Page 60 of Ruin (The Rhodes 1)


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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, his voice curt. “I will be out in a minute. Stop pestering me.” Then he hangs up.

Aaron’s eyes aren’t lifeless. The sight of their softness calms me against all logic.

“I’m a busy man, little mouse.” His hand brushes against my back and propels me forward.

Click.

The first thing I’m glad for is the large window from which sunlight beams to submerge the room.

No darkness anymore.

The space is filled with elegant, antique furnishing. Like in some Victorian painting. The bed sheets and the curtains, pulled from the window, have beige and caramel patterns. My feet move to the console at the opposite side of the bed. Plush mocha carpets swallow my feet. I remove the slippers and sigh when softness meets my flesh. This is heaven compared to the cold ground of the dungeons.

When I stand in front of the full-length mirror, I scowl. My face is a carnival of tear lines, my hair a tangled mess, and Aaron’s clothes swallow me, making me look homeless. I’m becoming an ugly creature both inside and out.

Ripping my gaze from the reflection, I turn to the window. My fingers latch around the handle to open the forged glass. It doesn’t move. After a few futile tries, I release it with a long sigh.

There’s no way to escape this. Not that I can jump from whatever floor this is.

Rays of sun heat my face, and I close my eyes, enjoying the exposure. When I open them again, I’m greeted by tall trees in the distance. I edge closer until my face glues to the glass. Is this a forest or something?

Down, what seems to be a back entrance of sorts. The undulant pavement of grey stones, outlined by bright grass, stretching for as long as my sight can go. More gigantic trees in the far distance.

Seriously. What is this place? Judging from the huge sub-terrain corridors and the imposing architecture above, this is either a manor or a palace. A fortress? I’m bad with differentiating those things.

Three black figures move at the faraway path. I squint to identify what they are. Once they get close, shapes of hands and legs come into view.

People!

“Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs, banging on the solid glass with both hands. “Help—”

My shouts are interrupted when the door to my room clicks open then shut.

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