Masochist

by Nadia Aidan

  Captured inside a small black velvet pouch were four rings— the four rings—one for each fire…for each brother. Before the fire in his penthouse, Ares had turned the rings over to him and he’d placed them in his safe. He’d come back to retrieve them.

  Selena claimed she hadn’t left the rings and that Jarrod had not either. Adonis opened the pouch and pulled out one ring to study it. Diamonds sparkled in the platinum band, identical to the one Dieu had once owned. She’d said she’d had nothing to do with it, and Adonis was inclined to believe her. How would she have known?

  How would she have known of the symbolic meaning of such an object? Known of the hellish memories that seeing this ring again had dredged up for each and every one of his brothers…and for him?

  No, Selena would not know what these rings meant to him and to his brothers. But the rings had been left by someone, and Adonis wanted to know who…and to what end?

  The sound of something clicking drew his attention and Adonis looked up. He hurriedly closed the closet door and moved to leave the room, but halted in the next instant.

  Every single muscle in his body corded hard and tight with tension then fear, as ice solidified within the wall of his chest. He stood before the mirror in his room, the mirror that spanned the entire wall. His gaze clashed with a pair of reflected eyes. Violet eyes…familiar eyes…

  Eyes that he’d not stared into for over a year, and, before that, sixteen years.

  He heard the bullet explode from the gun just moments before he felt it whiz past his cheek and slam into the mirror, shattering the glass.

  Adonis twisted around at the same time he crouched low, expecting to find a gun pointed at him and a man he’d thought long dead holding it…

  There was nothing behind him but a single window, framed by draperies. The window had been left cracked open and Adonis stood to close it, staring out of it, but he found nothing. No trace of the man who’d just wielded a gun and shot at him.

  He looked at the hole in the centre of the mirror. Someone had taken a shot at him, someone had been in this room.

  Someone with eyes the identical colour of his father and who looked exactly like Dieu.

  Adonis gathered up the pouch he’d dropped when he’d ducked. He checked inside again to find all four rings still there. This time, as he left the room and rode the elevator down, he was careful…cautious. His eyes were wary as they darted around the lobby, searching for a man with violet eyes, searching for a ghost.

  He left La Maison d’Adonis behind him as he slid into his car and made the short drive to a shop he’d visited a few times before.

  He was still on edge when he entered the place, even more so when he left some fifteen minutes later. Adonis pulled out his cell phone and dialled Ares, but was not surprised when he got his brother’s voicemail. With Ares tracking his brothers and Serena, he would be careful to stay off his phone and off the grid in the event that he himself was being tracked.

  Adonis had little doubt that Ares was being watched, just as he was. He was certain his brothers Apollo and Eros were also being followed. The fear he’d managed to stifle ratcheted up a notch at the idea that Apollo and Eros were being tracked by an enemy they’d thought long dead—a ghost of a man.

  Adonis left a brief message for Ares, most of it cryptic, but his brother would have no trouble understanding. When he received the message, Ares had strict instructions to immediately give him a call.

  His brothers needed to know what they were facing, although Adonis was not certain himself. He glanced down at the velvet pouch glaring at him from the passenger seat, as if its very presence could harm him. He’d stopped to have the rings appraised—not for value, but for authenticity—and what he’d discovered had not been the news he’d desired, although deep down he’d expected it.

  Adonis had thought the rings were fakes…but he’d been wrong. He’d thought the rings were recent replicas—another incorrect assumption. The diamonds were from Sierra Leone, the platinum South Africa. Those mines had been shut down over twenty years ago. The rings were not fakes or replicas. Adonis had asked the appraiser if it was possible the rings could have been made recently from material stored somewhere safe for all these decades. Unlikely, he’d been told.

  Something forged out of preserved material would sparkle brilliantly and reflect the light in such a way that indicated it was newly made. Despite their pristine condition, the rings wore the signs of age.

  Adonis pressed down on the accelerator and gunned the engine, picking up speed as he travelled back to his father’s home. With the recent events over the past days, he’d not thought to check Dieu’s safe, but that would be the first thing he did when he returned. It would not change anything whether he found his father’s ring tucked inside that safe or if he found it gone. He simply wished to know if it was there. Maybe it would provide a clue, maybe it wouldn’t.

  Either way, it did not matter. Someone had shot at him, presumably to end his life. Someone wanted him dead, and he knew neither why nor to what end. The only thing he did know was that he’d stared into the eyes of a ghost who’d come back to haunt him and his brothers because of the secret they shared. The secret that bound them, that ensured the bond between them was stronger than birth, stronger than blood.

  * * * *

  After Adonis left, Selena showered and dressed and then went in search of Cassius, but she didn’t have to look for long. As soon as she opened the door to the sitting room, she found him.

  He stood just outside the door, guarding it like a bouncer would guard the entrance to a popular nightclub. His face was fearsome, his expression was intense. The beauty she’d glimpsed that night in another hallway not too long ago was still there, only harsher…harder.

  “I am sorry about having to disarm you the other night,” she said, acknowledging that his dark expression had to do with who she was and what she’d done.

  He nodded, but said nothing else.

  “You must understand, I had no other choice. I needed to get to Adonis, and I knew you would not simply let me past.”

  Again he silently nodded.

  “I was hoping you would escort me on a tour of the estate.” When he moved to nod again, her temper flared.

  “Won’t you say something? I cannot believe you’re still upset about that night.”

  He frowned. “You’ve already apologised for that.”

  “Then why do you insist on remaining silent?”

  His gaze darted about, as if searching for something that was not there.

  “What is it?” she demanded when he still hesitated.

  “My boss suggested that I not speak with you.”

  “Adonis?” Her eyes rounded when he nodded. “Why?”

  “He said you are manipulative and that to speak with you will endear me to you until I come to trust you, but that I should not trust you.”

  Adonis’ warning— not to go where she did not belong.

  She frowned. Of course he would warn Cassius not to fall prey to her, not to be manipulated into letting her see something she was not supposed to see or letting her talk him into taking her somewhere for just a minute…

  Her frown gave way to a smile. Adonis knew her inner workings far too well. Everything Adonis had told Cassius was true.

  Now that she knew Cassius’ position, she was forced to change her own. She would not be able to charm him as she’d hoped, which meant she would have to ditch him.

  “Adonis is overly concerned,” she said finally.

  “I have never known him to be wrong.”

  She bit her lip to keep the scowl from her face. “Very well then, shall we go take a look around now?”

  He nodded but, before he left his post, he locked the door to Adonis’ chambers. They walked down the hallway and actually made it to the next floor before she was tempted to speak.

  “How long have you been in Adonis’ employ?”

  Her question was met with silence, which elicited a sigh from
her. “Look, I have no desire to return to an empty room so I plan to be on this tour for quite a while. If you choose to remain silent, this entire experience will be that much more painful for the both of us.” She looked at him. “Or you can choose to be reasonable instead, and use your judgement when speaking with me, so this does not become unbearable.”

  He was quiet for so long that she decided Adonis had hired nothing but machines as guards, who followed every order to the letter. She would have found it impressive, except that she’d simply gone from a silent and empty room, to a silent and empty home with a big, burly mannequin—who wanted to play mute—as her companion.

  When he spoke, the abrupt end to the silence was so startling that she nearly tripped over her feet.

  “I have worked for Adonis for five years now.”

  “And do you enjoy what you do?”

  He glanced at her. “I do. His expectations are high, and he demands this of all who work for him and at all times. But he demands the same from himself, and everyone who works for him would say he is a fair man.”

  There was little doubt in her mind that every word Cassius spoke was true. Adonis was a man who expected near perfection, if not perfection entirely, because that was what he expected of himself. Dieu had drilled that into each of his sons. She knew that much from their courtship years ago. Yet, she also knew Adonis to be fair, just, and compassionate in how he treated people.

  “How did you come to know Adonis?”

  This was what she desired more than anything—to get a glimpse of the man from one who was close to him. To see Adonis as others saw him.

  “We met as boys, working for his father. When I left Dieu’s employ, I sought Adonis out. Many of those who guard him used to work with him. We trust him with our lives. ”

  “As he must trust you with his.”

  She listened to what the man beside her did not say—yet conveyed with his gestures and the emotion in his voice. Cassius spoke of Adonis with admiration, with unswerving loyalty. To inspire such devotion, for men to be willing to die for him, said more to her than words ever could and told her what she already knew—Adonis was a man of honour and of principle. She knew this as surely as she knew she breathed.

  Dieu had raised him to pretend as if he was perfect, but to always remember that he was flawed. Adonis did not see himself as a man worthy of loyalty…or as a man worthy of love. Whatever he’d been when Dieu had plucked him from the grimy streets, and whatever he’d become after, had convinced Adonis he was still that same boy—a boy who’d grown into a man believing himself still undeserving of love.

  They turned a corner and Selena looked up at Cassius to ask, “Where are we going?”

  He stopped all of a sudden. “You did not specify a place so I was simply wandering the halls.”

  She took a moment to consider where she wanted to go. “Will you show me the bordello below?”

  Cassius stiffened, his eyes flashing grey and hard as stone. She already knew without asking, but did anyway. “You worked there as well?”

  He nodded. “I did.”

  And his memories remained as unpleasant as Adonis’. She longed to see the rooms again, but Cassius was already uneasy in her presence. She did not wish to make her companion any more uncomfortable than was necessary.

  “What of Dieu’s chambers then, instead of the bedrooms below?”

  “The master’s wing is off limits,” Cassius replied with a stiff shake of his head.

  She’d expected as much, but pressed anyway. “Well, can I at least visit that floor and walk the hallways?”

  “I’m afraid not. The doors leading to his wing are locked. Even I do not have that key. Only his sons.”

  Disappointment filled her. She’d not expected that Adonis would let her wander through Dieu’s apartments, but she’d never expected that the entire wing would be locked.

  “Where do you suggest I go then?” she questioned Cassius.

  “Back to your chambers?”

  She was not amused by his attempt at a joke and her swift glare erased the hint of a smile from his lips.

  “What of Rosalina— Dieu’s deceased wife? Are her chambers off limits as well?”

  “Her private chambers are, but not her study.”

  Selena smiled at that. Rosalina’s study, any study, was bound to have a book or two. If she learned nothing of value in her tour of the woman’s study, at least she could entertain herself later with something to read.

  “Excellent. I would love to visit Rosalina’s study.”

  And so that was where Cassius took her, up three flights of stairs and through the winding maze of the vast estate, until she found herself in a wing on the opposite side of the home.

  With Cassius by her side, she walked down a long corridor, her footsteps muffled by her slippers. Soft, warm light flickered from the wall sconces, illuminating their path, but, even with the spill of light, the hallway remained dark and oppressive as shadows stretched out from every corner. This hallway, the absence of light and rich colour, was so unlike the one leading into Rosalina’s private quarters that Selena knew the woman must have either shared the study with her husband or it had once been Dieu’s before they’d married.

  They passed two doors as they walked down the corridor, and Selena learned those were the other entrances to the study. She did not understand why a simple study needed three entrances, until Cassius stopped at the third and final door and unlocked it.

  She realised instantly why the study had more than one entrance, because it was not a study at all. The room took up one side of an entire floor. To call it a study was a gross insult to the room she now stood inside. It was a library—a vast one, full of books. The only objects inside the room that lent themselves to a study were the Queen Anne chair and large cherry oak desk in the centre.

  Cassius flipped a switch, plunging the entire space into a sea of light. Before she’d been confined to the convent and the reading of purely religious texts, Selena had been an avid reader of many genres and authors. She walked along the shelves in awe. At first she was struck by the classic works of Hobbes and Locke, the Brontë sisters and the eclectic writing of Whitman—all of which appeared to be first editions. She delicately trailed her fingers across the leather bindings, afraid to do even that.

  She was so engrossed in studying the collection before her that she momentarily forgot herself, forgot Cassius, but mainly she forgot that she had not set out to tour the house because she was simply bored and eager to explore. Selena had left her room for a purpose.

  For over a year, she’d plotted Woodward’s death. She’d had Jarrod study his habits, his routine, until he’d disappeared. Her father’s trail had grown cold after that, except for one seemingly minute clue that had led her here, to this house.

  It had taken Jarrod some time and had cost them both a great deal of money to obtain the original floor plan to this estate, but, upon doing so, Selena had studied it, almost daily, until she knew every secret passage, every hidden entryway.

  The floor plan she’d studied had not done justice to this room, however, and certainly not to the collection contained within, but she was certain the information was accurate. Selena knew every idiosyncrasy this estate possessed, probably better than Adonis himself.

  She glanced over at Cassius, who was now perusing a row of books. He’d watched her like a hawk at first but had gradually begun to relax. She took advantage of his inattention and inched her way into the far north-eastern corner of the room. If Cassius were to look up, he would think she was simply engaged in the titles at the end of the shelves. Selena’s expression was far too intense, however, to say she was simply studying a row of books.

  There was a small gap between the wall and the bookshelf, just big enough for her hand, a woman’s hand. She slid it into the space and felt around until her fingers brushed a tiny knob of cool metal. She gave Cassius one last glance to be sure he was still looking in the other direction.

  He
was.

  She tugged on the handle, gently at first, but when it did not budge she pulled harder, then harder still. She was about to give up until she pulled at the same time she twisted her hand to the right.

  There was a soft click as the bookshelf pushed away from the wall. Whether he heard the noise or glimpsed the flash of movement, Cassius looked up abruptly, but he was too late.

  He called her name, but she had already slipped into the small crack and was pulling the bookshelf closed with a firm, hard slam.

  Cassius’ voice was muffled in the chamber, but, from all the banging he was doing, she was certain he was cursing her violently. She did not wait to find out. If Cassius searched long enough he would discover the knob. She did not have much time.

  Selena walked quickly, her heart thumping erratically in her chest as she navigated the tunnel that wove its way through the entire estate. The darkness was heavy, stifling. Without a flashlight or candle, she was virtually blind. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the dearth of light, but, even after they did, she was forced to make her way through the corridor slowly, with one hand on the brick wall as a guide.

  She remembered enough from the floor plan to know where she was going—she simply could not see her way. The noise of something creeping across the floor made her heart pound harder. She imagined it was probably a rat—the passageway presumably had not been used in over a year. Selena decided it would not be wise to chance it. She knew what lurked in these tunnels, in the empty corridors of the haunted estate, so she pulled the gun from between her breasts—the tiny revolver she’d kept hidden, even after Ares had searched her, just before he’d locked her to the bed. After the brothers had left her tethered there, she’d quickly removed the gun and hidden it inside Adonis’ bedside table, where it had remained until he’d gone.

  Ares should have let Adonis do it…search her, that was. He would not have been afraid to look under her shirt and between the valley of her breasts, but Adonis had not even wanted to look at her, let alone touch her.