Burn Me Once, Burn With Me novel Chapter 9

"What should we do, Mr. Veyne? Maybe I should get out and help her," the driver said quietly, a hint of sympathy in his voice.

He was a father himself and scenes like this always tugged at his heart.

Before Cassian could answer, Gennifer's lips curled in distaste. "You're Cassian's driver. Isn't it humiliating for him if you start sweeping the streets? Just drive around her."

The driver hesitated. "Well… why don't we wait a couple more minutes, Mr. Veyne? She'll be done soon." Anyone could see the problem: the street was so narrow, if they drove past now, the tires would send a wave of dirty water straight onto the woman.

It had rained all night. The puddles were filthy—and in weather this cold, anyone would get sick.

Especially a woman out here with a child.

"She has no one to blame but the weather. We're not being cruel—it's just bad luck that she's sweeping this street today," Gennifer muttered.

Then she caught sight of Cassian's silent, stony profile and, nerves prickling, quickly changed her tune. "Cassian, it's not that I don't feel sorry for her, it's just—"

Her excuse was cut short by the man's icy voice.

"She's just a street cleaner. Drive on."

He gave Gennifer's hand a gentle pat, his tone suddenly soft. "I know—you're worried about being late for the meeting." But when he turned back to the driver, his voice was cold as steel. "What, did you not hear me?"

The driver flinched, jaw clenched, and pressed down on the gas.

The car surged forward. Water exploded into the air, spraying up from the tires, most of it spattering the woman squarely as only a few stray drops fell harmlessly back to the pavement.

She froze, shivering violently, arms instinctively wrapped around her chest.

She didn't even have the strength to pick up the broom she'd dropped.

The car sped away.

In the rearview mirror, Gennifer shot a satisfied glance back, pride shimmering in her eyes.

Serves her right, she thought smugly. Who does this filthy woman think she is, blocking the way for Cassian and me?

She quickly tried to wipe them away, afraid her tears would dampen the baby's blanket and make her cold. But the moment her fingers touched the fabric, she realized her hand was filthy—dirty water had stained the baby's only warm cocoon.

Clutching the wailing child, Ruby looked down at Mira's scrunched, red face and suddenly couldn't hold herself upright any longer. She bent double, breathing hard.

She'd seen the scene inside that car—her former husband, her once cherished protégé, her own flesh and blood sister, nestled together.

She'd fallen to rock bottom in a single night, while they sat secure on thrones built from the wreckage of her reputation and pride.

She had loved the wrong man, given everything, and now all she had left was retribution. Who else could she blame?

But Mira—Ruby hugged her daughter tighter, as if to keep out the cold and the world.

Her scarf slipped, revealing her face at last.

It was a striking face, delicate as a watercolor on white paper: expressive eyes, an elegant nose, lips tinged rose. But a single jagged scar slashed across her left cheek, marring everything, drawing startled looks from anyone who saw.