Burn Me Once, Burn With Me novel Chapter 212

“Ruby!”

Cassian’s voice cut through the air, cold and hard as frost.

“Leave us.”

Ruby barely spoke above a whisper, her gaze fixed on the floor. She didn’t spare Cassian another glance.

Exhaustion suddenly crashed over her, leaving her feeling like a wounded cat, curled up and licking its own wounds—lonely, powerless, and tired to the bone.

For a long, frozen moment, no one moved. Then came the soft click of the hospital room door closing.

Ruby let her eyes fall shut, her thin shoulders sinking into the pillows behind her.

“Was it Gennifer who set this up?”

Victor had settled back into the chair, his eyes full of open concern.

“Yeah.” Ruby pressed her lips together.

Victor looked at her, sitting just an arm’s length away, and felt a complicated ache in his chest. He reached out, meaning to ruffle her hair like he used to, but stopped short and let his hand fall, sighing.

“It’s all right. I’m back in Quinborough now, and you’re not alone here—not while I’m around.”

His voice was gentle, trying to reassure her.

Ruby blinked, a strange warmth blooming in her chest. She and Victor had once been colleagues and close friends; she had often confided in him about how isolated she felt in this city. She never imagined he’d remember something so small.

Her nose stung.

“Oh, right—” Victor’s expression shifted, his jaw tightening with sudden seriousness.

Ruby glanced up, puzzled, as Victor found something on his phone and handed it to her. “I saw this online. It felt off, so I asked around about you—only then did I realize you’d landed in the hospital. I came right over.”

Ruby took the phone and looked at the headline.

#RubyWearsFakeDressAtGennifer’sVictoryParty

Beside it, a flaming red “Trending Now” icon blazed, showing just how hot the topic was.

She tapped the link. The top photo was a shot of her back, dressed in her “C Collective” evening gown.

Scrolling down, she saw the comments—over a hundred thousand already, and it had only been two hours.

Her hand curled into the sheets, twisting the fabric into a crease.

But deep down, she already knew who was behind this smear campaign. She’d thought that if she just kept her head down, she could live in peace. But some people simply refused to let her be.

Ruby’s eyes grew cold.

Maybe…it was time to pick up the pace.

“If you need backup, I’m here,” Victor said quietly, sensing the shift in her mood.

Ruby smiled. “This time, I want to handle it myself. But if I need help, Mr. Hargrove, I hope you’ll be there.”

“Always.”

They exchanged a look, a faint smile of understanding passing between them.

At last, the air in the hospital room felt a little lighter.

But as Ruby lowered her gaze, her brows drew together in thought.

One of the trending posts was about her so-called knockoff C Collective dress. But her “Blancphénix” gown was a private commission—it bore no C Collective branding at all. So how had anyone identified it as theirs?