Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             Slumping on the large bed, coldness dissipates little by little. With its disappearance, an unwelcome wave of chaotic emotions rushes into the back of my consciousness.

                             My gaze darts around the room. If only I can find something to use as distraction. Black leather sofa and chairs. Dark grey walls. A large black table. Grey curtains. An endless mixture of black and grey. No life whatsoever. Beside the light, there’s nothing that illuminates this room. My hand extends to the nightstand to fetch a remote control. TV would be nice.

                             There’s no monitor in sight. I press the power button nonetheless. A screen lights up at the far end of the room.

                             That was a monitor? I thought it was part of the wall.

                             My hand swipes around the remote. All I have to do is find a film. They always cheered me up. Even if my current state isn’t exactly a minor case of stress.

                             If only I could hug Mum and Dad. I need their calming words more than any time. Dad would bring me chocolate ice cream and tell me everything will be all right. Mum would tell me stories of how she handles situations and urges me to find solutions of my own. They will both hug me and tell me how much they love me.

                             Tears roll down my cheeks at those memories. Almost knocking me back into pathetic hysteria.

                             Stop, Mae. Don’t go there.

                             I wipe at my face, and focus on the monitor. I won’t fall that easily. I won’t.

                             The image that greets me isn’t a channel. It’s a split screen. Two different videos play at the same time. The first is an empty entrance of a mansion. Nothing but a lit grey stony pathway in sight. Everything else collapses in darkness. The second video feed is what draws my attention. It’s the lavish hall I travelled through when I first left the dungeons. Aaron and many other men dressed in black stand in the centre of it. Only two men are wearing refined tuxedos. My gaze squints. Is that Aaron’s brother? All the others are either in business suits or in black T-shirts and trousers. Aaron changed into dark blue trousers and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

                             I reach for the remote and click on the video. The hall extends on the whole screen. With it comes the sound of their conversation.

                             Aaron swings his fist and connects it with a man’s face in an Italian suit. I barely register the crunch before another blow sends the man staggering backwards.

                             I gasp. What is this?

                             “You only had one fucking job!” Aaron jabs his fist in the man’s stomach. Mine twists again as if wanting to vomit my intestines. “Was it that hard to find Celeste?”

                             Who’s Celeste? Who are all these people? Why are they standing still as Aaron beats the hell out of that man?

                             Another punch, straight to the man’s nose. This time, blood trickles down the man’s square jawline. “I told you to fight back!”

                             Aaron delivers one last blow before he’s yanked back by his brother. “Enough. This wasn’t Xan’s fault.”

                             Aaron confronts his brother, his expression is beyond the camera’s angle. “Because it’s yours. We wouldn’t have been in this mess if you didn’t invite Hampton.”

                             His voice is deep in a harsh, scary way. Anyone would’ve cowered back at such a threatening, authoritative voice. But Aaron’s brother doesn’t even flinch. He holds his gaze with a neutral expression.