Cruel King: A Royal Elite Book

by Kent, Rina

  Mum was my world while Daddy dearest lived with his real family.

  “It’s fine if you did,” Victoria continues.

  “We didn’t. Mum worked for a living you know. She didn’t leech off her lord husband.”

  Victoria’s upper lip twitches and I smile to myself.

  Small victories.

  “Astrid Elizabeth Clifford.”

  I wince at Dad’s deadly calm tone. If he calls me by my full name, then he disapproves.

  Not that he ever really approves of me.

  My fork clinks against the plate as I slightly lift my head to meet his punishing green eyes. The definite proof that I’m his daughter. That his genes collaborated in making mine.

  I’ll be eighteen a few weeks from now, but I still feel as small as the seven-year-old kid who begged him to stay. The stupid little kid who painted him as my first kindergarten picture.

  Henry Clifford is still strong and well-built for someone in his mid-forties. His dark brown hair, another something I inherited, is slicked back, highlighting his strong forehead and the straight, aristocratic nose.

  His pressed navy suit clings to his body as if he were born into one. I certainly don’t remember him out of it.

  When I was a kid, I used to feel out of my skin with joy whenever he showed up.

  Now, he just intimidates me.

  I don’t know when he stopped being my dad and started being his title.

  Victoria places her hand on top of Dad’s with a sickeningly sweet smile that’s causing me diabetes. “It’s okay, darling. She’ll come around.”

  Kill me now.

  “Morning!” A breeze of strong cherry perfume — that must’ve cost another fortune — brushes past me.

  Nicole kisses her mum and my dad on their cheeks before flopping on Dad’s left.

  We’re wearing the same school uniform, but she somehow makes it look more elegant with a pressed blue skirt and the shirt’s cuffs rolled over RES’s jacket. Her blonde hair falls in waves to the middle of her back as if every strand was taken care of separately.

  Of course, unlike me, Nicole doesn’t eat like a pig. She takes her time to cut and shew while conversing with the adults about her upcoming tests and school activities.

  Hanging my head, I push around the remnants of my cheesecake, not bothering to eat.

  To say I feel like a stranger would be an understatement. Victoria and Nicole always snatch Dad’s attention while I sit here as unnoticeable as a wallflower.

  I try to ignore the stab of hurt when Dad offers Nicole a smile he never gives me anymore. All I get from him are drawn brows and disapproving stares.

  “Maybe you can study math with Astrid,” Victoria suggests in an awfully cheerful mode. “I’m sure Nicole can help you get better results.”

  I would rather choke on my own vomit, thank you very much.

  “If you weren’t so stubborn to refuse a private tutor, maybe you wouldn’t have catastrophic results.” The edge of disapproval in Dad’s voice is like a knife to my heart. “Why can’t you be like Nicole?”

  “Why don’t you adopt her and spare us all the misery?” I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but it came out, anyway.

  The clinks and clanks of utensils stop as silence stakes claim in the dining area. Even the kitchen staff stop mid-stride.

  My ears heat with both shame and anger.

  Maybe my own dad should stop comparing me to his perfect stepdaughter.

  Maybe he should’ve left me alone after Mum died.

  At least then, I wouldn’t feel like a stranger whenever I’m around his family.

  I snatch my backpack and jump out of my seat before Dad can burn me some more.

  Behind me, Victoria tells him, “Astrid is just going to be Astrid.”

  I wipe a tear from my eye as I make my way out.

  I miss you so much, Mum.

  Sketchpad in hand, I wait near the entrance of the park for Dan to pick me up.

  Since it’s early, only joggers come in and out of the park. I like watching the exertion and how much they work for what they want.

  Capturing those moments have been my passion.

  Or rather. Was.

  All the charcoal lines blur into something unrecognisable. The slight tremor in my hand hasn’t subsided since the accident. For two and a half months, I haven’t been able to sketch anything properly.

  No matter how much I try, it isn’t there anymore.

  The magic disappeared.

  The doctor said there’s no physical damage and that all of this is mental. The shrink said that I could be resisting something or that I’m under a lot of stress. My trauma is translating into my ability to create art.

  I wanted to tell him that I have no trauma. That I’m going to find who ran me over and teach them a lesson and everything will be totally cool. However, Dr Edmonds is psychoanalysing me a lot already.

  The last thing I need is for him to suggest some psyche ward to Dad.

  I sigh as I throw the sketchpad back into my backpack.

  Sketching has been the only thing that kept me sane after Mum’s death. If I lose that, too, then it’s like losing another piece of Mum.

  At this rate, I’ll have nothing left of her.

  A honk startles me from my thoughts.

  Nicole’s Audi parks right in front of me, uncaring about half-blocking the park’s entrance.

  Of course, Nicole drives an Audi. Dad’s gift for her eighteenth birthday during the summer. The same summer that I spent recovering from an accident.

  Not that I’m bitter or anything.

  Besides, since Mum’s accident, I gave up on driving altogether.

  “I’d offer you a ride, but my car doesn’t do losers.”

  Her friend, Cloe, snickers from the passenger seat while applying lip gloss.

  Oh, for the love of Vikings. Nicole and her bitch friend are the last people I need to start my day.

  “You have nothing better to do with your time, Nicole?” I raise an eyebrow. “Aside from kissing my dad’s arse, of course.”

  “I just wanted to tell you how right you are for once. Uncle should just adopt me and erase you completely from the family registry. We all know you’ll never be able to carry the Clifford name as I can.”

  I swallow the stab of how much her words are right and how much they affect me even when I don’t want them to. It’s not about the name. It’s about how she’s going to steal Dad once and for all while I watch.

  “And yet, you’re still Nicole Adler.” I meet her malicious stare. “I don’t see a Clifford there. Do you?”

  She snarls, but Cloe nudges her arm. “Tell her to stay away.”

  Seeming to backpedal, Nicole measures me up and down with distaste like she and her mother did the first day Dad brought me to ‘their’ home.

  “Hey, Viking. Stay away from King.”

  I study my black nails, fighting a fake yawn. Nicole came with the ‘Viking’ nickname as a jab at how much I watch the show, but the joke is on her. That TV series has more stars than she’d ever have.

  “Last I checked, he’s the one who approached me.”

  “As if King would ever be interested in a charity case like you.” She spits out.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” I raise a mocking eyebrow. “Who holds the family name again?”

  “Stay away from King or you’ll regret it.”

  “Regret what?” Dan’s voice reaches me before he stands beside me and flings his arm around my shoulder.

  People who say that a knight in shining armour can only be a prince or a love interest or whatever are totally wrong. Mine has appeared in the form of my best friend.

  Daniel has parked his car down the street and made his way to stand by my side in front of bullies. Not that I can’t handle Nicole and her minion, but Dan knows how much these confrontations exhaust me.

  It’s no good for my invisibility case.

  Nicole’s face reddens as her eyes bounce from me to Daniel
and back again. “Just what we needed. The loser friend.”

  “Are we really going down that lane, Nicole?” Daniel asks in a tone that’s completely different from his normal carefree one.

  She gulps until I swear I almost hear her. That’s weird. Nicole hates Daniel as much as she loathes me — if not more. Actually, she’s marked him as an enemy before I came along, so it’s weird to see her not spit her venom as usual.

  “Bastard,” she mutters under her breath.

  “You might want to wipe that.” Dan rubs the side of his mouth with his thumb.

  “What?” Nicole asks.

  “Your bullshit.” He turns me around in the direction of his car.

  “Do as you’re told, Viking!” she shouts at my back.

  The best way to have me do something is to tell me not to do it.

  I’m tempted to stay close to Levi just to see Nicole’s face reddening with exertion, but even that priceless look isn’t worth it.

  I hate Levi King and everything he represents.

  Besides, after the little gift I left on his car yesterday, I’m sure he won’t bother me anymore.

  I’m proved wrong when I arrive at the school and part ways with Dan.

  As soon as I open the door to the art studio, I halt at the threshold and scream.

  8

  Astrid

  I didn’t start the war, but I’m fighting to the death.

  * * *

  All the canvases are painted in pitch black.

  Every single one of them.

  My muscles stiffen as I search around for any possible intruder. But there can’t be one, now can it?

  RES isn’t the type of school where anyone can come in and pull a stunt like this. Not to mention that I’m the only soul who’s around in the early mornings.

  “Just like a funeral, huh?”

  My spine snaps upright at the sinister tone right at my back.

  The click of the art studio’s door closing fills the space and sticks to the back of my throat.

  I whirl around and come face to face with those hypnotic eyes.

  Levi King.

  Just what I needed on this epic morning.

  “You did this?” I throw my arms in the direction of the canvases.

  “Who knows?” A smirk lifts his lips the slightest bit.

  There’s this air of nonchalance about him. A fuck you to the entire world surrounding him. In full rebel mood, his tousled hair is all over the place, but still has that supermodel look written all over it. There’s no tie in his uniform and he has the cuffs of his shirt rolled over the sleeves of his jacket.

  How can someone so gorgeous be the embodiment of the devil?

  I start towards the exit. “I’m telling the principal.”

  “Sure thing, princess. While you’re at it, tell him you painted my car’s windshield.”

  I come to a screeching halt and fold my arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He pushes off the door and it’s like he gained height. He’s become all broad and stiff and…

  Threatening. Intimidating.

  All humour vanishes from his face as if I was imagining all the smirks and nonchalant behaviour.

  It’s scary how much he masters his emotions, what to show and what to hide, when to stalk and when to attack.

  Something undecipherable shines in the depth of his eyes and they turn another completely different shade of blue.

  Deadly blue.

  The type of blue that's infested with sharks,

  I keep my position, refusing to let him affect me. But that doesn’t stop my limbs from screaming at me to step back.

  Levi King isn’t someone I want to play games with.

  One more year.

  If I stay out of trouble and finish this year peacefully, everything will be over.

  Any type of conflict will destroy my invisibility game.

  Despite my pride, I step back, matching his wide relentless strides. The air ripples with crackling tension that grips me by the gut. With every step forward, my heart hammers against my ribcage. I feel like the stupid little deer who lost her way from the herd and got herself stuck with a hungry, relentless predator.

  My shins hit the easel and I yelp. I grit my teeth at the effect I’m letting him have on me.

  “Stop!” I thrust both my palms against his chest and push him.

  I might as well be pushing a buffalo.

  A very toned one with hard ridges and pectorals and the whole thing.

  He doesn’t move back. Not even a step. If anything he leans closer into my personal space. So close that my hands are the only thing stopping his chest from crushing against mine. So close that he becomes tenfold more beautiful. So close that I smell cigarette and chocolate cheesecake on his breath.

  Wait. Is that on me from this morning’s breakfast? Because if this bully likes cheesecake, too, then I’m retiring from the food.

  “What do you want, Levi?”

  “It’s King to you.”

  “No, thanks. You have a name, why does everyone call you by your last name?”

  “You don’t ask the questions, princess. You only answer mine, understood?”

  I can’t believe the arrogance of this bastard. But then again, he’s had the school at the palm of his hands for two years, why wouldn’t he think everyone would bow down to him?

  “What do you want, your majesty?”

  He tilts his head at the sarcastic note and I jut my chin upwards. He looks down at my palms on his chest as if contemplating something.

  Before he can get any wild ideas, I remove my hands with a jerk.

  Big mistake.

  Levi advances into me like the bull from earlier, and I have no choice but to step over the easel and move back. My back hits the wall and a shiver draws down my core.

  Why the hell do I keep getting myself into corners with him?

  Levi slams his hand on the wall beside my head with his face mere inches from mine. My air supply comes in and out in short bursts. I can’t even breathe properly, afraid that this time my throbbing chest will surely become one with his.

  “I told you what I want.” His voice drops to a dangerous, low range. “But what did you do?”

  I fold my arms both to stop his chest from grazing mine and to control the hammering of my crazy heartbeat.

  My gaze trails in the opposite direction, refusing to meet his eyes. If I do, I have a feeling they’d swallow me whole and never let go.

  “I said.” His thumb and forefinger squeeze my chin, forcing me to face him. “What did you do?”

  I gulp against the feel of his skin on mine. The calloused, long fingers bring back memories of that night.

  Hit-and-run night.

  For the first time in months, the memories aren’t gory and gruesome like in my nightmares.

  No.

  It’s entirely different.

  These memories consume me like a case of drugs gone wrong — or maybe it’s gone right.

  Goosebumps form on my skin at the memory of how good it felt to be touched by him.

  How he elicited those desperate, foreign sensations in parts I thought didn’t exist.

  This same devil made me feel like no one did before.

  No. That was Ecstasy. Anyone could’ve touched me and it would’ve felt good.

  Only now, I’m under no drug influence and I might as well be. Tingles draw down my spine, and I have no way to fight them off.

  All I can do is show him that he can’t get through me.

  “I told you I’m not meeting you. It’s not my fault you assumed otherwise.”

  He raises one perfect, thick eyebrow. “Is that why you painted my car?”

  “That was for humiliating me in front of the entire school.”

  “That’s nothing compared to what I can do to you. Be a good little princess and I’ll let everything blow over.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Believe me, you don’t want
to go there.” Something menacing and sadistic shines in his gaze. It’s like he wants me to defy him so he can take sick pleasure in crushing me.

  That’s his type, isn’t it? They’re so rich and entitled and bored. So they make it their job to step on anyone in their path to fend off their boredom.

  If he steps on me just because he’s bored, I’ll make his life a living hell.

  He releases my chin, and I hate how the place his fingers touched feel empty and tingling at the same time.

  “I heard you’re not dropping the accident with the police.” His tone turns dispassionate.

  “You know about that?”

  Aside from Dan and the odd student here and there, I didn’t think my non-fatal accident meant much to RES, especially not to the point that Levi would know about it.

  My invisibility game must be getting too weak.

  “Drop it,” he says in that infuriating authoritative tone.

  “Huh?”

  “Stop going to the police station, stop digging your nose around. Drop. It.”

  “Are you out of your mind? You want me to let a criminal who left me to die off the hook?”

  “You look fine to me.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” A potent fire shoots through my veins. “While you were having fun in your stupid summer camps, I spent my days in physical and mental therapy. Bet none of you thought I’ll come back, but I’m here now and I’ll make anyone who made me suffer pay. So don’t you dare stand there and have the audacity to tell me to drop it. That will never happen, King.”

  I pant after my outburst. My ears and face are on fire and my entire body is stiff, but I don’t back down from his demonic stare.

  It actually feels super good to give him a piece of my mind. Screw him if he thinks he can make me give up on my justice.

  Something undecipherable flashes on his face as he steps back with his head tilted in that assessing, unnerving way.

  “I’ll play the game. Think carefully because this is the only time I give up the first move. What will make you give up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing, huh?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”