Burn Me Once, Burn With Me novel Chapter 246

Maybe there were shortcuts that could help Ruby make her case, but as Cassian’s wife, she didn’t need anyone else stepping in on her behalf.

Cassian’s tone was sharper than ever, his resolve unyielding.

Ruby stared at him, confused and bristling with defiance. “Cassian, where was this chivalry a year ago when I needed you to speak up for me? Now you want to play the hero?”

Her retort was biting.

Cassian’s voice caught in his throat, his face draining of color. But when he met the resentment in Ruby’s eyes, the doubt he’d tried so hard to bury came creeping back.

Could it really not have been Ruby a year ago?

But only a handful of people had access to Veyne & Co.'s secrets, and Ruby was the only one deeply connected to Morgan Blackwood.

“If you’re going to leave, then go already. I don’t want to see you!”

Ruby slammed the door in his face, the sound echoing through the hallway.

The gust of air from the door felt like a rope tightening around Cassian’s neck, making it hard to breathe.

He glared at the closed door, frustration boiling up inside him.

Garrison was a businessman, ruthless and pragmatic—Cassian knew that type all too well. So why was Garrison helping Ruby? What was he really after?

Cassian let out a bitter laugh and punched the wall hard.

The sharp tang of blood filled the air as it seeped from his battered knuckles.

“Mr. Veyne! What on earth are you doing?!”

Bennett, his driver, rushed over, eyes wide with panic, looking as if he might leap out of his skin at the sight.

“Get me an invitation to the C Collective’s next charity gala,” Cassian barked, striding away without another word.

Bennett was left in a daze.

He scratched his head, bewildered. C Collective? Wasn’t Mr. Veyne the one who’d just told him to toss that invitation in the trash?

But, ever the dutiful employee, Bennett hurried to catch up, already pulling out his phone to call the C Collective’s PR department and request a new invitation.

Having Quinborough’s wealthiest man as your boss never failed to open doors.

Meanwhile, Ruby stood by the window, her gaze shadowed as she watched Cassian’s car speed down the drive.

She rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on, and sent Garrison a message, planning to meet him at the studio Pamela had arranged for her.

But just as she finished typing, a hand suddenly snatched her phone away.

His voice softened, as gentle as a mountain stream.

As he leaned forward to meet her gaze, his clear eyes locked on hers. For a second, Ruby couldn’t help but picture a big, eager dog wagging its tail.

Startled by her own thought, she took a few quick steps back, every muscle tense. “You should really check in with your uncle,” she said, realizing only then that he’d just explained his absence.

Sylas’s gaze held an intensity that made her uneasy, so she broke eye contact, determined to maintain her composure.

But Sylas wasn’t buying it. He propped an arm against the wall, posture relaxed but exuding a wild, untamed arrogance.

“Miss Grayson.”

A gravelly baritone called out from nearby.

Ruby, desperate for a distraction, looked up to see Garrison approaching—a vision of effortless elegance in a crisp, casual suit, a neatly folded pocket square at his chest, and silver strands artfully woven through his hair. Even standing still, he radiated an air of cultured sophistication.

Sylas’s eyes flicked over to Garrison, his hand tightening unconsciously.

“So, you must be Mr. Veyne’s nephew?” Garrison’s impeccable manners wouldn’t allow for awkwardness, so he addressed Sylas directly.

But Sylas just smirked coldly, making it clear—even in silence—that he held Garrison in utter contempt.

Ruby frowned, about to reprimand him, but Sylas just raised an eyebrow and lazily replied, “Sylas.”