Burn Me Once Burn With Me (Ruby Grayson) novel Chapter 247

It wasn’t a simple yes or no—Sylas Cunningham’s presence was nothing short of audacious.

Garrison’s gaze darkened.

Cunningham?

He straightened up, poise and caution in his movements, and offered a polite half-bow. “My apologies, Mr. Cunningham.”

Sylas scoffed but didn’t bother to reply.

It was Ruby who finally broke the awkward silence. “Sylas, if you’re looking for your uncle, head to Veyne & Co. If it’s me you want, I’m afraid I’m busy.”

Ruby’s eyes were sharp, instantly seeing through Sylas’s intentions.

Sylas looked deflated, ready to protest, but could only watch helplessly as Ruby and Garrison got into the car and drove off.

He grumbled inwardly, left standing alone and frustrated.

She had forgotten everything, so why did she still keep him at arm’s length?

Sylas couldn’t figure it out. Irritated, he slid into his limited-edition sports car, slamming the door a little harder than necessary.

As Sylas cruised the city streets, Ruby asked Garrison to pull over.

They stopped in a secluded alleyway.

Ruby pushed open an old, creaky door. The sight inside made Garrison’s eyes widen. He’d expected a cramped, cluttered studio—what he found instead was a space full of quiet wonder.

The entrance was dilapidated, but inside, the pure white walls and empty golden racks created an atmosphere of striking serenity.

Minimalist—that was the word that fit this place, yet it was elegant in its own unique way.

“It’s a little bare-bones, please, have a seat,” Ruby said gently, apologetic, and waved for Pamela to bring some tea.

Pamela was all but buzzing with excitement, her eyes darting between Ruby and Garrison.

Ruby took the hint and sent her off.

“I have to say, I’m surprised,” Garrison admitted, taking a sip of Pamela’s tea. He paused, brow furrowing, and set the cup down.

Ruby caught his discomfort and quickly brewed him a fresh cup of coffee.

He accepted with a sheepish smile.

“I sensed you wanted to clear things up, so I moved the gala up to tomorrow. I hope that’s not too short notice—are you ready?” Garrison’s tone was warm and respectful, as calm as the tea beside him.

“Absolutely,” Ruby replied with confidence, handing him a portfolio.

Garrison took it, flipping through the sketches. Suddenly, his expression stilled.

Selina was known for her daring ideas.

The design was deceptively simple—a sleek gown, with the hem painted in flames. Some were snuffed out, leaving blackened traces; others still licked upward, alive with fire.

The model’s head was crowned with a pristine white veil, draping down to the neck and studded with rubies, as if it might catch fire the next second and reveal her face.

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