Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             I storm to the car when my phone buzzes.

                             “What?” I bark at Tristan.

                             “There’s five minutes until the meeting. Where are you?”

                             The driver opens the back door. I slide inside and throw my weight on the leather seat. “I’m calling in sick.”

                             “You were perfectly fine an hour ago.” His tone’s impatient. I can picture him tapping on the desk. “You’re not sick.”

                             “I am now.”

                             Click.

                             My phone beeps.

                             Tristan— Here’s how it goes. If you don’t show up to the meeting, I’m making you the main host of the banquet we’re throwing.

                             Dylan calls. I hang up.

                             I switch off my phone and thrust it in my pocket. They can both go fuck themselves. I’m in no mood for signing contracts I couldn’t care less about.

                             What the hell am I doing in the family business anyway? It never interested me.

                             My other career choice...

                             I stare at my hands. It’d be too heavy on my bloodlust. My demons would go rampant in a setting filled with blood.

                             “Where to, Sir?” The driver asks.

                             I throw my head back and seal my eyes shut. There’s this pleading voice inside me, not my demons’, that begs to see the little mouse.

                             “Home.”

                             No matter how far away that sounds.



                             . . . . .



                             The dark curtains block most the afternoon’s light, casting a grey hue on my office. I sit behind the huge desk, twirling a scotch in my hand. A picture of a black jaguar hangs in the opposite wall. Its black brings safeness.

                             Kane’s bulky frame crowds the leather chair across from mine.

                             Although I’d rather be with my kitten, Kane’s report is a must to not fall behind Tristan’s Intel. I take a sip of my scotch. The spicy taste explodes in my mouth before the liquid soothes my throat. “Go on.”

                             Kane’s shoulders straighten as he meets my stare. “Xan and his team are not letting anything slip about their trip with Tristan.”

                             Sinking further into my chair, I throw a dismissive hand. “That’s expected. What else?”

                             There’s the briefest hesitation before he swallows it down. “Three members of the security team saw your guest knocking at the window after you left.”

                             The glass of scotch is left forgotten on the table as I straighten my back. “Were there any of Xan’s team around?”