Page 48 of Mine to Ruin

A cough startles me and I freeze on the spot, choking on my sandwich. There’s a gray-haired man dressed in an impeccable white shirt and bespoken black suit in the living room.

“I apologize. I didn’t want to scare you. I am Walter, Kian’s grandfather,” the older man says. My hand drops from my heart and I take in the similarities, from their eyes to their tall frame.

“Hello,” I say as I wave my hand, and add, “I am Ellia. I am…”

“Mine.” Kian’s voice resounds from the entrance.

I roll my eyes at him and his eyes challenge me to deny it. He closes the door behind him.

“Old man, I was expecting you tomorrow.”

His eyes, a gray-green that looks a bit washed, narrow into mine, and Walter says, “You didn’t say your last name.”

“Why?” Kian asks and presses me to him. He is as intimidating as his grandfather.

“Dewine.”

“I see. Thank you. Excuse my poor manners. You look like someone I used to know.” Pain crosses his features, an ashen color taking over his smooth face, wrinkled at the corners of his mouth and eyes.

“I have to go,” I offer before I head out the door.

Kian accompanies me outside and takes my mouth with his, and my protest dies on my tongue. I push him off me a minute later, this greedy man, and he smacks my ass as I rush toward the elevator.

Chapter 15

Kian

This woman, my woman, has me acting like an idiot. If she says jump off a cliff, I would say now or can I have a kiss before? Having her, sliding inside her, that sweet scent, those eyes and lips, her curious side and she’s funny. I want her, madly. Now that I have her, I will keep her at any costs.

Even after the doors slide shut, I remain rooted to the floor. I shake myself out of my Ellia-induced trance. Yesterday, I almost begged her to stay, to have her near me. She makes everything better, and I am hungry for an ounce of easiness.

When I woke up and saw her sleeping like the angel she is, her mane of curls on my pillow, my heart did something strange, it fluttered. And through the meeting, her image rushed through my head, and I smiled like an idiot even when they informed me of a delay.

I shut the door behind me and ask, “What is wrong with you?”

“I apologize if I sounded odd. Please, let it slide.” His eyes look forlorn, and it takes everything in me to let it go. He made her uncomfortable.

He strides toward the bar and pours himself a glass of whiskey. “I am impressed. I knew I did the right thing by putting you in charge, but you have surpassed my expectations.”

“I earned that. But you wanted to punish your son.”

“He is your father, and yes.”

“Biologically.” I approach him and fill one glass, too, another trait I got from him. Sometimes I believe he made me after himself.

We raise our glasses and he says, “I had to teach Richard a lesson. What he did was unforgivable.” He claps my shoulders and asks, “So you found her?”

I nod and he adds, “Hmm, you take after me, even in this.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, raising a brow.

“Only artists seem to capture our hearts.” Before I can ask what the fuck he means by that, he continues, “Does she know the length you went to for her painting.”

“What matters is she’s here, mine, and I won’t let her go.”

“I never thought the day would come when a woman would have you enraptured. She must be special.” He smiles, mocking me, and anger boils inside me. “It’s okay, Kian, every man kisses the floor once in his life for the right woman.”

My brow furrows. “I thought you and Grandmother had a marriage of convenience?”

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