Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             “I call whenever I have time.” He points at me. “You are the one who doesn’t pick up. Are you ignoring me?”

                             “I am not.”— I am— “I don’t keep the phone on me when I’m occupied with business.”

                             His lips tighten, then he sighs, brushing it off. He used to be the best at reading my deception. Perhaps I outgrew him after all.

                             ‘Which means we can get what we want.’

                             Quiet, demons. I’m trying to have a civilised conversation here.

                             Tristan leans back into his chair. “How are things in the estate?”

                             He left some of his personal guards behind, to send detailed reports, and yet he thinks of misleading me. I may not care, but I observe and record every little thing in my surroundings.

                             “Same old. But I’m sure Dylan filled you in. He has been my keeper since you went to Japan.”

                             The blackness in Tristan’s eyes, almost identical to mine, softens. “He’s the only one we can call a family friend.”

                             “Dylan may be your friend, but he isn’t mine. He’s only a pain in the arse.”

                             “You’re the only pain in the arse between the three of us.”

                             “Then maybe the two of you should stop acting like my parents.”

                             “We will, when you stop jeopardising what we worked years to accomplish.” He raised his eyebrows in a challenge. One I wouldn’t take. This exchange isn’t worth it. “Anything else happened?”

                             I take a sip of water from the bottle in front of me. “Some bothersome journalists who refuse to leave me in peace.”

                             “They’re curious about us. We own one of the most powerful conglomerates not only in England but also in the world. Not to mention our titles. Naturally, they will not stop until we give them something. We agreed that you will allow them an interview.”

                             “I didn’t agree. You ordered.” My left eye twitches. “The type of orders that I don’t listen to.”

                             “Aaron.” His voice takes its stern father tone. “An interview won’t hurt. We need to maintain the family’s image.”

                             “You do it. You’re the duke after all, Your Grace.”

                             “Fine. But you will be there with me.”

                             “No, and that’s final.” I place my hands behind my head and relax further into the leather of the sofa.

                             He grits his teeth. “You’re infuriating most of the time, do you know that?”

                             I grin in response. Irritating Tristan is one of my favourite hobbies. Like a payback of some sort.

                             “We’ll discuss the interview some other time, for now...” He cuts off when his gaze travels to the bruise on my chest. “When did you get that?”