Spin’s attention was diverted to the historical and cultural lesson on display. On the walls hung portraits of the Mondego lineage. She saw many a golden Spaniard with dark hair and curled mustaches. They were often standing or seated next to pale women of certain European descent. That was until the last portrait of a looming man with mischief in his eyes standing beside a small Asian woman.
The woman was the David to his Goliath, but there was a quiet strength about her. Unlike the other portraits where both the woman and the man looked straight ahead, her gaze was on her husband. The woman's eyes were bright, love flowed from the picture as she gazed at the man.
"That is the previous Duke and Duchess,” said Allana.
“They’ve passed away?” asked Spin.
"No.” There was something in the maid’s voice that Spin couldn’t pinpoint. “The duchess is well and in residence. She doesn’t prefer to receive visitors. His grace is very ill, which is why his son has taken over his duties. The old duke is not much longer for this world."
Spin noted that Allana didn't sound remorseful at the thought of her former employer’s demise. They walked on and came to the portrait of the current Duke of Mondego. There was the light of joy in Zhi’s eyes that Spin had seen in his mother’s loving gaze. There was also the shadow of mischief that she’d seen in his father’s calculating gaze.
“The current Duke Mondego is the best kind of people," said Allana. Pride was clear in her voice now. "He has his mother's talent. He can play the piano as though it were crafted just for him. We all thought he would become a professional musician. But he only ever plays for his mother in the music room. He’s never played in public.”
He had just played for her. Well, Spin had barged in. But she’d had the sense that he knew she was there. And he hadn’t made her feel that she’d imposed afterward.
“His grace is a dutiful man,” Allana continued. “He took over the estate when … When his father's health declined. I don’t know where we would all be without the man."
It was unlike the noble men Spin new from her past. They were all selfish and cared nothing of those they considered beneath them. Zhi was a walking contradiction. But she’d had enough of nobility and being beneath their notice for a lifetime. She had no intention of unraveling the mystery of Zhi Mondego.
Chapter Fifteen
Later that afternoon, just before dinner, Zhi sat behind his formal desk. It was nearing the prescribed time when he’d be allowed to contact Parker.
He’d changed out of his casual travel clothes and into something more formal. It felt like armor. He needed the added layer of protection after this afternoon and his run-in with the DJ. Spin had a way of getting under his skin, seeing things about him he had no intention of sharing.
He didn't usually play for anyone but his mother. It was something that was personal between the two of them. Music was private, like prayer. It should be done in one’s home and not out in the open for the masses to see and pick apart.
But he hadn't felt that way with Spin. He’d felt open. He’d wanted to share. He’d wanted to play with her, like a kid with a new toy. The new sound they’d created together had delighted him. So much so that he could’ve kissed her.
Of course, he hadn't. It had just been appreciation. That was all.
Though he couldn't deny there was something attractive about her heart-shaped face. Her lips were the same bow shape. Her top lip dipped in like the M shape of a heart's top half. Her bottom lip was plump and lush. Perfect for sinking teeth into.
"You wanted to see me?"
Zhi looked up and scowled at the woman in the doorway. Spin had snuck into his thoughts when he was supposed to be thinking about another woman. She’d also snuck up on him again.
She wore a simple pair of cotton cargo pants and a bandana around her blonde hair. Looking at her, Zhi found himself swallowing a few times. He’d seen women dressed in ball gowns and in their birthday suits. Such a simply clad body should have no effect on him. He crossed his legs beneath the table and scowled deeper.
Ignoring his ducal look of displeasure, she rolled her eyes and slipped inside the office. Coming into the room, she dipped a curtsy that reeked of mockery. "You wanted to see me, Your Grace?"
He nearly told her to leave the ceremony but didn't. He found the formality a necessary barrier between them. She was there to do a job. This was a transaction. He'd use her skills, her knowledge, to advance his cause. His cause was to gain the attention of Parker who could help him in saving his home and the people he loved.
"Have a seat Miss …"
He was annoyed he didn't have that added barrier of formality between them. He still didn’t know her real name. He had no clue who this woman truly was. She guarded the details of her life like an encrypted file.
What was she hiding? What might she take from him if he took his eyes off her? She could be a criminal.
Spin eyed him with a taunting smile, as though she knew the trajectory of his thoughts. Her lifted brow dared him to ask.
He didn't. There wasn't much of value left in the estate. His father had sold off every heirloom worth more than a red cent to pay his debts. All that was left was fake or of sentimental value.
Besides, Spin would be leaving shortly. After she helped him out with this last task.
"I've waited the agreed upon hours before contacting Parker,” he said. “It’s time.”
"That's a good boy," Spin mocked.
Zhi grit his teeth. His tone was pleasant and professional when he spoke. “Please, help me craft this text message to her. Then you can help me with a bit of lingo while we wait for the response."
Spin held her hand out for his phone. "Let's see what you got, lover boy."
Instead of his phone, he offered her a sheet of legal paper.
He watched her eyes rapidly read over what he’d composed. "This is a letter."
"Yes." Zhi nodded.
Spin shook her head. She leaned over his desk and snatched his phone before he could react. By the time he made it around the desk and the barriers he’d erected, she was hitting send.
He looked down at the missive that would start his pursuit. It read; sup.
No upper case letters or punctuation in sight. Just those three simple letters that made no sense.
"Sup? What does that even mean?"
"What is up?" She enunciated every word.
"In what language?"
Spin ignored him. Three dots inside a bubble appeared on his phone's face. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.
"Should I clarify?" said Zhi. “Should we type all three of those words followed by a question mark?”
Spin yanked the phone out of his reach and frowned at him, exasperation clear on her pretty face. A ding sounded, alerting them that there was a response. Spin pulled the phone back to her so that they both could read.
It read: chillaxing.
Still no upper case letters. No punctuation.
"Is that even English?" he asked.
Spin sighed and pursed her lips.
"What?” Zhi bent over her looking from the two-worded conversation and back to her scrunched face. “What's wrong?"
"It's a declarative statement," she said.
"What's that mean?" he said. He knew what a declarative statement was. But not in that context.
"She didn't elaborate.”
"That's bad?"
“It means she's not thinking about you.”
Zhi straightened. That was bad.
"Don't worry, Romeo. I've got this."
Spin started typing again. He was gratified to see that it was more than a three letter word. And there was a capitalized letter. Though still no punctuation.
My head still ringing from all that base spin dropped
"Why are you making this about you?" Zhi asked.
"I'm your common link," Spin said. “We need to get her chatting.”
The bubble burst immediately this time with a message. That chick
s got wicked skillz.
Spin typed: True dat. That song by Gkat was boss. I had to nap after that.
Gkat is dope. U heard his new song?
Spin tapped out three fire emojis followed by: Yass, it gave me life.
"Wait?” said Zhi, trying to keep up with the foreign words and mostly failing. But he did recognize some. “I know that guy, Gkat. He’s playing at Omar’s club.”
Spin took that tidbit and typed; you rolling up on them at omers tmrw?
“His name is spelled with an A—”
“Shh!” Spin admonished him.
Parker typed; sure nuff.
Spin typed; c u there.
A peace sign emoji was Parker’s response. And then the bubble went silent.
Spin handed Zhi back his phone.
"Wait?” he said. “That's it?”
She nodded.
“So, we have a date?"
"Not a date," said Spin. “A hangout. People our age don't one-on-one date. We hang out in groups."
Zhi glared down at his phone. "I wanted to spend time alone with her, to get to know her."
“Well to do that you’ll have to entice her from the pack."
"How do I do that?"
"Charm her pants off."
"Be serious," Zhi huffed.
"I am. This is the new world. Unless you're going for the straight hook up, you need to hang with the friends and get in with everybody first.”
"She's only here for a few days. I don't have time for that."
"What's the rush?" Spin leaned back in the chair. She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him.
She was wearing a new t-shirt today. This one read Weapons of Mass Percussion. The corner of Zhi’s mouth quirked up a bit before he remembered her question.
He opened his mouth and closed it. Those eyes saw right through him. He felt the urge to tell Spin the truth. But the shame in his chest stopped him.
He told the emotion to get lost. He wasn’t doing anything shameful. He was trying to get to know a woman to see if they were compatible. And if it turned out they were, he would be devoted to her. His life would be spent making her happy. How could he do otherwise if she saved everything he held dear.
But Spin’s raised brow said she smelled something fishy. Before he could decide how to convince Spin that his intentions were good, a crash sounded overhead followed by a spine-tingling roar and then a heartrending cry of pain.
Zhi took off. He forgot about Parker and Spin. He had to get to his mother before that beast could do her any more harm.
He raced up the stairs, climbing to the third floor where they’d secluded him so that he could hurt no one but himself. But he always got to her. Mainly because his mother wouldn’t leave her husband alone.
Lin sat outside the door, trembling as she hesitated. She had been with the family all her life. She knew better than to go in and get between them.
Zhi’s mom was on the ground, holding a shaking hand to her face. A trickle of blood spilled through the space between her index and third finger. His father held his food tray up high, preparing to launch it at her. Zhi went for the tray.
He subdued his father. The old man balled his fists and threw some punches Zhi’s way. They were ineffective.
Still, Zhi wanted to punch the monster. He’d cost this family so much hurt, anger, pain. This was all his fault. All of it. He’d ruined so many lives with his selfish ways. And he wouldn’t have to pay for any of it now that it was coming due. The old beast deserved to hurt for his crimes.
All it would take would be one blow from Zhi. That would be enough to end it all. The former duke’s features sobered when he looked up into his son’s eyes. Like the coward he was, he cowered before his fully grown and capable son.
Zhi saw the fear in his father's eyes. But worse, he saw his reflection in his father's gaze. The sight reminded Zhi of looking up at his father while the enraged man towered over him as a boy.
No. That wasn’t Zhi. That would never be him.
Slowly, he caught his breath, but his glaring eyes never left the old man. “Mark my words, for I’ll only say this once, touch her again, and I will send you to an institution. The cheapest one with the worst reputation that I can find.”
The fear in the old man's gaze told Zhi he had heard him. That despite his memory and sense stealing disease, that Zhi would not have to repeat himself again.
With that settled, Zhi turned to tend to his mother. He searched until he found where she lay on the floor. But she wasn’t alone. She was in Spin’s arms.
Chapter Sixteen
After racing up to the third floor behind the duke, Spin froze at the threshold of the open door. From the corner of her eye, she saw the maid, Lin, trembling and shaking her head. Her once perfectly coiffed bun now dropped at her shoulder, slowly unfurling as the wisps of hair escaped capture. Instead of heeding the maid’s warning, Spin stepped over the threshold of the room.
Inside, she found a gruesome scene. There was a monster lying on the bed. Zhi towered over him, a look of pure hatred in his eyes.
It should’ve scared her. It didn’t. What had scared her was the prior expression that had darkened his features. She'd raced behind Zhi after seeing the light going out of his eyes and a look of terror spread across his face.
She knew that look. She'd seen it before. She’d felt its cold heart lick at her heels when she was a kid. So, she'd race up the stairs behind him and onto the forbidden third floor. Into a scene, she’d seen too many times before.
It was an unfamiliar face, but the expression of the monster in the bed was all too familiar. Contempt, fear, and insecurity were all scratched up in the haggard lines of his features. His eyes, so like Zhi’s, landed on her, and Spin flinched under his scrutiny. Then Zhi was there, blocking him from her view.
With the trance broken, Spin returned back to the present and the aftermath. Something had been thrown. There were shards of glass on the floor.
Her mind worked to put the pieces back together. The porcelain handle gave away the mystery. A teacup had been thrown.
The fragments revealed another mystery. There were drops of blood on the fibers of the lush carpeting. Spin followed the sanguine trail to the trembling woman.
Spin had to shake herself again. To bring herself back to the present moment. To remind herself that it was not her mother this time.
Crouching down like approaching a wounded animal, Spin made slow movements toward the woman. But there was no need for caution. She could tell the woman wasn't the type to ever lash out. She was the type to take what was thrown at her as her due. In fact, one of her delicate hands reached to pick up the cup’s handle. She halted when her own blood touched her fingertips.
With gentle fingers, Spin took the cup from trembling hands and set it aside. The woman turned to face her. Spin saw Zhi looking back at her.
This was the woman from the portrait. The one with the brightest look of love in her eyes. That light had gone out, probably long ago.
Blood trickled down the side of the duchess’ head, threatening to spill into the corner of her eyes. Spin unwrapped her head scarf. It was freshly laundered, so she didn’t worry about any contamination. She was meticulous about her care for the few items she did possess. Folding the scrap of cloth, Spin pressed it to the duchess’ cheek.
“No, my dear, don't." Her voice was like feathers floating down from a clear, blue sky. “Please don’t ruin your things for a scratch.”
It wasn’t a scratch. It would likely need stitches. Spin was certain the staff and her son would have to fight the duchess to seek care outside the home. So, she would have to use underhanded tactics to press an insignificant bandana to the woman’s head.
“You have such beautiful eyes,” Spin said. “Just like your son’s.”
The shame retreated from her beautiful face at the compliment that referenced her son. But not entirely. The duchess’ smile was tentative. But it provided a momentary distraction. The han
d she’d raised in protest lowered, allowing Spin to press the cloth to the trickle of red on her temple.
"I saw the painting of you and your family in the hall," said Spin. “I stopped in my tracks when I saw how beautiful your smile was.”
“You’re very kind to say so.” The duchess winced, and then closed her eyes and gave over to Spin’s care.
Spin knew the drill. If she addressed the issue of the moment, the woman would retreat inside herself. Just like her mother would've done.
With the blood cleared from her wound, Spin saw that it wasn’t as bad as it looked. It wouldn’t need stitches after all. Just some antiseptic and a Band-Aid.
The duchess’ eyes were still closed as she allowed Spin to mend her wound. A solitary tear formed at the corner of her eye. Before it could drop, she swept her tear away. Spin had the overwhelming urge to open her arms and hug the woman to her.
"Thank you, my dear," said the duchess. Her voice was so soft, like broken china. She took the bloodied bandana out of her hand. “I’ll have this laundered for you."
"Mǔqīn?"
The duchess lifted her head to her son. "I'm okay, darling. It was just an accident. I slipped as I was serving tea. I’m such a clumsy woman.”
Zhi’s jaw tensed. His eyes glazed over. It was as though his eyelids closed. But they hadn’t. He was staring with them wide open. Spin had her own pair of shuttered lenses that turned the dark world a fake rosy gold.
He came over and offered his mom a hand. As she rose, Spin had to stop herself from reaching out to help the older woman up. Somehow, she looked even smaller as she rose.
Zhi made to steer her out the door, but his mother circumvented his efforts. She went instead to the bed. Her husband recoiled as she leaned over him. He hadn’t needed to.
Spin looked away as the duchess leaned over to plant a kiss on the man's forehead. His eyes closed as she did. They remained closed as she rose.
The Duke and the DJ: a Sweet Royal Romance (The Rebel Royals Series Book 3) Page 8