Ruin (Rhodes #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,37

just figured that out?’ Mother asks in a sad voice.

My phone buzzes. The estate’s front security’s number. I answer. “It’s still early for the meeting, Kane.”

“It’s me, Sir.”

Xan. Tristan’s version of Kane. Bloody hell. My cousin is back.

I jump from the sofa, and turn off the office’s monitor. “Where’s Tristan?”

“He’s at the dungeons, Sir.” Xan’s monotone voice resonates in my ear like a hammer.

Fuck!

My freedom will be snatched without mercy if Tristan finds out about Mae. “Which dungeons?”

“The Northern Wing’s, Sir.”

I release a long breath. “Where’s Kane?” I’ll kill the bastard. His job is to alert me when Tristan returns.

“He went to the company, Sir.”

Huh.

Without telling me first?

“You’re asked at the main dungeons, Sir.”

“What for?”

“I’m not allowed to say, Sir.”

When I hang up, I notice a text message received an hour before Xan’s call.

Kane— Tristan’s back.

Hell. I can’t believe I was too preoccupied with watching Mae to notice Kane’s warning.

Acting out of character. Again.

I toss the phone away, put on my boots, add a few extra knives to my usual stash, and storm out of my wing.

The echo of my steps in the empty surroundings does nothing to silence my thoughts.

If I get Mae out of the dungeons, I may as well fall for one of Tristan’s schemes. My next move needs to wait until I assess the situation.

Xan salutes me in military style in front of the Northern Wing’s entrance. The male bun at the back of his head is the only break in his stoic image. Ever since his last tour in Afghanistan, he’s become even more robotic.

No family. No weaknesses whatsoever. Kane is more fun than him.

Xan reaches to his sheath and pulls three hunting knives. “You will need these, Sir.”

It’s never wrong to accept more weapons. I take them with a nod. This eliminates the option that Tristan suspects anything.

It’s useless to ask. If Tristan instructed him to keep his mouth shut, he won’t open it to death itself.

I descend the long stairs leading to the mansion’s main secured dungeons, hand pressing against a knife’s handle.

What’s Tristan up to? Is this about the traitor?

My fingers work the security code. The door clicks open. Dylan and Tristan stand at the entrance, wearing black suits meant for business.

Dylan arches an eyebrow while Tristan waves me in with a grin.

It’s rarely fun when those two are enjoying themselves.

“Morning, little brother.” Tristan says in a cheerful tonne. “Have you slept well?”

“I’m not your brother. Stop calling me that.”

His smile turns into a slight smirk. “My father adopted you which makes you my brother whether you like it or not.”

“What a heartfelt family reunion.” Dylan chimes in with a bright tone, in complete contrast with his bored expression. “Now, can we focus on business?”

“Yes, Tristan. Business.” My left eye twitches. “Why didn’t you inform me of your return?”

“I wanted to surprise you.” He offers his rare devilish smile. “Come and see the souvenir I brought with me.”

I approach their side. It’s either something extremely terrific or an absolute horror if Tristan smiles like that.

Thankfully, this time it’s the first.

The fumed glass reveals a bulky man strapped to a metallic chair in the interrogation room. Unconscious, his head lolls down to his chest. Although a few blond strands fall to his chest, I can’t mistake that face.

Crow.

A member of Team Zero and our former instructor in The Pit.

“Where did you find him?” I ask.

“He found me.” Tristan’s voice is amused. “He’s the one Hades sent for my head.”

I laugh, my fingers twitching to grab the knife in my waistband.

This will be interesting.

Although it’s still odd that the mighty Crow allowed himself to be caught. No matter how strong Tristan’s chain of Intel is.

My cousin reaches for one of the plastic coats in the locker. “I’ll go first.”

I block his way. “I thought this was my surprise. Why do you have to unwrap it with me?”

“It’s our revenge, too, Aaron.” Tristan slips on the gloves and cracks the muscles in his neck. “We also get to play with the bastards who played with us.”

Damn. Why do I co-habit with killers?

Dylan unbuttons his jacket and sits on one of three metallic chairs, crossing his legs on the ankles. “The two of