Page 101 of Mine to Ruin

When we reach his parents’ miniature castle, my eyes widen and my mouth drops.

“Is this where they live?”

“Yes, they like to show off.” A butler greets us, and we step inside. My heels click on the marble floor, engraved with a big R in the middle.

I can’t help myself and say, “Now I see why you like to put your initials on everything.”

“Yes, I have one more thing I’d like to put my name on.”

Goosebumps erupt on my skin at his deep voice, dripping with promise. The determination etched in his eyes sends a rush through my system.

Brandon appears with a glass of champagne. He is dressed in a tuxedo; his brownish hair styled back. He hugs me then lifts me up, and I squeal.

“If you drop her… and take your hands off her. Now.”

Brandon puts me down then raises his hands in a nonthreatening way while wearing a playful grin.

“Possessive much? Please tell me he compensates in other ways.”

“100 percent,” I mouth, and Brandon chuckles, his eyes dancing with mischief.

He puts an arm over my shoulder and dips his head and kisses my cheek.

Kian cocks his head and scans him, and says with a smirk, “Did we ever spar?”

“No.”

“Next week, I’ll let you know the time.”

“Really?” Brandon’s excitement rivals that of a child. If only Kian would understand, all he does is just to get his attention. I am happy for him.

“Oh, little brother, we’ll see if you still like it afterwards.”

My heart fills with warmth at seeing them together, knowing how much this means to Brandon and the fact that Kian is trying. I lift on my toes and kiss Kian’s lips then I murmur.

“Thank you.”

His parents descend the bifurcated stairs, looking as if they’re royals, and his mother says, “I hope that was a very poor joke.”

“Mom,” Brandon pleads, and Kian’s mood plummets.

She has to be the reason why Kian is so strange with Brandon, but I don’t know what it is. It has to be more than her acid words. I tilt my head and my eyes land on his father. I can’t believe that, even if they are so physically alike, one man has me loving him like there is no tomorrow, and the other scares me to my bones.

A light tremor courses through me, and Kian puts his arms around me and greets his parents, “Jillian, Richard.”

“Kian,” they reply in unison and I wonder if Brandon is blind to this exchange, because he gives nothing away.

I can’t understand this family’s dynamics. Kian’s muscles strain behind his jacket, like a lion in its cage, and now I understand what he said that day in the zoo. His grandfather rounds the corner, holding a flute of champagne.

They shake hands, and he dips his head, kissing me on my cheek, and says, “Ellia, nice to meet you again.”

The awkwardness from last time is missing, but in his grayish gaze, I spot the same pain that I saw during the opening of my gallery. We move toward the dining room, and we take our seats at what appears to be an endless table, with a chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

The first course arrives; Kian’s hand finds my thigh, and he squeezes lightly. I lift my chin, and I relax, my entire being under his spell.

“I see you two are still together,” his mother says with disdain coating her lips.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Kian retorts in a cold undertone.

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