Page 41 of Bound in Ruin

Once I'm settled, he circles the hood, tosses his suit jacket into the tiny space behind our seats, and slides into the driver's side. The moment he turns the key, the massive V8 engine roars to life, vibrating through the floorboards and making my heart leap straight into my throat.

Without giving me a single second to brace myself, Dominic shifts into gear, slams his foot on the gas, and zooms right out of the garage, the tires squealing against the pavement as we fly out into the open air.

"Oh my God!" I squeal, my fingers digging into the plush leather seat as the sudden burst of acceleration pins me back.

We rocket down the private estate road and eventually hit the open highway, the classic Corvette tearing through the asphalt with raw, unrestrained power. Dominic reaches over to pop the latch, dropping the convertible top completely, and the world explodes into light, sound, and rushing air.

Within seconds, the wind completely wrecks my neat, controlled hair, whipping dark strands across my face and tossing them into a wild, tangled halo. The cool air hits my skin like electricity, washing away the suffocating weight of Dante’s words, the dark shadows of my past, and the rigid expectations I've forced myself to carry for a decade.

For the first time in a long, long while, I don't feel like a pawn, a widow, or a victim trapped in someone else's war.

I feel completely, wildly free.

We turn off the highway and go down a quiet road. A loud, breathless laugh erupts from deep inside my chest—unfiltered and pure. I unbuckle my seatbelt, push myself up from the seat, and stand upright into the rush of the wind, gripping the top of the windshield frame for balance.

I throw my head back, closing my eyes, and stretch my arms wide open toward the sky, letting the roaring wind wrap around me like a shield.

Below me, I hear the deep, rumbling sound of Dominic’s laughter joining mine. I glance down, and the sight of him—his usual dark demeanor completely melted away into a genuine, beaming smile as he handles the wheel with effortless mastery—makes my heart swell until it aches.

I am laughing so hard my ribs hurt, completely intoxicated by the speed, the wind, and the undeniable, wild happiness surging through my veins.

We drive down the long, winding coastal road until every nerve in my body is buzzing with adrenaline. I’m so happy.

When Dominic finally takes a wide turn back toward the direction of home, I sink back down into the leather passenger seat, still catching my breath, a helpless laugh bubbling up every few seconds.

"Why did you bring me on this ride?" I ask, turning my head to look at his sharp profile. "How did you even know I’d enjoy it?"

He keeps his gaze fixed on the asphalt ahead, a small smile resting on his lips. "Driving like this always helps me clear my head when things get too loud. And since you mentioned that you liked my collection this morning... I thought you’d like this, too."

A rush of warmth hits my chest. "Thank you," I say, the sincerity heavy in my voice. "Honestly, Dominic... this is the best I’ve felt since I was seventeen."

He glances over at me, his dark eyes softening as our gazes lock for a long beat, before he turns his attention back to the road.

I’m still buzzing in my seat, watching the trees blur past, when he hums low in his throat.

"Sweetheart," he says, his tone completely shifting, cool and steady. "Can you fasten your seatbelt?"

I immediately notice the tight edge of concern underlying his words. I quickly reach for the strap and click it into place, my heart thumping against my ribs. "What's wrong?"

He looks at me for a split second, his jaw clenching. I ask him again, louder this time: "Dominic, what is it?"

"I think we're being followed," he says calmly.

My eyes widen, my head instantly snapping around to check the side mirror. Behind us, a dark, tinted SUV is maintaining a steady, aggressive distance, speeding up whenever we do. Panic flares up in my chest, but before it can take over, Dominic catches my eye and flashes a calm, dangerous smile.

"Do you trust me?" he asks.

"Yes," I say without a second of hesitation.

His smile widens lethally. "Then just hang on."

Dominic kicks the Corvette into high gear, engine roaring as he veers off the main highway onto a narrower, twisting backroad. The dark SUV behind us accelerates instantly, dropping all pretense of hiding.

They're persistent, cutting corners to keep up with us.

Dominic’s hands move with terrifying precision on the wheel and the stick shift, using every inch of the classic car's power to weave through tight turns, pushing the tires to their absolute limit. Engine revving, wind howling around the open top, the chase blurs into a high-octane game of cat and mouse.

My knuckles turn white as I grip the door handle, my breath catching with every sharp drift and split-second dodge. But as I look over at Dominic—completely focused, cold, and in absolute control—the panic subsides, replaced by a fierce, steady trust. I sit right there beside him, shaken by the raw speed, but completely confident in him.