Ruin (The Rhodes 1)

“I promised not to fight if it isn’t necessary. In Hampton’s case, my hand was forced.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

He could still read my acting after all.

“Aaron.” Tristan edges closer to the camera until I can make out the pores in his skin. “You’re the only family I have left and I will do anything to keep you safe. Anything. Even if it goes against what you want. Do you understand?”

My eyebrows rise. “Is that a love confession or a threat?”

“I’m serious,” he says in his you’re-my-responsibility voice. “The only reason I shackle you with the targets’ system is to rein in your self-destruction. I have your best interest in mind.”

Tristan’s weakness is me. He shouldn’t have, for any reason, given me emotional power to manipulate him with.

I bow my head. “If you care about me, you won’t send me to the mental institute.”

“Don’t give me a reason to.”

Fucker.

“And drop the vulnerability act.” He pushes off his chair to pour himself Bourbon from the hotel room’s cabinet.

One of these days, I will make Tristan fall. So hard. He wouldn’t even know what happened. Perhaps then, he’d understand he’s not my damn keeper.

“When will I get a target?”

He takes a sip of his beverage. “Not now.”

“It’s been a whole week. Eight days of constant scratching while I conduct the stupid affairs and smile at people whose heads I want to rip off. I did my part. Now, give me my due. I worked for that blood!”

Tristan’s brows knit together. “You used to go fine for a week.”

“Never did.” I spit the words out. “I was only better at controlling the urges. Now, they’re worsening.”

“That can’t go on. We will deal with the situation once I return.”

“I can’t take this until Your Grace comes back from the other end of the world!”

“Fine.” He releases a long breath. “I was going to let my guards take care of this target, but since you need it, it’s yours.”

Perhaps I won’t make him fall so hard after all.

“Who?” I ask.

“Celeste.”

Memories from our time together rush back. She is a female replica of me. I taught her how to kill and, in return, she demonstrated some forgotten torture methods. I only had one partner in my assassin career, and it was her.

“You’re not apprehensive about killing her, are you?” Tristan asks.

I smirk. “Of course not.”

Now she’s another target. A thrilling one. The hunt is already calling to me, and she better not disappoint my expectations.

“Good.” Tristan takes another sip of his drink.

Strange. He never mentioned her before.

“Why do you want her dead?” I ask.