Ruin (The Rhodes Book 1) Read online

  Ruin

  The Rhodes Book One

  Rina Kent

  © Copyright Rina Kent 2019

  Black Rose Writing | Texas

  © 2019 by Rina Kent

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.

  The final approval for this literary material is granted by the author.

  First digital version

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-68433-218-2

  PUBLISHED BY BLACK ROSE WRITING

  www.blackrosewriting.com

  Print edition produced in the United States of America

  Thank you so much for checking out one of our Romance novels.

  If you enjoy this book, please check out our recommended title for your next great read!

  Fateful Decisions by Trevor D’Silva

  “...Places you right in the action from page one.”-Luke Edison, author of Valcarion: Sacrifices

  To everyone who finds solace in the darkness.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Recommended Reading

  Dedication

  Chapter One - Aaron

  Chapter Two - Mae

  Chapter Three - Aaron

  Chapter Four - Mae

  Chapter Five - Aaron

  Chapter Six - Mae

  Chapter Seven - Aaron

  Chapter Eight - Mae

  Chapter Nine - Aaron

  Chapter Ten - Mae

  Chapter Eleven - Aaron

  Chapter Twelve - Mae

  Chapter Thirteen - Aaron

  Chapter Fourteen - Mae

  Chapter Fifteen - Aaron

  Chapter Sixteen - Mae

  Chapter Seventeen - Aaron

  Chapter Eighteen - Mae

  Chapter Nineteen - Aaron

  Chapter Twenty - Mae

  Chapter Twenty-One - Tristan

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Mae

  Chapter Twenty-Three - Aaron

  Chapter Twenty-Four - Mae

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Aaron

  Chapter Twenty-Six - Mae

  Chapter Twenty-Seven - Aaron

  Chapter Twenty-Eight - Mae

  Chapter Twenty-Nine - Mae

  Chapter Thirty - Aaron

  Chapter Thirty One - Mae

  About the Author

  Afterwards

  Acknowledgements

  BRW Info

  Chapter One

  Aaron

  They lurk everywhere. Monsters. Demons. Voices.

  ‘Set your own killing list, Aaron,’ Aunt’s freezing voice rebounds in the corners of my head.

  Father hums. ‘That would be more fun.’

  This isn’t the time for such discussions, demons.

  I approach the heaving mess of flesh and bones. The cold blade in my hand absorbs heat from my gloved fingers, fuelling my resolve.

  Vibrant blood soaks Jake Hampton’s suit and drips onto the room’s tiled floor. Tiny drops extend into unusual forms underneath him. They grow larger and larger. Every atom in my body stands in keen attention. What is it about the mix of erythrocytes, leukocytes, thromboses and plasma that excited me? Why can’t I be like those textbook cold-blooded killers? Why do I always need to stop and stare whenever the crimson liquid is in sight?

  Jake stumbles to his feet, eyelids swollen. Blood gushes from his cut arm, soaking the white tiles. He opens dry lips to speak, but has to swallow a few times before a coherent sentence comes out.

  “You think you’re invincible, you sick fuck?” He spits a mixture of saliva and blood at my feet. “Your father had the same thought, and we all remember where that led. Someday, you’ll screw up too and end up just like him.”

  “You disappoint me, Jake. I thought you’d put more of a fight. I am done playing.” I flick my wrist and throw the knife straight into his femoral artery. Jake drops to the ground with a thud, a cracking sound of bone breaking echoes in the dungeons.

  “Give me the information I need or your family will join you.” I hover over him, twirl the knife inside his wound, then snatch it with a jerk.

  A fountain of blood splashes from his thigh, marring my plastic coat. An overwhelming euphoria courses through me at the warmth of it.

  Jake’s lacerated hands tremble as they attempt to apply pressure to the wound. I laugh. It’s no use. Blood pours out, forming a pool around his body as if his heart insists on kicking the life out of him. His frantic gaze searches mine in a silent plea for help. Too bad. I’m the wrong person to ask.

  I tilt my head. “Better tell me before you bleed out.”

  “A-all right...” He cracks and tells me everything. They always do. The name he gives is no surprise. My family has always been surrounded by traitors.

  All I’m left with were Jake’s vacant eyes and a need for more blood.

  Why do they have to die so soon?

  My nostrils prickle at the distinctive metallic scent. I inhale it, deep and slow as I removed my plastic gloves, coat, and slippers.

  Kane, my assistant and chief of my guards, comes inside with the rest of the team. They line near the door in perfect military style. Their black suits stand out against the white walls and the blinding fluorescent light of the room.

  Jake’s corpse looks even more beautiful.

  Kane steps forward, his pale blue eyes as unfeeling as Jake’s dead one. “Mr Hampton’s son passed the gate and is waiting upstairs.”

  I nod. “Clean it up.”

  Father’s yawn invades my mind, his voice a shred of the woods. ‘That was boring, Aaron.’

  ‘We expected more blood,’ says Aunt, her tone like a scentless anemone.

  It’s mostly Father and Aunt banging inside my head. Mother’s lavender-scented voice is rather rare.

  The walk through the dark corridors soothes me. The old grey walls murmur a compelling tune— or perhaps they only mirror the voices in my head; a long humming of thunderous nights. Aunt’s favourite song.

  I climb the stairs to the estate’s Northern Wing when my phone vibrates.

  A text from my cousin.

  Tristan— Don’t reject Hampton’s contract renewal before I get back to you.

  The bastard did it again.

  Me— I don’t take orders.

  Tristan— Do me a favour and don’t reject Hampton’s contract renewal before I get back to you.

  That’s more like it.

  Me— He has been waiting for some time.

  The reply is almost immediate.

  Tristan— Try to delay him as long as possible. Converse. Do your thing. There has been a change in the market and I
need to make sure of the circumstances.

  I thrust the phone in my pocket and stand in front of the main hall’s mirror, scrutinising my grey suit for bloodstains.

  My gaze flicks to tall portraits of my ancestors, decorating the walls of the Grand Hall. Only one person has my attention: Uncle Alexander.

  Despite the dark features he passed down to Tristan, Uncle’s always been the light in this estate.

  Since he’s gone with the rest of our family, this place – as well as my existence – has been a cemetery.

  For that reason, I agreed to help Tristan. While I deserve the darkness, Uncle’s soul never did.

  I straighten my tie and push the double doors to the conference room.

  Hampton Junior appears like a dwarf in the midst of the gigantic space. His gaze roams around the room: inspecting the high ceiling crowded with chandeliers, the table fit for fifty people, and the luxurious furniture in every corner.

  “Mr Hampton.” I offer my hand and smile. “I apologise for making you wait.”

  “It’s all right.” He stands up, smiles, and shakes my hand longer than I like. “I’m thankful you agreed to meet me on such short notice, Your Lordship.”

  “Absolutely, and please, Aaron is just fine. There is no need for titles in business setting.” I motion to the sofa near the fireplace. “Please take a seat.”

  “Allow me to compliment the architectural style of the Rhodes estate, Your Lordship,” he says, his nose pinching up. It’s round and flat, comparable to a pig’s rather than a human’s. “It’s beyond anything I’ve seen.”

  “You make my ancestors proud.” The estate was built for one aim and one aim only: intimidation.

  Hampton clears his throat, his lips twitching. “I gather you know I’m here for the contract renewal. My family would love to continue as the exclusive shipping company of the electronics’ branch of your conglomerate.”

  “Here’s the situation.” My voice deepens. “I, for my part, would renew for your long-term loyalty to my family and our noble community connections.”— I would not. Emptying him of his blood like I did his father is a more tantalising idea— “However, Tristan and Dylan treat the affairs as profit only. Unless you convince me that your company can offer us what others can’t, I am afraid we will have no future exchanges.”

  I feign interest at his mumbles of better offers, newer equipment, and what-the-fuck-ever that almost bleeds my ears. The hopelessness of his situation shows through his unbalanced voice and the constant wiping of sweat on his forehead. The Hamptons are dangling by a fine thread. Tristan has driven them to the edge where only we could catch them— or let them crush to pieces.

  My phone vibrates. Offering another fake smile, I check the text.

  Tristan— Renew the contract.

  That’s it. I’ll turn Hampton down just to piss Tristan off.

  My phone vibrates again.

  Tristan— Do me a favour and renew the contract.

  Tristan— Bastard.

  Tucking my phone back in my pocket, I smile at Hampton who’s been watching me with desperate anxious eyes. What type of noble is he if he can’t conceal his emotions? Such a failure. At least his father was interesting at the beginning.

  “You convinced me, Mr Hampton. We shall renew after our lawyers review the contract.”

  His face brightens with a grin as he shakes my hand. “My father will be thrilled. I can’t wait to tell him the news.”

  I smile, genuinely this time. “I’m curious to see how that works out.”

  . . . . .

  Tiny flakes of snow cling to the side of my neck, face, and all fibres of clothing as I walk down a dark, filthy street. I chose the city’s most abandoned alleys on purpose. This time of the year suits me the best. Long cold nights, fewer people roam the back alleys, and more idiots screw up.

  Changing the suit with my hood liberates me. Blood isn’t my aim tonight – not that I’m allowed to kill after a recent target. However, I still hope to spot someone messing up so I can play their Grim Reaper.

  A muffled scream shatters the calmness. I stop in my tracks.

  Thank you, gates of hell, for answering my prayers.

  I sprint through the shadows, edging nearer to the source of the scream. The closer I’m, the louder the moans and grunts. My hand itches for the knife in my waistband. My thoughts cloud with options to extract life.

  I halt by an abandoned building. A few metres away, a bulky short male is forcing a brunette onto the ground, head first, and manoeuvres himself over her arse. His gaze dips to her naked behind. One hand covers her mouth, the other fumbles with his belt.

  The woman’s muted cry slips between his fingers. When he thrusts into her, I grin. That, an idiot screwing up, is what’s been missing from my day. I can’t deny myself the pleasure when the opportunity arises.

  The brunette has to be knocked out. Her meddling and crying would hinder me.

  Subduing him would be...well, boring. While this may not appear like an alluring kill, it’s still blood to spill.

  My hand curls around the knife as I glance around, looking for witnesses. The alley is as clear as the desert.

  I stalk towards them. Neither of them notices me.

  When I lift my hand to strike, the woman bites the man’s hand. “I told you to wait until we got home!” Her finger guides his to her front. “Oh, yes! Yes! Right there, Mark.”

  Dammit.

  He wasn’t raping her. Or at least, not in the way that gives me a reason to finish his life.

  I pivot on my heels and retreat to the shadows.

  My fingers press tighter against the knife. I can lie to my cousin and claim I acted upon a misunderstanding. Anyone would’ve mistaken it as rape. Only I had far too many misunderstandings in the past for Tristan to let this pass unnoticed.

  Which leaves me with the alternative of hiding this. Finish the couple and clean the scene solo. No report. No explanations.

  The downside is that cleaning irks me. So much work and little to no thrill. That’s why I have Kane and his team for such tasks.

  These two aren’t worth inducing Tristan’s wrath.

  I back away, put the knife back in its sheath, and take the opposite direction.

  ‘No, go back there! Kill them both.’

  The volume of the maddening voices echo louder in my head, demanding the blood they were promised.

  Fuck you, gates of hell, for screwing me further into the abyss of chaos.

  A small dog with pink ribbons around its neck rushes towards me. I stop at an intersection of two tight, uninhabited alleyways. The little thing erupts in crazed barks.

  Could the animal sense my demons?

  Doesn’t matter. Killing a dog isn’t a priority.

  ‘Neither is cleaning and yet you ruined it.’ There was a tinge of rage in Father’s voice.

  Shut up.

  “Melanie!”

  The feminine voice reaches me before its owner collides into my chest. I hold my position as a girl, wearing a long coat the same colour as the dog’s ribbons, stumbles and falls on her arse.

  “Ouch!”

  With the grace of an athlete, she rises to her feet. “What were you—” The girl cuts off when she meets my stare.

  Under the dim street lights, her skin appears too pale to be real. Or is it because of the light? With a round petite face, an odd shade of grey-blonde hair, held in a long ponytail, and wide blue eyes, she can pass for a porcelain doll.

  A loud beauty. The kind you’d spot right away amongst a crowd. It’s like the r
edness of blood against white surfaces.

  The unrelenting gaze of her intense, blue eyes is like a bottomless ocean. Diving, drowning, I stare back— fascination gripping me by the gut.

  From her stiffening posture, I can tell she doesn’t like me. Yet, her gaze sparkles with determination, as if she’s trying to figure me out.

  Foolish.

  If she only knew what resides in my head. I can spend days watching blood flow from her every pore, with those enthralling eyes staring at me.

  No. She’s way off the charts, and my one-way ticket to the asylum if I attempt to squeeze the life out of her compelling body.

  The girl lowers her head and takes a deep breath. “You bumped into me. You’re supposed to apologise.”

  Her wide eyes and shaky whisper sends a jolt down my spine. Throbbing veins under her translucent skin desperately call for my knife.

  ‘Her blood will be a great addition to our collection,’ Aunt hums. ‘We can use more female targets.’

  ‘Stop.’ Mother makes her first appearance in three days, her voice detached but soft. ‘She’s an innocent girl.’

  “You better disappear from my sight,” I say, tone steady and low.

  The girl’s mouth opens, as if to speak, then quickly closes. Her fingers are unsteady as she hunches down to scoop the dog off the ground. With a sharp breath, she backs away, never taking her attention off me.

  She shouldn’t do that.

  Showing fear entices me. Morbidly so. It gives my monsters reasons to stir and plan an ugly end.

  Still walking backwards, the girl picks up her pace, turns, and dashes in the opposite direction.

  ‘Follow her.’

  ‘You already denied us a kill.’

  ‘Can you afford to disobey us twice in one night?’

  ‘Madness will be waiting.’

  Father and Aunt speak at the same time, their voices intertwining, rising, rambling. I hate it when they do that. If I don’t give them what they want, I’ll be denied of sleep tonight.

 
-->