Ruin (Rhodes #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,43

side, his frozen eyes sharp and glinting, made from sapphire. The sword in the knight’s hand has the same crest on Aaron’s ring.

My family is wealthy. I’m used to luxury, but this place is different. It’s old money. Judging from the refined taste, Aaron could either be from a prestigious mafia, or a long chain of aristocrats. His signet ring could be a noble family’s heirloom.

Does that mean he uses his power to get away with kidnapping people? And maybe killing them?

Don’t go there, Mae.

We ascend long marbled stairs, the dark red carpet embellishing them soft underneath my slippers. When we turn into a hallway, I get a brief glimpse of countless tall paintings decorating the walls. From the renaissance to the baroque, romanticism and impressionism eras. There are even East Asian paintings. Wait... is that Robins’ missing painting?

Does Aaron collect art? Or steal it?

We stop at double white doors with the same golden lines of the walls. Aaron gives me his back and my vision gets blocked from whatever he’s doing.

Why is no one here? This place must be kept by servants.

I search the place for a possible exit or a rescuer. Perhaps they don’t know their master is a psycho kidnapper and will help me escape.

“Don’t even think about it.”

My lips part. “How do you know what I’m thinking about?”

“You’re expressive to a fault, mouse,” he says over his shoulder before going back to his task.

Ugh. Whatever.

I tiptoe to peek over his shoulder, but the man is too damn tall. My upper body leans sideways to get a better view. His fingers type on an electronic screen before he presses enter.

Ah. A password.

“Always a curious little kitten, aren’t you?” He faces me, and I’m relieved that irritation has completely left his features. Only clear midnight eyes.

Wait. Are those...

As if compelled by an alternate force, my feet shift closer until my chest almost grazes his. Aaron doesn’t move; he merely raises an eyebrow as if wondering what I’ll do next.

Tiptoeing, I use both hands to clutch his face and bring it down to stare into his fascinating eyes. I didn’t notice them before due to the lack of light. You have to look quite close to spot them. Flecks of grey interrupt the darkness of his irises, spiralling them into an imperfectly perfect harmony.

Holy. Damn.

Why is his imperfection even more beautiful than his perfection?

“What are you doing?”

Warm breaths tickle my skin. I’m holding his face in a way where his mouth is an inch away from mine.

I release him with a jerk and step backwards. Heat flushes my cheeks. “N-nothing.”

He narrows his eyes. I look down, unable to take his suspicious stare.

“Follow me.” He pushes the double doors. My steps imitate his own, grateful that he doesn’t press the issue.

I need to work on secrecy around him if I don’t wish to make a fool out of myself.

You already did, Mae.

The door closes behind us with a click. We resume our walk into a long hallway furnished with a stone grey carpet. The lower half of the walls is decorated with an expensive-looking mosaic of different parcels of grey. We pass wooden doors the same colour as Aaron’s hair and suit, all closed, forbidding any enquiries of my part.

Except a faint ray of sunlight from a tall window at the end of the hallway, there’s little to no life in this place. It’s the complete opposite of the lavish hall outside.

Which one of them is the real Aaron? He seems to fit into both categories so damn well.

Something warm and solid hits my head. I grimace at colliding with Aaron’s back. I was so absorbed in taking in my surroundings that I didn’t notice when he stopped.

He motions for me to go inside the only open door.

“Are you going to leave?” God. I want to slap the desperateness out of my voice. Yet, I’d rather be with him than alone.

The Devil’s company is better than no company.

“Don’t be a child, Mae.”

I cross my arms. “Give me back my life and I will be a child somewhere else, Mr all mature.”

His eyes fix mine and I can’t help but drown into those grey flecks. “Go inside your room.”

“My room?”

My question goes unanswered as he picks up his phone from his pocket,