Burn Me Once Burn With Me (Ruby Grayson) novel Chapter 527

Ruby watched his feigned seriousness and nearly laughed out loud.

If she didn’t already know that just a short while ago he’d been tangled up in Gennifer’s apartment, whispering sweet nothings to Violet, she might have actually been fooled by his little act.

“Aunt, Uncle, it’s all in the past now. There’s no need to make things difficult for Hanley. I’m not holding a grudge anymore.”

The older woman, already displeased, grew even more annoyed hearing Frieda leap to Hanley’s defense. She turned away, refusing to engage with either of them.

Traitor, siding with outsiders over your own family.

“He cheated and hurt you. If you choose to let it go, then there’s nothing more we can say about it,” the old man grunted.

Hanley let out a quiet sigh of relief—until the old man spoke again, “But I hear you’ve been pressuring Ruby, accusing her of slander, and demanding she make a statement to the press.”

The old man’s hair was completely white, his eyes clouded with age, yet behind that milky veil a sharp, almost piercing light still flickered. He tilted his head, fixing Hanley with a gaze that, despite the casual tone, landed with the force of a heavy blow.

Sweat prickled across Hanley’s forehead before he realized it, and he shot a nervous glance at Ruby.

She looked utterly unaffected.

He dropped his eyes, tugging at the drenched fabric of his suit pants, his hand trembling with tension.

Now it made sense.

No wonder the Steele family had shown up out of nowhere—and hadn’t gone to see Frieda first, but Ruby. Clearly, Ruby hadn’t found any proof that Violet was still alive, and with the deadline for the media looming, she was desperate to shift the pressure onto his side of the family.

The more Hanley thought about it, the more convinced he became of his theory.

He straightened, adopting a measured, almost calculating tone. “Uncle, I think you’re misinformed. Ruby was the one who promised the press an explanation, not me. She’s become rebellious—she’s even willing to tarnish her own father’s name. As her father, I have a responsibility not just to clear my own name, but to teach her a lesson. Actions have consequences.”

He smiled, playing the part of the stern, dutiful father.

But as soon as his words faded, the old man snorted, “You should be the one handling the media, making sure this entire mess goes away. If you can’t even protect your own children, then perhaps you’re not fit to be the head of the Grayson family.”

The old man’s words landed like a gavel—absolute, inflexible.

Hanley’s lip twitched.

The Steeles—so unreasonable and so fiercely protective of their own. Some things hadn’t changed in decades.

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