Cruel King (Royal Elite #0) by Rina Kent

My grip tightens around the bottle of milk until it almost cracks. Still, I keep the carefree tone. “If by raising me, you mean, you spent money on me, then no thanks to you. My father was a King, too.”

“A useless one at that.” Jonathan deadpans as if he’s talking about a pet he disliked instead of his flesh and blood. “This family doesn’t need worthless members. If you use the King’s name, then give back what you use.”

“Such as?” I tilt my head.

He mirrors the gesture. “Study at Oxford.”

“Pass,” I say as nonchalantly as I can and take another swig of milk.

Aiden shakes his head, shooting me a disapproving glance, then he goes back to cutting and eating his bacon as if he’s all alone in the kitchen.

Screw him and his father.

Jonathan stands and buttons his pressed, dark blue jacket. “Our deal still stands, Levi. If you screw up one more time, your trust fund will be suspended until you’re twenty-five — as per your father’s will.”

“A will you forced him to write.”

“You’re lucky I had him leave you something in his state. Do you think he cared about you or your future?” He pauses for a beat.

Another intimidation method that he taught us. Silence always gets you what you want, he used to say. People are always compelled to fill the silence and it can be used to your advantage.

“Having me as your guardian is the best thing that happened in your life, punk. You’ll bend to me.”

I meet his harsh stare with my own. “A king doesn’t bend.”

“One without a crown does.”

And then he’s striding out of the kitchen like he already owns half the world and plans to conquer the other half.

I slam the bottle of milk against the counter and droplets scatter all around. With a long breath, I close my eyes to reign in the onslaught of sweeping anger rolling inside me.

A year.

I need shit to stay together until graduation, then I’m leaving Jonathan’s kingdom once and for all.

“You’re doing it all wrong.” Aiden places his empty plate on the sink beside me. “You think you can take him, but you can’t.”

“Want to bet?”

“I don’t make unprofitable bets.”

He perches over, staring at the board. Jonathan blocked Aiden’s knights, and any moves he makes will cost him either his rook or his bishop.

Typical Uncle. He always starts by making you lose your strongest defences.

“Careful there, Cousin.” I raise an eyebrow. “You’re underestimating me.”

“And you’re underestimating Jonathan. We all have the competitive streak, but he’s been in this game longer than us. How do you think he widened his empire? You’re supposed to back down when he rises so he doesn’t crush you.”

“If anyone crushes, it won’t be me.”

“I don’t know if you’re being an idiot or what, but he won’t hesitate about ruining your life. There’s nothing that stops him from stripping you from your inheritance until you’re twenty-five. Are you ready to risk being kicked around for a whole seven years?”

“Shut the fuck up, Aiden.”

“Just stating facts, Lev.” He reaches over the counter, grabs an apple and crunches a big bite. “Play smart, not strong.”

I tilt my head to the side, watching him as he chews on the apple. “You know about what happened that night, don’t you?”

“Sure do.” He appears completely unfazed, his dead eyes calculating the best way to overthrow his father’s game.

Since that incident nine years ago, there’s something wired completely wrong about Aiden.

It’s like the deity took my little cousin and sent us back a demon on his behalf.

An emotionless, psychopathic demon.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” I ask.

“I don’t have a reason to.” He lifts a shoulder. “As I was saying, smarter, not stronger. You can’t dethrone Jonathan King in a game of muscles. A game of wits, however…”

He leaves it hanging as the corner of his lips lifts. He must’ve figured out a way to protect his defences against Jonathan’s ruthless attack.

But that will probably put his queen in jeopardy. Not that Aiden cares. He was never shy about bringing out the big guns since the beginning.

“Do you have anything that ties you to that night?” he asks without ripping his gaze away from the board.

“I’m killing all ties.” Starting with that damn Clifford princess and her nosing about.

“Exactly.” He picks up another apple on his way out and throws it my way. I catch it right above my head as he says, “Play the person…”

“Not the game.” I finish.

One of the truest things Dad has ever said.





I catch a ride with Aiden for our early practice because my car needs professional help to remove the paint.

As we stop in the car park, I catch sight of honey-brown hair flying in the wind. Aiden steps out, but I remain glued to my seat, watching her easy laughter.

She’s tipping her head back, eyes twinkling with spontaneous energy. It reaches me from across the car park and stirs a dark, unhinged side of me.

I want to ruin that.

I need to ruin that.