Burn Me Once, Burn With Me novel Chapter 319

With the nurse’s help, Ruby eased herself upright, wincing as the bruises across her ribs throbbed in protest.

She arched an eyebrow, a trace of a smile lingering in her eyes. “So, you’re back?”

Fanny pressed her lips together, unsure how to respond as she looked at Ruby—so frail on the hospital bed, yet still composed. After a moment, she nodded in silence.

“That’s good,” Ruby murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Fanny’s gaze lingered on Ruby, full of emotions she couldn’t put into words—admiration, confusion, even a hint of guilt. Everyone said it was Mr. Veyne who intervened, but in all the time Fanny had known him, there was only one person who could sway his decisions. And that person was sitting right in front of her.

After all that Ruby had endured, she still remembered to help her?

Fanny had always been distant, reserved—a natural fit for the law, where order and justice mattered more than friendship or warmth. She was, in every sense, a walking, breathing set of scales.

She didn’t quite understand Ruby’s choices, but for the first time, something stirred inside her—a ripple of gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said solemnly.

Ruby was momentarily taken aback by Fanny’s earnestness, then let out a quiet laugh. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I know I made it back because of you.”

Ruby said nothing, simply watching Fanny for a long moment before replying softly, “You deserve it. I love this profession too. People like you are exactly what we need—people who stay.”

Then her gaze sharpened, a hint of concern in her voice. “But are you sure it was wise to go public like that? Was it really worth the risk?”

The memory of last night flashed through Ruby’s mind. Fanny was back, yes, but that reckless move wasn’t something Ruby would’ve expected from her. Fanny, usually so calm and calculating, had gambled everything to expose the truth.

“I got promoted,” Fanny said, shaking her head.

Those simple words made everything clear to Ruby.

“Congratulations,” she said with a warm smile.

It was obvious from the new light in Fanny’s eyes that good things were happening. She wouldn’t be forced to work under anyone’s threat again.

“That means,” Ruby teased gently, “if I ever need rescuing again, you won’t have to hide behind the dumpsters for cover.”

Fanny froze, then caught on, rubbing her nose in embarrassment.

Ruby’s laughter was soft but genuine, her eyes crinkling at the corners. For once, the sterile white hospital room felt light and easy.

Meanwhile, Gennifer was under siege—her phone vibrating nonstop with calls from Farrar. After the tenth call, she feigned illness and fled home, locking herself inside her apartment.

She collapsed onto her bed, clutching her head, on the verge of breaking down. Victor and Farrar’s case had been reopened, Ruby had been rescued by Cassian… After all her maneuvering, she’d ended up right where she started.

A spark lit in Gennifer’s eyes.

Of course—not counting Ruby and that bastard child, no one else was there. Cassian wouldn’t just take Ruby at her word. As long as she stuck to her denial and pinned everything on the housekeeper, who could prove otherwise?

Her hopelessness evaporated, replaced by a surge of energy. She straightened, feeling the tension drain from her limbs.

As for Farrar’s case, she’d just keep denying any knowledge and, if necessary, pay him off to take the blame. Simple.

Her eyes gleamed—a far cry from her earlier despair.

Heart finally at ease, she remembered her angry outburst at Morgan. She’d need his help going forward; they were in this together now.

“Mr. Blackwood… about earlier, I—” she began, trying to smooth things over.

But Morgan wasn’t having it. “Gennifer, you’ve gotten where you are because of me, and you’re still this useless.”

She bit her lip, stung by the rebuke, but she didn’t dare argue.

“This is the last time I’ll help you,” he said, voice low and menacing. “You know what I want. I want Ruby to come back to me—willingly. Don’t forget what you promised.”

His words were dark and heavy, layered with a longing that had long since turned bitter.