Ruin Me: A dark college reverse harem by Eve Newton

Author:Eve Newton [Newton, Eve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Catin Publishing
Published: 2024-04-22T00:00:00+00:00

20

QUENTIN

The boiling rage is about to reach the point of no return. Every part of me wants to storm through the world searching for her, but I know that makes no sense. It will be a waste of precious time and energy. We need to focus and find the right castle to storm. I pace the length of Vogue’s living room, feeling the weight of the silence that hovers over us. Callum stands by the window, his jaw tight, while Thayer flips through notes on his phone, and Harrison rubs at his shoulder, which I’ve patched up as best I can under the circumstances.

“The Black Vipers want Crestmont,” I start, voice steady as if we’re discussing the weather, not a fucking turf war. “We let them think they can push us around, we might as well hand over our wallets and keys too.”

Callum turns from the window, eyes dark with thoughts he’s not saying. “Crestmont’s more than land. It’s influence, connections. We lose that, we’re bleeding out in shark-infested waters.”

“Rescuing Vogue puts a target on us. And her,” Harrison states, leaning back against the couch. His hands still now, folded across his chest.

“Since when do we bow to threats?” Thayer cuts in, all calculated coolness as he taps on his phone, probably already scheming.

“Since never,” I snap, my heart racing with fear for Vogue and fury at the situation. “Vogue is mine. Ours. And I’m not about to let those snakes think they can take what’s ours without a fight.”

Callum’s eyes shoot to mine when he hears my slip-up. I don’t give a fuck. I want them all to know Vogue and I shagged on the hilltop. Harry probably already knows. This changed everything for me. Last night changed me. If I lose her now, I might as well slit my wrists and bleed out because my life is worth shit without her in it.

I rub my thumb absently over the old scars from attempts past, each time thwarted by the fuckers who held me captive under the guise of family for twenty fucking years. Each nod is slow, weighted with unspoken agreements and shared resolve. This is a risk, but backing down isn’t in our playbook. Not when it comes to Vogue.

“We hit them fast, hit them hard,” I say, my mind already racing through a dozen scenarios. “Use what we know about Crestmont, turn it into our battleground.”

“Let’s plan this out, step by step,” Thayer suggests, always the voice of strategy as he sees my plan for what it is.

Callum leans back, his gaze steady as he watches me wear a path in the already thin carpet. He doesn’t rush to speak, doesn’t hurry to fill the silence. That’s his way—measured, calculated.

“Look, I get it,” I say, pausing in front of him. “There’s no guarantee we’ll come out on top. But since when do we shy away from a fight? If we don’t stand our ground, it’s not just Vogue we lose—it’s respect, fear, and control.”

“Quentin has a point,” Harrison murmurs, though his eyes are hard with concern.

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