Burn Me Once, Burn With Me novel Chapter 420

Ruby’s hair brushed lightly against him as she moved—confident, brisk, every gesture sharp and clean.

Sylas trailed behind, feeling the faintest tug at the back of his neck. It wasn’t nearly enough to force him forward, but somehow, that tiny pull wrapped around him like a silken thread, binding his gaze to Ruby’s hand.

Her fingers were pale, the tips flushed just slightly pink from the pressure.

They walked together, not too close, not too far apart—just enough for the faint scent of Ruby’s perfume to drift toward him, teasing his senses every time she moved. The fragrance lingered, soft and persistent, and Sylas felt as if all the strength had drained from his body. He let himself be led, completely at her mercy.

They made their way downstairs almost without realizing it. Only when the cool morning air hit his face did Sylas snap out of his daze and straighten up.

“I’ll get it,” he said before Ruby could turn around, quickly stepping ahead to open the door for her.

The overly eager gesture made Ruby pause and look at him twice, but Sylas just rubbed his nose and avoided her gaze.

As soon as Ruby slid into the passenger seat, Sylas circled to the driver’s side, his heart skipping a beat.

“What’s this?” Ruby asked, picking up a small card left on her seat.

“That’s the invitation to Violet’s funeral,” Sylas explained. “Strange, really. Not long ago, Hanley was practically shouting from the rooftops that you were to be kept far away from anything to do with the family. He went out of his way to have you excluded when he sold his shares. Clearly, he’s wary of you. But this funeral? Much less trouble than I expected.”

Ruby gazed out the window, the cityscape rolling by, a faint, knowing smile curving her lips. “If it’s not trouble, that’s the real surprise. For all we know, Hanley’s hoping I’ll show up.”

Sylas chuckled. “We’ll make sure he gets what’s coming to him.”

Because the funeral was set for the morning, and Ruby had rushed out after doing her makeup, she hadn’t had a bite to eat. Now, slouched in the car, her face was pale and drawn.

When Sylas realized this, he led her straight toward the refreshment area the moment they got out.

This funeral, at least, hadn’t imposed any overbearing rules on the guests. If it had been held indoors, the place would’ve been packed to bursting, but as things were, the event was set on the grassy lawn outside the chapel.

All around them, young heirs and heiresses of prominent families mingled in simple black and white outfits, while reporters circled the perimeter, cameras flashing. The crowd was thick, a sea of monochrome stretching as far as the eye could see.

Across the lawn, Hanley glared at the security monitors, eyes narrowed. The cameras were set up far back, only able to capture vague silhouettes, but even from a distance, the two vivid splashes of color in the crowd were unmistakable.

Hanley clenched his fists, knuckles cracking.

“Dad, Ruby’s making a mockery of us!” Gennifer hissed, anger flashing in her eyes.

Still, her gaze lingered mostly on Sylas.

The two of them—one in crimson, one in magenta—stood out like wildflowers in a field of black and white. Gennifer stared, jaw tight.

Why? Why does Ruby always get so lucky?

She’d barely finished divorcing Cassian, and already she was attached at the hip to Sylas. Even if Sylas wasn’t quite Cassian’s equal, as his nephew, his wealth and status easily surpassed most of the young men here.