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Burn Me Once Burn With Me (Ruby Grayson) novel Chapter 401

The pain hit Violet so suddenly that she let go at once, howling in distress.

Ruby slipped free without breaking a sweat, and her gaze collided with Sylas’s in midair.

“Hey, cupcake.”

He shot her a mischievous wink, handing her a neatly boxed slice of raspberry Black Forest cake.

Before leaving, Sylas had hesitated, then decided to swing by and grab a piece for Ruby. Who could have guessed that in the brief moment he was gone, these two would take advantage of the opportunity?

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a glint of cold sharpness flashing through them. But when he turned to Ruby, his face was all easy smiles again.

His voice was light and teasing, the edges curling with a kind of playful innuendo.

Ruby shot him a warning glare.

With visible reluctance, Sylas straightened up, dropping the playful act and slipping back into his usual frosty composure.

“So, Gennifer sneaking into someone’s bed—that must be a trick she picked up from you, her dear stepmother, right?”

He stroked his chin, open contempt in his tone.

The words hung in the air, and both Violet and Hanley were momentarily stunned, their faces darkening as the implication set in.

Violet, all fragile grace, collapsed into Hanley’s arms. She bit her lip and said nothing, but her trembling, sorrowful expression seemed to speak volumes.

“Mr. Cunningham, I’ve always respected you because you’re Mr. Veyne’s nephew. But what gives you the right to insult the woman by my side?”

Hanley’s voice was sharp and cold.

Violet’s lips curled up ever so slightly, but outwardly she maintained her air of gentle understanding.

She tugged Hanley’s sleeve and whispered, “He’s Mr. Veyne’s nephew, after all. Hanley, there’s no need to stir up trouble on my account—it’s not worth it for you. I can handle a little insult.”

Hanley squeezed her hand. “Violet, you’ve put up with enough over the years. Besides, Gennifer is supposed to be Mrs. Veyne one day, which will make Sylas her nephew. Since when is it acceptable for the younger generation to treat their elders with such disrespect?”

Their voices dropped to hushed whispers, but Ruby caught most of their conversation anyway.

A mocking smile flickered in her eyes. Even now, with Gennifer picked up by the police, they still harbored the fantasy that she’d become Cassian’s wife?

“Well, let me do you a favor and fill you in,” Ruby said, her tone almost cheerful. “Seems like Gennifer’s little stunt didn’t work out, and before that, Cassian’s assistant Bennett personally had security escort her out. And who knows—maybe Veyne & Co. plans to hold her accountable for the whole fiasco.”

With that, Ruby flashed a breezy smile and slid into the Rolls-Royce Phantom Sylas had pulled up.

The engine roared, drowning out the street, and passersby—whose interest had just started to fade—now gasped and gossiped, hands flying to their mouths.

Hanley and Violet stood rooted, Ruby’s words echoing in their minds.

Two hours in, her nerves were already shredded. The guards had marched her past the inmates, who’d whistled, leered, and hurled crude remarks her way. The hungry, predatory looks in their eyes made her feel like she’d be devoured at any moment.

And then there was…

Gennifer swallowed hard.

Ruby had gone to prison before and been ruined by it. She couldn’t let that happen to her.

The thought sent a chill through her bones.

She couldn’t stay here—not for another minute.

“Gennifer! Listen to me,” Violet said, fighting to keep her voice calm. “Your father and I are doing everything we can.”

“Where’s Dad? He knows everyone—can’t he pull some strings and get me out?” Gennifer banged her fists on the glass, desperation rising in her voice. Violet’s eyes brimmed with worry.

“What exactly happened back at the hotel, Gennifer?” Hanley appeared then, his face grim.

Violet hurried over. “Hanley, didn’t you go see the warden? What did he say?”

Hanley looked at Violet, saying nothing.

Staring into his deep, unfathomable eyes, Violet felt her heart plummet to the floor.

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