3. Language Difference
3
Language Difference
T HE stiff wind played with her hair, and Roselin shifted from one foot to the other, with only the dim street light as a beacon in the dark night. The painting rested against her hip, packed into brown paper to protect the canvas. It was a good thing it didn’t rain.
For the millionth time, Roselin took the compact mirror out of her purse. Somehow, she had convinced herself that if she looked pretty enough, Ryu might want to spare her. Hopefully, he liked cat eyes and red lipstick. The black dress she wore hugged her body, exposing the top of her goosebumps-covered breasts.
She zipped up her jacket and checked her phone; no new messages after the one telling her to be ready, which she had been for the past half hour.
A midnight blue SUV stopped in front of her. She forced herself to stand still and not back away. An older man, with silver strands running through his dark hair, in a suit and black gloves stepped out of the car. He nodded to Roselin, opening the backseat door.
“The painting?” Roselin said in a strained voice. The driver gestured again for her to get in. “I can’t leave the painting.”
Another vehicle stopped behind them. The same two men — twins — from this afternoon came out. Roselin hid deeper inside her coat. Without uttering a word, they took the artwork and went back into the other car. Her mind tried to wrap around what was happening, attempting to make sense of the situation. Instead, dread drowned out any reason. Lost, she stared at the other vehicle where her painting was. She didn’t want to part from it as if the canvas was her personal shield.
The bulky man emerged from the car again. Not waiting for the why, Roselin quickly slid into the backseat. The thought of not knowing where she was going or what would happen frightened her to the core. Nothing outside of the window seemed familiar. Not the streets nor the buildings. To be fair, she hadn’t explored much since she’d arrived in Arcadia two years ago for Uni. The Roman part of the city with the campus, cafes, clubs, museum, and the park was all she needed to find.
Roselin knocked on the tinted glass dividing the back and front seats. “Where are we heading?”
No answer.
“Don’t I deserve to know where we’re going?”
Still nothing.
Roselin sighed and crossed her arms. Stupid, so stupid. The radio turned on, and the newsreader was in the middle of his segment. Something about how their beloved city didn’t have to worry about the growing violence against Mageía. Couldn’t he at least put on some music while they drove to her death?
They rolled to a halt before a tall, modern building. The words Hogo Security gleamed on the front. The driver opened the car door for her. A woman with kind eyes waited for them outside by the automatic doors. They must be in the outer ring around the city centre.
The twins followed them inside with the painting. “Careful,” Roselin warned them as they almost hit the canvas against the entrance, granting her a glare from them.
With every level the elevator passed, her heartbeat rose until it pounded in her ears. The door opened, and a breath she didn’t know she was holding escaped her lips as her lungs forced her to draw a new one. The office building is empty… Perfect for a murder . Roselin blinked at the woman and wondered if she knew what was going on. Part of her wanted to ask.
“This way, please,” the woman said when Roselin didn’t exit the elevator.
No other people were on their floor, and probably not on the others either. Despite being dimmed, the lights shone bright enough to see. The front desk and a waiting area stood empty. Disappointed, she stared at the blank walls. One would think somebody would buy some paintings to make the office seem less dull.
Roselin peaked inside a shared workspace where high-tech equipment showed how well the company—whatever it may be—was doing. There wasn't much time to look. The pace of the woman who led the way was too fast to allow any glancing around.
They stopped at another office. Ryu waited with his back towards them, facing the wall of windows overlooking the city. On the conference table stood the pumps she lost. Roselin froze in the door opening, chewing the inside of her cheek.
“Mister Botan, your art and visitor have arrived.”
The twins pushed past her, forcing her to step into the room. “Watch it,” Ryu snarled, and she was unsure if he talked about the painting or her.
He held out his hand to her. Hesitantly, she inched closer. Her heart skipped a beat when she caught a glimpse of a gun on the men setting down the canvas.
“I thought guns were forbidden,” Roselin said before she could stop herself.
Ryu followed her gaze, smirked, and gestured for them to leave. “Not for my men.”
It provided little comfort, and she was uncertain about why they were permitted. But this wasn’t the time to ask questions.
She stood in front of him. Ryu held her chin again, his hand warm on her skin, and Roselin watched his face. His eyes glanced over her body, pausing for a second on her breasts before meeting her gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched up. “I guess I got two art pieces today.” He kissed her cheek, his nose brushing her skin, lingering for a moment. “Our keeper of ethics.”
Roselin wasn’t sure if he could still call her anything related to ethics. Her morals went away when she didn’t go to the police.
“Did you have a pleasant ride?”
“Your driver is a bit rude,” she mumbled. “I mean… he ignored me.” She tried to choose her words carefully, as the feeling of treading on thin ice conflicted with her own mind.
“He’s not ignoring you, darling. The driver is mute.”
Her cheeks heated. Her lips formed an O, and Roselin wished she could fall through the ground. Stupid , Rose, really stupid. Even so, the thought that Ryu might be the reason the driver was mute crept into her mind.
“The money should be in your bank account,” Ryu said.
She narrowed her eyes as she took her phone. “How do you know my bank information?” A sharp breath pushed past her lips. Eight-thousand Arcadia .
“I just know things, my Rose.”
He stepped away from her, and Roselin wiped her sweaty hands on her dress. With care, Ryu lifted the canvas and removed the brown paper. For a long, silent moment, he stared at the painting. He took in each brush stroke, every shade of blue, and she couldn’t help but watch him. Like a few hours ago in the atelier, Ryu’s posture changed while something lay hidden in his eyes. Recognition?
“Why do you paint?” Ryu asked.
She thought for a second. “I feel as if people talk in a language I don’t understand, but art… Art and I speak on the same wavelength.”
“The language of emotions.” He placed the canvas down diligently.
“But much simpler,” she said softly.
He leaned back against the table. “Did you grow up in the city?”
Roselin shook her head. “No, a village in a different country.”
“Small-town girl.” He chuckled.
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Not really. I struggled to fit in.”
“So you came to the grand city to follow your dreams?” Ryu asked. This time, she genuinely laughed. Unlike others, she didn’t move to New Arcadia to feel important and become rich—the big dream the founders advertised. “Is that funny?” He stroked a strand of her hair out of her face and rested his finger under her chin.
“I’m not sure if I have any dreams.”
“Everyone has them.”
“Oh, yeah. What are yours?”
A frown wrinkled his forehead as he took his time to answer her. “Safety.”
She glanced around the office. “Are you one of the founders?” The worry had washed away, although the weariness stayed in the back of her brain.
His warm laugh filled the room. “No, I’m not. Why would you think so?”
“You seem wealthy, powerful… Perhaps not that ethical.” She whispered the last part.
The founders were influential billionaires who thought their countries weren’t doing enough to create the perfect society—even for Mageía. So they made an island and built the city, New Arcadia.
“Not that wealthy.” Ryu’s hand snaked around her waist as he watched the stars shining in the night sky. The top floor looked out over most of the buildings. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes, although I prefer the sunset.” Yet, the view was stunning.
His lips turned up into a smile. “This is one of the few buildings in the centre where you can see the sunset. We’ll watch it together sometime.”
“Guess you can’t kill me then,” Roselin said as she watched his face furrow in confusion.
“What makes you believe I’m going to kill you?” His eyes met hers. She nibbled on her lips before his finger pulled them from her teeth. Ryu stroked the skin of her cheek, kissing her softly. “I wouldn’t kill someone innocent. Are you innocent?”
No, she was not, but this was neither the time nor the person she wanted to discuss her sins with. He kissed her again, his lips soft against hers. When he pulled away, she grabbed his suit and kissed him deeper. She wasn’t sure why he was so mesmerising, but he was.
“Why don’t you trust me?” he breathed against her lips.
“Maybe I don’t know how to trust people.”
His lips brushed against the crook of her neck. “Maybe you should learn to.” He pushed her up against the window, her back towards him, and her hands braced against the glass. One hand cupped her breast as the other caressed her upper leg. A nice kind of shiver ran through her. Ryu’s fingers skimmed up, leaving a tingling trace on her body. He slid his hand into her panties, and her nipples pebbled. A soft moan escaped her. Goodness, all holy. Why did he make her melt like snow under his heat?
Her breath quickened, creating condensation on the glass. Ryu’s hand left her breast and held her face, bringing her lips to his. His tongue dominated her mouth, and damn, he tasted good. She pushed her ass back against his bulge. It gave her satisfaction that he was aroused like her. That he wanted her like she wanted him. Yep, she definitely couldn’t be called anything close to ethical.
His fingers found the rim of her panties. He bent, sliding her lingerie down. Rising to his feet, he raised her dress to expose her naked ass.
She arched her back, pushing herself against him again, her skin rubbing the fabric of his trousers. Ryu pulled away, and she pouted until she heard the sound of his zipper.
“Ryu,” she breathed impatiently.
He didn’t reply, but pressed his length against her slit. Before she could ask to use protection, he held a paper before her eyes. “I’m clean. Are you still on birth control?”
His fingers teased her, and all she could do was nod. She moved against his hand. “Please.”
Ryu turned her around, bringing their mouths together. With one arm, he leaned against the glass, his breath soft against her skin. He didn’t stop rubbing her clit. The pressure built up in her stomach to the point of overtaking her. Her legs trembled, and he stopped at the last moment. She cursed under her breath.
“Patience is a valuable virtue,” he whispered in her ear. Like he was the one to talk about virtue.
“I thought you were teaching me about trust?”
“I am.” He lifted her and laid her on the table, her legs spread before him. His hungry gaze scanned over her body. Her cheeks heated, and she closed her eyelids. “Don’t. I want to see your eyes when we make art.”