Ruin Me

7:00 AM | MONROE RESIDENCE | ARIA’S STUDY | NEW YORK CITY» Sunlight poured through the thin curtains of the Monroe household, casting a soft glow on the cozy little study tucked at the end of the hallway. Posters of famous authors, scattered books, and a half-drunk cup of coffee cluttered the space. In the middle of it all, Aria Monroe, twenty-two, bright-eyed, and buzzing with energy typed furiously on her laptop, her bare feet tapping against the hardwood floor. “Someone’s on fire this morning,” came a teasing voice. Aria looked up, grinning. “Alina! You’re ready for work already?” Alina Monroe, her older sister by two years, stood at the doorway dressed sharply in a navy skirt suit, her hair pinned in a sleek bun. She carried the crisp scent of expensive perfume and a half-eaten bagel. “Some of us have a job, baby sis,” Alina joked, strolling in and flopping dramatically onto the nearby couch. “Meanwhile, you sit here becoming a national phenomenon overnight.” Aria laughed, cheeks turning pink. “Stop exaggerating!” “I’m not! Your book’s blowing up, Aria! Seriously. Look at this,” Alina said, flashing her phone screen filled with comments, shares, and glowing reviews. “Everyone’s obsessed. And you know why?” Aria wriggled her nose, pretending to think. “Because I’m a literary genius?” “No, you little rat,” Alina threw a pillow at her, laughing. “It’s that cover you used! That ridiculously hot guy glued to every reader’s brain.” Aria giggled, dodging the pillow. “I told you it would work! The second I saw that photo online, I just knew the perfect tortured bad boy vibe!” Alina rolled her eyes fondly. “Yeah, well, turns out everyone loves tortured bad boys. You’re going to need a bodyguard soon.” The sisters laughed, the easy kind of laughter only siblings could share, full of warmth and inside jokes. Aria leaned back, stretching, feeling for once like the world was finally tipping in her favor. Ping. Both of them looked toward the laptop as a new email notification popped up. Aria blinked. “Huh?” She clicked it open, heart skipping a beat as she read the subject line: WOLFELUX CORPORATION - PUBLISHING OPPORTUNITY. URGENT MEETING REQUEST. Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my GOD!” Alina leaned over her shoulder. “Wolfelux? As the number one media company in New York? The same Wolfelux that publishes international bestsellers?” Aria nodded frantically, reading the message aloud. “They want to meet me today… at 2 p.m… at Aries Kings Hotel!” Without warning, Aria screamed and launched herself at Alina, hugging her tightly. They spun around the room like little kids. “This is it, Alina! This is my big break!” Aria squealed. Alina pulled back, her face equally stunned and thrilled. “Damn right it is! You’re gonna be famous! Don’t forget about us small people when you’re rich, you hear me?” They dissolved into more giggles, completely unaware of the storm quietly brewing elsewhere in the city. *** «8:00 AM | WOLFELUX CORPORATION | MIDTOWN MANHATTAN | NEW YORK CITY» The lobby of Wolfelux Tower was a cavern of steel, glass, and quiet awe. Staff lined the marble floor like soldiers as the tall figure of Damon Wolfe strode in, the click of his Italian leather shoes echoing off the high ceilings. He wore a charcoal-gray suit sharp enough to cut glass, black dress shirt open at the collar, no tie because Damon Wolfe didn’t bow to anyone. His icy gray eyes swept the lobby as employees instinctively straightened their backs, murmuring soft “Good mornings” as he passed. No one dared meet his gaze for more than a second. Behind him walked Victor Grant, his loyal manager, carrying a tablet and a nervous energy. Inside the private elevator, Damon finally spoke, voice cold and commanding. “Have you done it?” Victor nodded. “Yes, sir. The meeting is scheduled for 2 p.m. today. Aries Kings Hotel, just as you instructed.” Damon allowed a small, predatory smile to curl his lips. “Good.” He leaned back against the sleek elevator wall, crossing his arms loosely. He could already imagine her face, the shock, the confusion when she realized who she was truly meeting. Poor little author. No clue she played with fire. He chuckled under his breath, a rare sound that held no real humor. He didn’t like being used. He didn’t like losing control. And Aria Monroe was about to learn exactly what that mistake would cost her. *** 8:10 AM | WOLFELUX EXECUTIVE OFFICE Damon’s private office was a fortress, with dark wood panels, black leather, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city like a king surveying his kingdom. Except someone was already inside. Cassie MacDonald perched casually on his desk, one long leg crossed over the other, wearing a scandalously short red dress that barely counted as clothing. Her lipstick matched her outfit bold, loud, and calculated. “Morning, Damon,” she purred, her voice like poisoned honey. Victor quickly mumbled an excuse and fled the room, leaving Damon to stare coldly at the intruder. “Cassie,” he said flatly, stepping inside and letting the door click shut behind him. He moved slowly, a predator assessing a trespasser. Cassie smirked, trailing a finger along the polished desk surface. “I thought we could have a little… meeting. You’ve been so busy lately.” Damon didn’t blink. He didn’t move closer. He hated women like Cassie, women who thought their last name could buy them anything, even him. “You’re sitting on my desk,” Damon said, voice cool as ice. “And wearing almost nothing,” he added, his lip curling. Cassie shrugged one slim shoulder. “I thought you’d appreciate the view.” Damon chuckled but it wasn’t a kind sound. “I don’t need you, Cassie. And I certainly don’t need your father’s money.” His eyes gleamed dangerously. “Get off my desk before I throw you off.” Cassie pouted, clearly unaccustomed to rejection, but slowly uncrossed her legs and slid down from the desk, making sure to brush against him unnecessarily as she moved past. “You’ll change your mind,” she whispered as she sashayed toward the door. Damon didn’t answer. He watched the door click shut behind her, then turned to the window, hands buried deep in his pockets, mind already shifting back to the real problem at hand. Aria Monroe. She had no idea what was coming. And Damon Wolfe wasn’t just going to ruin her. He was going to own her. Control her. *** «| ARIES KINGS HOTEL | NEW YORK CITY» The entrance of Aries Kings Hotel loomed like the gates of heaven or hell depending on one’s luck. Gleaming marble floors stretched endlessly, golden chandeliers dangled from ceilings high enough to make a queen dizzy. The scent of fresh lilies mixed with polished wood gave the entire lobby an air of luxury and power. Aria Monroe stepped in, her heels clicking nervously on the marble. She wore a simple but elegant cream dress that stopped just above her knees, cinched at the waist with a delicate brown belt. Her soft waves of hair framed her glowing, excited face. She clutched her satchel like a lifeline. At the reception desk, a smartly dressed woman smiled professionally. “Good afternoon. Welcome to Aries Kings Hotel. How may I help you?” Aria smiled back, trying not to bounce in place. “Hi! I’m here for a meeting. Wolfelux Corporation. 2 PM.” The receptionist tapped on her screen, then nodded. “You’re expected. Conference Room 703. Take the elevator to the seventh floor.” “Thank you!” Aria chirped, her heart hammering against her chest as she made her way toward the elevators. This was it. Her big break. A real publishing deal with Wolfelux! Inside the elevator, she adjusted her dress and quickly checked her reflection in the mirror. Not bad. Cute, professional, and very much ready to make her dreams come true. The elevator dinged, and she stepped into a quiet, carpeted hallway. Room 703 waited at the very end, its door slightly ajar. She knocked once, pushed it open, and peeked inside. The conference room was just as fancy as the lobby, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan’s skyline, a long mahogany table polished to a mirror shine, modern leather chairs, and a minimalist chandelier of twisted gold above. A man stood by the window, his back to her. Tall, sharply dressed in a black three-piece suit, short dark hair immaculately styled. He turned around. It wasn’t just any man. It was him. Aria gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. The face she had used for her book cover, the devastatingly handsome stranger she had plastered all over her novel, was standing in front of her in flesh and blood. Except he wasn’t just some handsome model. He was Damon Wolfe, the cold, untouchable CEO of Wolfelux Corporation and now, he was looking at her like she was something he’d enjoy breaking. She must be dreaming. Her heart skipped a beat. Then two. He’s even hotter in real life, she thought wildly. His jawline could cut glass, and his eyes, silver and sharp, pinned her where she stood. A second man stepped forward, clearing his throat politely. “Miss Monroe, I’m Victor Grant, Mr. Wolfe’s manager.” Aria nodded, dazed, moving to sit down as instructed. Before she could process more, Damon lowered himself onto the chair opposite her, his movements smooth and calculated, like a lion at rest. “So,” he began, his voice cold and rich as velvet, “you’re the one who used my face without my consent.” Aria’s mouth opened. “Y… e… yes,” she stuttered, heart hammering wildly. She smiled nervously. “I had no idea you were….” “Spare me,” Damon cut her off smoothly. “You took an image. You profited off it.” Aria’s stomach dropped. “I … I didn’t know it was you,” she said quickly. “It was just a random picture online…” “Still theft,” Damon said, voice sharp. “Still illegal.” She felt the blood drain from her face. “I’m willing to settle,” Damon said lazily, leaning back. “You pay me a compensation “ How much?” He named a figure so outrageous, so astronomical, she nearly fell off her chair. “Thirty billion dollars!!” Thirty what!! where am I going to get that…Aria panicked “I…I can’t afford that!” she gasped, panic blooming in her chest. “I don’t have that kind of money. My family, we don’t…” Damon smiled, a slow, victorious smirk. “Then you have another option,” he said, his voice dropping dangerously low. “You will work for me. As my personal secretary.” Aria blinked. “F-for how long?” He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Five. f*****g. Years.” The words dropped like bombs between them. Aria’s heart broke all over again. Five years? Her whole youth? Her whole career? “I..I can’t,” she whispered. “Then I’ll see you in court,” Damon said smoothly. “And trust me, Miss Monroe, I won't lose.” He sat back, watching her squirm, enjoying her growing desperation. He's going to sue me, she thought. Tears burned Aria’s eyes. Her writing career was over. Her dreams were crushed. Slowly, painfully, she lowered her gaze. “I… I’ll do it,” she whispered, voice cracking. A slow grin pulled at Damon’s lips, all victory, all control. “Good,” he said, standing up. “You start tomorrow.” As Aria stumbled out of the conference room minutes later, the heavy doors shutting behind her, she let out a strangled scream of frustration under her breath. “ARGH!” she cried into the empty hallway. Her phone buzzed angrily in her pocket. Olivia. Her best friend. After her parents and Alina, Olivia is the next on the list. Aria snatched it up. “I need you, Livvy!” she cried the second she answered, tears already spilling. “I’m at Brew Haven Café,” Olivia said quickly. “Get your butt here now.” ***