Ruin (The Rhodes Book 1)

by Rina Kent

  This survival game will one day give me a heart attack.

  A strange rustle comes from the other side of the door. Quiet and loud at the same time.

  Don’t look, Mae. You’re falling for the horror film cliche.

  Now I understand why they look. Curiosity is a vile, stupid thing.

  With the tip of my fingers, I crack the door open, enough to have a good view of the room.

  Aaron’s pet is where I left him. Only now he’s sitting, his tail whipping left and right as if in anticipation.

  The door clicks open and Aaron strolls inside, searching the room. I open my mouth to scold him about leaving his animal behind, when another man brushes past him, barging inside.

  The newcomer looks straight out of a men’s perfume commercial. Tall. Well-built. In a tailored suit. My vision is restricted to his left side, but it’s enough to show his masculine beauty and the power he exudes with each step. His body size and some of his features are similar to Aaron’s. They share the same merciless black eyes.

  Are they brothers?

  The identical signet ring to Aaron’s on the stranger’s index confirms my theory.

  King jumps the newcomer, its paws at his shoulder level. The man staggers backwards but doesn’t fall. His arms encircle the jaguar. “Long time no see, King.”

  The same voice as the man earlier. Oh, hell. If he sees me...

  My eyes flicker to Aaron and his stern features greet me. I push the door to close it but Aaron shakes his head. The gesture so small, I wouldn’t have noticed it if I wasn’t ogling him.

  I step away from the door, leaving a small crack to look through it. Why am I acting like a goddamn thief?

  He will kill you, Mae. That’s why.

  “There, you saw King.” Aaron’s nonchalant voice betrays nothing of his urgency earlier. “Let’s take him back.”

  “You’re not dodging the problem.” The stranger narrows his eyes, his enunciation of words is even more posh than Aaron. “Do you have any idea of the trouble you caused this afternoon?”

  “Let’s talk outside.” Aaron’s words are clipped.

  Holy... this man must be something if he can talk to Aaron that way and get away with it. Perhaps his older brother? If they’re both nobles, then this stranger must be the head of the household.

  If Aron is a lord or an earl, then this could be...

  Holy. Hell.

  A duke? I’ve never followed aristocracy closely, but a duke is big. Like huge. Like right after the royal family huge.

  Though he could be only a lord.

  “Wait...” The stranger sniffs the air like some sort of a hunting dog. “The room smells strange. Since when do you use citrus perfume?”

  I swallow, heat rising to my cheeks. I hide behind the door and cover my mouth with both hands. Please no.

  “None of your business.” Aaron shoves his hands in his pocket. “Out.”

  A long tortured sigh leaves my system when the room quiets. Did they leave? I peek through the little opening of the door when a white-clothed broad chest blocks my vision. I look up to be captured by Aaron’s softening black wells. The sight is so rare that I stare at them in complete awe.

  He reaches for my head. His warm palm caresses the top of my hair, causing an ache similar to excitement to form at the bottom of my stomach.

  I open my mouth to blurt something, but his index finger presses on my lips. Words die at my throat. The ache in my stomach intensifies to match the thundering of my heart.

  He smiles, a genuine heart-stopping smile that stretches to his eyes. It erupts the intense sensation in my stomach into wild frenzied butterflies.

  “You did well, kitten,” he says in a low voice before leaving.

  When the lock clicks in place, my wobbly knees give up the burden of holding me, and I fall to the tiled floor.

  What the hell just happened?

  . . . . .

  In the following days, there has been no trace of Aaron. Which adds a further confusion to what on earth happened that afternoon.

  For five days, only Kane has been showing up with my meals. He doesn’t talk too much, but he listens to me blabbering without any sign of discomfort.

  So different from His Lordship.

  Refusing to succumb to any thoughts about Aaron, I spend my time sketching. I found a little notebook in the drawer and a collection of charcoal crayons. Something tells me it’s not a coincidence.

  At first, I refused to draw anything, but since I had nothing to do, it’s been better to put my time to use.

  I take a look at the figures I put on the paper: phantoms, mutilated Greek mythology Gods, and an outline of a man. Ugh. What’s wrong with me? I can’t even draw that beautiful tree visible from my room’s window. In a split second I find myself wanting to put features on the man’s outline.

  When on earth do I draw people?

  With a groan, I slam the sketchbook shut and wander to the window. This derangement of my art is making me antsy and pushing me to an unknown edge. Why can’t I even control my muse?

  Might as well have a bath or something to drive this uneasiness away.

  The clothes Kane provided me end in a heap on the carpet as I dive into them. I never managed to find anything in a neat pile before and I won’t start now.

  After choosing a dress, I try to shove the chaotic pile back in. I kick them in the cupboard and something snaps.

  Oh, no. Did I break something?

  After pulling the clothes aside, I study the wooden drawer at the bottom of the cupboard. It’s not that it broke, but another drawer emerged. A secret passageway?

  My insides light up as I bury my fingers inside the small entrance. I snooped in this room as much as I could, but nothing stood out. Perhaps I’m having better luck this time.

  Something solid meets my hand, and I pull it out.

  A dusty, brown-leathered book.

  I blow on the cover. A cloud of dust constricts my breathing, and I cough.

  A journal? Curiosity compels me to open the first page. The blank paper is yellowish, but it isn’t dusty like on the outside. At the bottom, there’s a neat written name: Eva.

  Could this be one of Aaron’s relatives? Although guilt overwhelms me at reading someone’s journal, curiosity is stronger.

  I put my hands together. “I’m sorry, Ms Eva. I need to read this to know what type of a monster I’m stuck with.”

  Determination flowing inside me, I turn the second page. The date on the top is about when I was two years old.

  The suffocation I endure in this place is draining me. I need to ease this load off my chest even if it’s to paper.

  I think I’m losing my son, my only breather in the estate ever since I gave birth to him eight years ago. Ariel was never able to take him from me. No matter how much she tried, none of her schemes worked to turn Aaron into the abhorrent desolate soul she and Arthur shared. My baby always came back to me. Until today. He didn’t even look at me. Ariel killed herself in front of him to prove that I can’t win against them.

  I lost. They’ve taken my Aaron. My light. My life.

  I stare blankly for a moment. Eva must be Aaron’s mother. But who are Arthur and Ariel? Why would the latter kill herself in front of a child? It seems like Aaron’s family is crazier than he is.

  When I turn the following page, the door clicks open. I hide the journal in the heap of clothes, shove them inside and close the cupboard.

  Kane walks inside with a bunch of towels I requested. I’m compelled to ask him about details, but he’d
confiscate the journal and hand it to Aaron. I’d lose my only way to find out more.

  Kane places the towels on the bed, eyeing the mess of clothes peeking from the wardrobe. “Is there anything else you need, Miss?”

  Something tells me he dislikes the mess. But oh well, my space, my rules.

  I hate it when everything is neat and tidy. AKA boring.

  “I told you to call me Mae.” I hesitate, but the question that’s plagued my mind pries my lips open. “Where is he, Kane?

  He stands at the entrance, obviously wanting to leave. “His Lordship is quite busy this period.”

  I snort. He’s been telling me that every time I ask. Whatever. It’s not like Kane ever provided answers.

  “If there isn’t anything else.” He nods before leaving.

  I retrieve the towels and run a bath. Once the bathroom becomes foggy, I strip and sink into the spacious bathtub fit for three people.

  I sigh at the cool citrus scent coming out of the foam. It’s such a coincidence to find my favourite citrus products here. Or maybe my mind refuses to admit that it’s far from a coincidence.

  I close my eyes and relax further into the warmth of the tub until bubbly water covers me to the chin.

  Baths are the best things that’s happened to me since I came here.

  Beside Kane. He reminds of Grandpa. He’s kind and his mere presence prevents my loneliness.

  The complete opposite of Aaron.

  Why would he take a captive if he planned to stop visiting? Ever since the first time I met him, I always had his attention— one twisted way or the other. Now, he just vanished. There’s no sign of him.

  “Why am I even thinking about him?” I whisper to the empty beige-tiled bathroom. “He can go to hell for all I care.”

  It must be because of what his mother wrote about him. Or maybe it’s because of the enchanting smile he flashed me before he disappeared. The mere memory of it sends unconscious butterflies into a frenzy.

  Aaron is a monster. I’m fully aware of that. He kidnapped me, there’s nothing that could conceal that. And yet, there’s this abhorrent need for his company. A sick lethal attractiveness towards him builds inside me like the darkness I paint subconsciously.

  He’s The Devil, but like any devil, it’s impossible to resist him.

  Great. I’m more messed up than I thought.

  I pull strands of my hair in a harsh grip. The pain at the roots of my skull does nothing to change the direction of my thoughts.

  Snap out of it, Mae.

  I spill water on my shoulders then rub them gently. I close my eyes at the soothing sensation. An image of Mum massaging my shoulders jumps into my closed lids. An unwilling tear rolls down my cheeks at the memory of my family and friends. They seem so distant now. So out of reach. Thinking of them always sucks me into a depressive black hole.

  Enough. I won’t get swallowed in that place again.

  Without opening my eyes, I reach to where I put the shower gel. My fingertips travel the length of the cold marbled surface before the bottle is placed in my palm.

  “Thank—”

  My lids open and the bottle falls into the water with a flop.

  Aaron.

  He came? Before my mind goes blank, the reality of my current nakedness slams at my brain.

  “G-get out!” I pull my knees to my chest and clumsily wrap my arms around them.

  “Is that how you greet me after this long absence, bird?” A smirk plays on his lips and he arches one of his eyebrows. “Besides, I had cameras on you in the dungeons. If I wanted to see you unclothed, I would’ve already.”

  Wait. What? My gaze roams sideways in search of the spying things.

  A low chuckle pulls me back to Aaron as if hypnotised. “Always the curious little kitten, aren’t you?” He leans over until his breath brushes against my flushed skin. “There is none in this room.”

  The beautiful bastard. I can’t ignore how attractive he is when he’s this close.

  I clear my throat and narrow my eyes. “Am I supposed to be grateful that you’re not a pervert?”

  His lips twitch in his signature almost-smile. “Who says I am not?” He tilts his head to the side, his heated gaze travels my length leisurely as if recording every inch to memory. Tingles erupt all over my skin and heat smothers my cheeks. To my horror, it’s not out of embarrassment or discomfort. My fingertips twitch to release my legs. Show him myself in full. And then... what? Seduce him?

  I shake my head at the horrifying thought.

  “Stop looking at me like that!” I don’t know if the shout is directed at him or at myself.

  His intense black pools travel back to my face and stay there. Unmoving. In complete freaking silence.

  This is unbearable. I want to drown in the water.

  Unable to hold eye contact for long, I tear my gaze from his and focus on his clothes.

  He’s wearing a neat elegant tuxedo, its black colour in perfect harmony with his trimmed hair. Power and elegance. He’s dressed to impress. Not that he’s not most days. Only this time, it seems more deliberate.

  “Where are you going?” Intolerable silence breaks to shreds at my hesitant question.

  “Do you care where I go?”

  I shouldn’t, but I do.

  You need a slap across the face, Mae.

  “Would you stop answering my questions with your own?”

  “Where is the fun in that?” He smirks, the gesture’s so mocking, I crave to ruin his sinful features with my nails.

  After several minutes of thick silence, he nods and strides out of the bathroom. It’s when I hear the outside door clicking shut that I release the breath I’ve been holding.

  I sink further into the now-cool water. A crazy thought forms in my mind.

  What if he’s going on a date? Does he have a girlfriend? A wife? He doesn’t seem the type to get involved in such things. But what do I know about him, anyway?

  Heck. Why do I even care? He can have them all if he leaves me alone.

  My stomach tugs. I stand with a jerk, water splashing all over the floor. This won’t affect me.

  I hop out of the bath and dry off.

  Once I’m back in the room, I throw on cotton undergarments and a sleeping robe.

  I lay on the bed and pull the journal out. At least I have something to do beside the boring circle of sleep, eat, bathe, and repeat.

  Oh, and sketching what I abhor.

  The second entry is two days after the first.

  Aaron lost his voice. He can’t – no – he doesn’t want to speak. The doctor said it’s entirely psychological. I know all too well who caused him the shock. I submitted to my tears and thrashed against Arthur for not protecting our son. He said it was all my fault for going against Ariel in a fight I could’ve never won.

  I was at fault for protecting my Aaron and now, I don’t know how to do it anymore.

  My heart aches for a little child losing his voice due to a psychological trauma. Aaron’s entourage seems to have everything to do with his depravity. So, Arthur is Aaron’s father. But why didn’t Eva talk about Aaron’s brother? Or is he from another woman?

  I turn the page when the door to my room opens. With a quick movement, I slip the journal under the pillow when sitting up. My mouth hangs open when the intruder turns out to be an unfamiliar face.

  A slim man in a shining tuxedo stands by the door. He’s similar to Van Gogh’s portrait of Eugène Boch, with the angular features and all— except for maybe his fat nose. The cruel look in his eyes impels
me to get out of the bed.

  Kane mentioned that none but himself was allowed in Aaron’s quarters.

  “Who are you?” I stand beside the console, eyes searching for a weapon.

  “Well, well, well. The fucker is keeping a prized toy.” He walks to me, his gruff voice and the sound of his steps booming all around me. “Let’s ruin you for him, shall we?”

  I’m not given time to process what he said when the man stands in front of me. All thoughts evaporate. I dash to the door. When I reach the centre of the room, I’m pulled back by the hair. Excruciating pain explodes in my scalp.

  Strong hands lift me from the waist. My feet leave the ground and I cringe at the roughness of his touch. I thrash in his hold, my legs kicking and my nails scratching his hands in urgency. He puts me to my feet, but doesn’t let go.

  “Help!” I scream, the sound strangled with the bile restricting my throat. “Help—oomph!”

  A gutting punch into my stomach causes air to knock out of my lungs. I fall limp in his hold. No oxygen comes into my system.

  A halo forms all around me and all I can hear is a long buzz in my ears.

  The next thing I realise is a soft material beneath my back. The carpet. I’m splayed on the ground, the man hovering above me.

  A cigar smell envelops me in a nauseating hold when he speaks a few inches away from my face. “The fucker picked a good toy.”

  His finger trails from my cheek to my collarbone, leaving burns in their wake. I clench the soft cloth underneath me. The disgusting sensation enough to shake me from my dizziness. I pull my knee and kick it into his groin with all my strength. He clutches the assaulted area, his face reddening. I use the chance to crawl from underneath him.

  The door is just a few metres away. A few –

  A hand pulls me back by the ankle. I kick with all my might. No use. Two hands encircle my legs in a tight, merciless hold.

  “H-help!” A restrained voice similar to my own calls. “Aa...aron! Ka...ne!”