The Edge of Ruin
1073 Words
The chill in the car was no longer from the night air outside. It radiated directly from the screen of my phone.
I have the video from the patio three weeks ago.
The thumbnail image burned into my retinas. It wasn’t a blurry, ambiguous snapshot taken from a distance. Even on the tiny screen, the lighting from the patio sconce caught the sharp edge of Mason’s jaw, the dark fabric of his jacket, and my fingers tangled desperately in his collar while his mouth crushed mine.
Every pulse of blood in my body went backward. My lungs seized.
"Nora?"
Mason’s voice broke through the deafening ringing in my ears. He was still watching me, his hand resting heavy and warm over my lower belly. The contrast between his protective touch and the poison sitting in my palm almost made me throw up.
"Nora, what is it?" His tone shifted, the softness vanishing, replaced by that dangerous, low rasp that meant he was losing his patience. "Who sent that text?"
My instincts screamed at me to turn the phone off, to hide it, to play it cool. But the thumbnail was still staring back at me. Tomorrow morning. The threat wasn't vague anymore; it had a deadline. If Jade saw that video tomorrow morning, my life was over. The baby, Mason, my friendship, my self-respect—everything would burn to the ground in a single click.
"Look," I choked out, my voice barely a thread.
I didn't hand him the phone. I just angled the screen toward him.
Mason’s eyes dropped to the display. I watched the exact second his brain processed the image.
The color didn't leave his face—instead, his expression turned to pure, unadulterated stone. The muscle in his jaw clenched so hard a vein bulged along his neck. The air in the SUV suddenly felt so thick it was hard to draw a breath.
"Where did you get this?" he asked, his voice deathly quiet.
"It was sent to my phone," I whispered, my chest heaving as tears of pure frustration finally spilled over my eyelashes. "Right after you pulled me out of the foyer. Mason... someone was out there that night. Someone recorded us."
He reached out and took the phone from my hand. He didn't snatch it; his movement was smooth, controlled, and terrifyingly deliberate. He tapped the thumbnail, expanding the image, studying the angle.
"It was taken from the second-floor balcony," Mason muttered, his eyes narrowing into cold slits of steel. "Behind the ivy trellis. The only people who had access to the upper level during the engagement party were family and the catering crew."
"Family?" The word hit me like a slap. "You think someone in your family recorded us?"
"Or someone hired to be there," Mason growled. He tapped the unknown number, hitting the call button, and brought the phone to his ear.
My heart slammed against my ribs as we listened to the silence of the speaker. One ring. Two rings. Three.
Then a click.
Mason didn't hesitate. "Listen to me very carefully," he said into the phone, his voice dropping into a register so dark and threatening it sent a shiver straight down my spine. "You have five minutes to delete whatever file you think you're holding, or I will track this line to your front door and tear your life apart piece by piece."
A distorted, metallic laugh came through the speaker. It was run through a voice synthesizer, high-pitched and unnatural.
"Threats don't work on me, Mason," the voice rasped out. "You took something that wasn't yours, and now the price has to be paid. Tell Nora to keep her coat on. She's going to need it when Jade throws her out into the street."
The line went dead with a harsh beep.
Mason slowly brought the phone down, staring at the blank screen. The silence inside the car was suffocating.
"Who was that?" I asked, my voice trembling so badly I had to wrap my arms around myself. "Mason, who took something that wasn't theirs? What does that mean?"
Mason didn't answer immediately. He stared out into the dark, rain-slicked road ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"Julianna’s family," he said softly, though the words carried the weight of a sledgehammer. "Her older brother, Carter. He was at the party. He's been trying to force a merger between our logistics companies for two years, but my father refused to sign until Carter got a seat on our board."
"Carter?" I repeated, memory flashing back to the engagement party—a tall, slicked-back man with cold eyes who had spent half the night standing near the bar, watching everyone like chess pieces. "Why would he record us?"
"Leverage," Mason hissed, turning to look at me. His hand reached out, cupping the back of my neck and pulling me toward him until our foreheads brushed. "If he leaks that video, it destroys the family reputation right before the quarterly board meeting. It ruins Jade's wedding, breaks my mother's influence, and forces my father to agree to whatever terms Carter sets just to keep the scandal out of the papers."
"And what about me?" I choked out, tears blurring my vision. "I'm just collateral damage to him?"
"You are mine," Mason growled, his mouth pressing hard against mine in a fierce, protective kiss that tasted of rain and copper. "I told you, Nora. Nobody touches you. Nobody uses you to get to me."
He pulled back just far enough to look into my eyes, his grip on my neck firm and unyielding.
"We are not going to wait for him to send that video to Jade," Mason said, his voice laced with an absolute, terrifying authority. "We're going to his estate right now."
My eyes widened in terror. "What? Mason, no! It's midnight! You can't just storm into Carter Van Doren's house!"
"I'm not going to storm in," Mason murmured, a dark, predatory smile touching the corner of his lips as he shifted the car back into drive and slammed his foot onto the accelerator. The engine roared, tearing down the dark highway. "I'm going to take back what's ours."
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