THE MAN THEY TRIED TO ERASE

2

Finn sat in the passenger seat of Ruth’s luxury car, his eyes sharply tracing every detail of the interior: smooth black leather, polished wood panels, a sleek digital display glowing softly. Ruth sat beside him, wearing a wide smile, her gaze never straying from him.

“Are you new around here? I shop at that convenience store all the time, yet I’ve never seen you before, young man—who still hasn’t told me his name.”

Finn shifted awkwardly. “Oh… right. I’m Finn. I’ve been around here for a while, maybe we just never crossed paths.”

“Oh? And where exactly do you live?” Ruth asked, curiosity gleaming in her voice.

Finn hesitated. He had no intention of telling her the truth—that he had just walked out of a psychiatric ward after four wasted years, framed and discarded by his ex-wife. Too complicated. Too dirty.

“I… I’m homeless. I usually stay under…” His eyes darted to a bridge they were passing, and he pointed. “There. That bridge. I only come out at night.”

Ruth’s brows lifted in surprise. She looked him up and down slowly, then nodded, brushing her fingers lightly along his arm.

“You’re far too tidy to be a homeless man, though your appearance could use some work,” Ruth teased.

Finn only smiled, lifting his brows in amusement. Ruth leaned closer, her lips brushing near his ear as she whispered:

“I’ll give you plenty of fine clothes. You’ll look absolutely striking when you’re in my house.”

Her gaze lingered, brimming with playful mischief. Then she reclined in her seat, closing her eyes with an ease that unsettled Finn. Strange as it was, he began to accept it. At the very least, he’d finally have good clothes—and a chance at survival.

The drive took less than twenty minutes. Finn’s eyes widened when the car rolled into a vast estate, the mansion towering with an air of wealth and power.

“Ah, we’re here,” Ruth said softly, waking from her short rest.

The car stopped at the grand front terrace. Ruth gave a subtle gesture, and Finn followed her out.

Two servants greeted them as they entered. The wide hallway stretched ahead, its polished marble floors reflecting the glow of crystal chandeliers. The air carried hints of rare wood and expensive perfume. Classical paintings lined the walls, their gilded frames shimmering with the light. Gold-trimmed furniture and crystal ornaments completed the scene of extravagant luxury.

Finn’s eyes swept the details, not simply in awe but calculating, analyzing, measuring opportunities.

“So, what do you think of my home?” Ruth asked.

Finn nodded slightly. “Much like you—authentic and magnificent.”

Ruth flushed, then led him toward the dining hall with a warm smile. “Come, sit.”

The table overflowed with food: roasted meats filling the air with rich aroma, fresh fish, vibrant vegetables, exotic fruits, warm bread.

Finn’s head flooded with bitter memories of asylum meals from the past four years—filthy facilities, trays of cold, tasteless slop. Each bite back then had been humiliation more than nourishment.

“Please, help yourself,” Ruth said.

“I’m flattered… especially after the money you gave me. You’re incredibly generous, Ruth. Do you live here all alone?” Finn asked.

“Yes, I do. Would you be interested in keeping me company?” she replied with a sly, knowing smile.

Finn smirked as he spooned pasta onto his plate. “Who wouldn’t want to? A woman as beautiful as you must be a delight to live with.”

Ruth laughed lightly, clearly enjoying the game. “You do have a way of making yourself sound irresistible, Finn. That’s… charming.”

Their conversation faded into an unspoken tension—playful glances traded between bites of food, the air thick with suggestion.

“Ahh, I’m full,” Finn said at last, leaning back. “Such wonderful food, though I think my stomach could still handle two more pieces of bread.”

As he reached down for the breadbasket, Ruth suddenly leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek. Quick, but deliberate. Finn froze, then turned to her, eyes steady. His instincts screamed this was not mere flirtation—it was a test.

Henry, the bodyguard, tensed and stepped forward, but Ruth snapped at him. “Henry! Stop! Finn saved me, and you nearly caused trouble again.”

Henry halted, stiff-faced. His clenched fists slowly loosened as he stepped back, resuming his post by the door like a statue.

Ruth sighed, turning back to Finn with a faint smile. “Forgive him. Henry’s been with me for over twenty years. He’s more than a bodyguard—he’s family. He’s always protective… sometimes far too much.”

Finn glanced at Henry, then back at Ruth. “I can see that. The man looks loyal. Even if his methods are… intense.”

Ruth chuckled softly, raising her wine glass. “That’s because he knows I’m alone. My husband passed away fifteen years ago. I never remarried, and I have no children. So, it’s been Henry… and the young men who occasionally fill the emptiness.”

Finn stayed silent, his eyes glinting faintly.

Ruth’s voice softened, carrying a note of longing. “I’ve always been searching for a shadow of the past. You know… you look so much like my husband when he was young. Perhaps that’s why I find you so captivating. As if fate has returned something stolen from me.”

Her gaze locked onto his, a mix of nostalgia and hunger. Finn’s lips curved into a thin smirk, concealing thoughts far darker than simple seduction.

“You know, I—”

“How about we continue this in my bedroom?” Ruth cut him off, leaning closer. Her voice dropped to a husky whisper against his ear. “I want to show you the beautiful clothes I’ve prepared for you. Would you like that, Finn?”