Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent
“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.
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