All Chapters of Ruined: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The breeze brushed him gently, carrying the faint scent of the city’s night air, car exhaust, cold stone, the distant tang of rain not yet fallen. Josh drove him home in silence, the windows down at Williams’ command. The man always obeyed without question, never asking why his employer, who normally preferred silence and temperature control, suddenly wanted the raw outside air sweeping through the car like a cleansing ritual. Williams sat back, posture unyielding despite the fatigue pulling at his bones. He let the wind touch his face, cool against the heat that lingered beneath his skin. He needed it. Needed something simple. Something that wasn’t velvet-draped walls, marble floors stained with blood. Then his phone vibrated. The screen lit against the shadows of the backseat, and the name froze his chest in place. Father. Williams’ breath caught. His thumb hovered above the device, motionless, as his pulse thundered once in his throat. Of all the people, of all the times, his fat

Awake, Williams found himself sprawled across his bed. For a moment, disorientation clouded his mind, how had he gotten here? Then clarity returned. Josh must have carried me in. Loyal as always. A smile tugged at his lips. If the boy hadn’t proven his worth countless times, Williams would have discarded him long ago. Maybe loyalty deserved a reward. He rubbed his neck, eyes catching his own reflection in the tall mirror across the room. His gaze dropped, lingering briefly on the hard evidence pressing against his pants. The clock on the wall glowed 6:00 a.m. Josh usually arrived by seven. The door creaked open. “Sir, do you need anything?” Williams arched a brow. Surprising. He hadn’t expected him this early. He beckoned Josh closer. The boy obeyed, quietly. When Josh knelt down. Williams let the moment unfold without hesitation with his hands tugging at the strands of Josh’s hair. Later, steam curled from the bathroom as Williams emerged, his body scrubbed clean, his mind at ease

The sun had already shifted. Cars came and went, engines humming, brakes sighing, the valet tent buzzing with the rhythm of service. Kyle leaned against one of the tent’s poles, the metal pressing into his shoulder as he half-watched his partner jog off with a guest’s car. He thought of the emergency meeting. His head was filled with too much. The way every staff had looked at one another like suspects, the flicker of tension in Williams Thorne’s sharp eyes as he’d taken control of the room. Now, Kyle needed a break. A real one. No plotting, no paranoia. Just a moment to breathe and pass as the man everyone thought he was: another hotel valet, broke, tired, surviving shift to shift.“Bro, I swear if one more guest throws me their car key like I’m a dog catching a bone, I’ll lose it,” Jamal muttered beside him. Jamal was twenty-three, sharp-tongued, with a permanent smirk that made even complaints sound like jokes. “You’ll lose it and then lose your job,” Eric, one of the bellboys, sho

Williams lay sprawled across the hotel bed, one arm dangling over the edge, his breath slow and uneven. Sleep had claimed him like a thief in the night, and for once, he didn’t resist. But the shrill vibration of his phone shattered the fragile calm. The device buzzed insistently on the nightstand, rattling against the wood. Groaning, he rolled over, fumbling until his hand closed around it. He pressed the screen without looking, squinting against the harsh light. His heart sank when he saw the name. Mr. Gabriel. His father. Williams forced his voice into something steady. “Hello, Father.” “Yes, hello,” came the deep reply. No greeting, no softness, just business wrapped in authority. “There’s something I want us to talk about, together with the manager of the hotel you’re assigned to.” Williams swallowed. “Okay.” “I’m coming to the hotel so we can discuss.” He hesitated. “What time should I expect you?” “Fifty minutes is fine.” “Alright.” The line went dead, leaving behind only the b

~ Kyle ~Could it be that there’s someone just like me that seeks revenge on the Thornes? The thought twisted inside him like a knife as he paced the narrow service unit behind the valet tent. It wasn’t much of a room, bare concrete walls, one flickering fluorescent bulb that hummed faintly overhead, and a line of metal hooks where caps and jackets hung like tired sentries. His boots echoed softly against the floor, each step a rhythm that carried his unease deeper into his bones. Caleb. Sweet, harmless Caleb. The boy’s face kept flashing in Kyle’s mind, pale and soft, almost too tender for this world of lies and brutal power. He had been the one hurt in the hotel incident. The one everyone pitied. The one who was suddenly at the center of whispers that refused to die. But Caleb? He didn’t even look like he could crush a fly, let alone get tangled in plots sharp enough to bruise empires. Kyle couldn’t picture him stringing together anything darker than a smile. He was the kind who’d t