Ruin Book One: Obsessed

Reyna

Rich people don’t look real up close.

Their skin glows. Their teeth flash. Their cologne costs more than my rent. And here I was, holding a silver tray of champagne like I belonged at their feet.

The gala was for something pointless—tech billionaires flexing their charity muscles in a glass tower downtown. I was working the floor in heels I could barely stand in and a black dress short enough to keep the tips generous.

I hadn’t eaten since 8 a.m.

I had $23.11 in my bank account.

And I needed something to go my way.

That’s when I saw them.

The twins.

Everyone whispered about them: The Harrington Brothers.

Grayson and Knox.

Grayson wore all black. Dark hair. Cold eyes. His stare alone could cut glass.

Knox wore navy blue. Golden brown hair, softer jaw, lazy smile. Dangerous in a different way.

They didn’t walk into the room—they owned it. People parted like they were royalty.

And then?

They both looked at me.

Like I was prey.

I swallowed and turned away—only to find them behind me three minutes later at the bar.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Grayson said.

“I work here,” I replied, forcing a polite smile.

Knox leaned in, eyes on my lips. “That’s not what he meant.”

“What did he mean?”

Grayson slid a black card onto my tray. “We’d like to offer you something.”

“…A drink?”

“Ten thousand dollars,” Knox said.

I blinked. “What?”

“One night,” Grayson clarified.

My brain scrambled.

They were tall. Perfect. Dangerous.

And offering me ten grand?

“For what?” I asked, heart pounding.

Knox tilted his head. “You know what for.”

I glanced at the bar, then the card, then them.

“…Is this a joke?”

Grayson smirked. “You think we joke?”

I looked around. The room blurred. My breath caught.

“What’s the catch?”

Grayson leaned down until his mouth was by my ear.

“You don’t say no. You don’t talk back. You don’t leave until we say you’re finished.”

“And if I say yes?”

Knox answered this time. “Then you belong to us tonight.”

---

Ten minutes later, I was in the back of their limo.

The windows tinted. The doors locked.

My tray forgotten.

My dress? Already sliding off my shoulder.

They didn’t touch me yet. Just watched.

Knox loosened his tie. Grayson poured whiskey.

“You’re nervous,” Grayson noted.

I didn’t answer.

“You should be,” Knox said. “But you’ll thank us later.”

I scoffed. “You think you’re gods?”

“No,” Grayson said, setting his glass down. “We’re worse.”

The car pulled into an underground garage.

The door opened.

I stepped out.

And that’s when they said it. In sync. Two mouths. One sentence.

“You belong to us now.”