To ruin an Omega

Chapter 189: Card

FIA

The door opened.

Ronan stepped through it without knocking, his movements brisk and purposeful, like he had been waiting just outside for his moment to enter. His gaze swept the room once, taking inventory of faces and positions before settling on Cian.

“I heard about the emissaries,” he said. “So I came as quickly as I could. What is going on?”

I turned toward him. “They came to get me.”

His brow lifted slightly. “Get you?”

“Hazel is facing a trial in the elder circle for what she did to me… among all her other crimes,” I said. “They need me there.”

Something shifted in Ronan’s expression. Not surprise exactly. More like recalibration, like he was adjusting the weight of information he had already suspected. He straightened, then turned toward the emissaries and bowed with measured politeness.

“Welcome to Skollrend,” he said.

Elder Matthias inclined his head. Elder Vera mirrored the gesture without speaking. Marcus remained still, his posture neutral but watchful.

Cian’s voice cut through the exchange. “Ronan. I need you to get Garrett prepped. He will be escorting Fia.”

Ronan’s head snapped back toward Cian. “Surely a sentinel is not enough.”

Baruch stepped forward slightly, his tone even and professional. “It is protocol, Beta.”

Ronan’s jaw tightened. His gaze flicked between Baruch and Cian, searching for something that would give him leverage to argue. “A Luna of your pack attempted to murder our Luna,” he said. “Forgive us for being safe. Who knows what else could happen?”

I held up a hand before Cian could respond. “I appreciate the concern,” I said, keeping my voice calm but firm. “But I have agreed to this. Also… my birth pack is not out to get me. Even if there are bad actors. It is just a trial. Sentinel Garrett is more than enough to protect me.”

Ronan turned fully toward Cian, his frustration barely contained beneath his controlled exterior. “Cian, you cannot possibly be—”

“It is fine,” Cian interrupted. “She is right.”

Ronan stared at him for a long moment. I could see the tension coiling in his shoulders, the way his hands flexed once at his sides like he wanted to push back harder but knew better. There was something too eager in his concern, something that made the hair on the back of my neck prickle.

It was almost like he wanted to be in vicinity with me at Silver Creek.

I still did not have concrete proof that Ronan was a traitor. But I did not trust him one bit.

“Just help me get Garrett,” Cian said.

Ronan nodded once, stiff and mechanical. Then he turned and left without another word, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

Cian turned back to me. His hand found mine again, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in slow, deliberate strokes. “Be safe,” he said.

“I will,” I replied. “After all, it will only be a day.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead, lingering there for a breath longer than necessary. When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine one last time, looking for cracks he could shore up before I left. He would not find any. Not because they were not there, but because I had learned how to hold them closed.

Garrett arrived within minutes. He stepped into the room with quiet efficiency, his expression professional and alert. He nodded once to Cian, then to me, and positioned himself near the door without needing instruction.

The emissaries moved first. Elder Matthias and Elder Vera rose together, their movements synchronized in a way that spoke of decades working side by side. Marcus followed without fanfare, his gaze sweeping the room one last time before he stepped through the door.

Garrett glanced at me. “Ready, Luna Fia?”

I nodded.

We moved as a group toward the exterior of the estate. The air outside was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. The emissaries’ car sat waiting, its engine already humming softly. Elder Matthias and Elder Vera climbed inside without ceremony. Marcus closed the door behind them and moved to the driver’s seat.

Garrett turned toward the garage. “I will get the car,” he said.

That left Baruch and me standing alone.

The silence stretched between us, not uncomfortable but weighted with things unsaid. I turned toward him, measuring him the way he had been measuring me since he arrived.

“So,” I said. “Milo’s brother.”

Baruch nodded once. “I heard a lot about you from my brother.”

I laughed, short and sharp. “Did he also tell you what he did to me?”

Baruch’s expression did not change, but something flickered behind his eyes. “He sent a voicemail after,” he said. “Said he regretted what he put you through.”

I waited.

“At the time, I did not know why he sent a remorseful message to me saying he was going to make what he did to you right,” Baruch continued. “But once my grandmother got his decapitated body to bury, I realized something was amiss.”

The words landed cleanly. No embellishment. No attempt to soften them.

“You became a Silver Creek sentinel to get justice,” I said.

“Revenge,” Baruch corrected.

His gaze held mine, steady and unwavering.

“I wanted to get close to your sister,” he said. “Gain her trust. Her love. Use her list. Then ruin her.”

I tilted my head slightly. “My sister is not capable of love.”

“You will be surprised,” Baruch replied.

I looked at him for a long moment. “That is where you would be a fool.”

He frowned slightly, the first crack in his composed exterior.

“I am sure that is what Milo thought too,” I continued. “That Hazel loved him. That she was capable of it. But I grew up with her. She is not.”

Baruch’s jaw tightened. “I do not love her. But I wanted her to trust me. Before I gutted her and betrayed her in the worst way possible.”

“I got to her first,” I said. “So what could you possibly need my help for?”

I paused, then added, “Because for all I know, you could be working for her and this is simply trickery.”

The sound of an engine approaching interrupted whatever Baruch might have said. The car rolled toward us slowly, its headlights cutting through the dim morning light.

Baruch stepped closer, his voice dropping lower. “I would never be that way.”

The car continued its approach.

“With the charges put against Hazel, she wants to escape some of it,” Baruch said quickly. “The Milo part of it. By exterminating me and my grandmother.”

I stilled.

“Assassins were sent to our home early today while people still slept,” he continued. “If I had not gotten it out of Hazel yesterday, my grandmother would have been tortured to reveal my identity and then killed.”

His eyes searched mine.

“I need your help to save myself and my grandmother,” he said.

The car pulled to a stop directly in front of us. Garrett climbed out and moved around to open the back door for me.

“We should probably get in,” I said.

Baruch nodded and opened the door wider. I slid into the back seat, the leather cool against my skin. Baruch closed the door behind me and moved to join Garrett in the front seat.

The car settled into silence for a moment. Garrett adjusted the rearview mirror, his gaze flicking to me once before returning to the road ahead.

I leaned forward slightly. “You can continue,” I said to Baruch.

He glanced at Garrett, then back at me.

“It is fine,” I said. “Garrett is no problem. It is why I chose him.”

Baruch exhaled slowly, then shifted in his seat to face me more directly.

“Hazel or your parents do not know yet that I am Milo’s half brother,” he said. “But they will eventually piece it together somehow.”

“So you want to strike now?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “I want to strike while it is hot and never give her a chance to recover. That is is why I need your help. You are hee kryptonite right now. But you are not enough to run her to the fucking ground and ensure she never recovers.”

“Well… I guess I was wrong about you.” I confessed. “It would also make sense why Hazel wants you dead. Attempted murder is a horrible charge. But she did not quite follow through. The worst she will suffer from me is demotion. It will still hurt her fucking pride. But I am sure she will be more than glad to be alive.”

“It was sick seeing how rotten her nature was and being unable to just strangle her right there,” Baruch said. “She even smiled when she said it. That same smile you probably know well. She seems to believe the world is against her for crimes she willingly committed.”

I did know the smile. The one that said she had already won and was just waiting for you to realize it.

“You could run and hide, you know.” I spoke. “if I am being frank with you, I am not keen on touching anything regarding Milo.”

“I am not running,” Baruch replied. “She wants me and my grandmother dead before the trial. Before I can testify about what I know. About what my brother told me. You might fucking hate Milo for the atrocities he committed towards you. But… this doesn’t have to come from a high ground and a beautiful moral compass. Use me. Use me to take Hazel down.”

Garrett’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He did not speak, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched slightly.

“What exactly did he tell you?” I asked.

Baruch turned fully in his seat now, his gaze locking onto mine. “Everything,” he said.

“Everything?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “About how she manipulated him. How she used his feelings to control him. How she laughed when he started believing his own lies about being important to her.”

My chest tightened.

“And I have the voicemail too,” he added. “I can give it to you. It would help the case. Greatly.”

I said nothing.

The silence stretched. His gaze drifted, unfocused at first, then calculating, like he was rifling through options in his head. I watched the exact moment he found one. His eyes sharpened. Brightened. Like he had struck gold.

He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a small white card, holding it up between two fingers before angling it toward me.

“Hazel had this.”

It looked like a business card.

My stomach tightened as I reached for it. The card was smooth and stiff between my fingers, too clean to be meaningless. I lowered my eyes and read it, already knowing whatever was printed there was not meant to be in my hands at all.

Two words did stick out.

Gabriel Donlon.