you even hear yourself?" he asked, dragging a hand through his hair before letting it fall back to his side.

His jaw tightened, and he let out a slow breath through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm.

"Our parents have known each other for years. That's the only reason this arrangement exists." His gaze never left hers. "Nothing about it has anything to do with you or me."

He paused for only a second before continuing, his voice dropping lower.

"I've already told my family I don't want this marriage."

The anger he'd been holding back all evening was becoming harder to contain. He turned away for a brief moment, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck before looking at her again.

"They won't listen to me."

His eyes hardened.

"So now it's your turn. I want you to go home and tell your parents this wedding isn't happening. Tell them you've changed your mind. Tell them you don't want to marry me. I don't care what reason you give them, Elise, but end it."

The corridor fell silent except for the distant bass of the music vibrating through the walls.

He took another slow step toward her, his expression colder than before.

"Because if you don't..." he said quietly, "...you're choosing a miserable life for yourself.”

He gave a faint shake of his head, almost scoffing at the idea.

"I don't need your fucking sympathy. I don't need your sacrifices. And I certainly don't need you throwing your life away for me."

The last sentence came out harder than the rest, echoing through the quiet corridor.

"You agreeing to take the blame for a murder..." He let out a disbelieving laugh and ran a hand through his hair again, still unable to believe what had happened inside the club. "That has to be the most foolish thing I've ever heard."

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her.

“I don't love you, Elise. And you don't love me. So don't fucking stand here and tell me you care about me."

Chapter 4

By the time his words faded into silence, Elise didn't say a single word. The gentle smile that had been resting on her lips slowly disappeared, and something inside her seemed to crumble. Her lashes lowered as though she were trying to hide it, but she couldn't.

The disappointment was there for him to see, etched across every delicate feature. Her eyes lost their light, replaced by quiet devastation, and the corners of her lips trembled almost imperceptibly before pressing together as if she were fighting to keep herself composed. She looked so heartbreakingly dejected that it was as though every ounce of hope she'd been clinging to had been ripped away from her in a single breath.

The sight struck Xavier with brutal force.

A sharp pain lanced through the center of his chest so suddenly that it stole his breath. His brows drew together instinctively as his hand lifted from where it rested against her arm and pressed hard against his own chest, his fingers curling into the expensive fabric of his shirt. It felt real—terrifyingly real—as though someone had reached inside him and squeezed his heart with merciless strength.

His jaw tightened until it ached, every muscle in his body locking as he stared at her, unable to tear his eyes away from the sadness clouding her face. He couldn't understand it. He couldn't explainwhy seeing her look so devastated hurt him this much, yet every passing second only made the crushing pressure inside his chest worse.

None of this made sense.

He didn't care about her. Then why did it feel like he was the one breaking apart?