Cruel King (Royal Elite #0) by Rina Kent

“He?” I’m confused.

“That bastard inside.”

“Are you freaking kidding me? Zach is like my eldest brother.”

“One who wants to fuck you.” His words are deadly calm.

My lips part. “Are you insane?”

As if possible, his eyes darken more, rippling with tension. There’s barely an ounce of the Levi I’ve gotten used to. He’s evaporating into smoke that’s impossible to catch.

The frightening calm on his face puts me on the edge of myself.

I can deal with anger and rage, but how can I pick up a fight with deadly calm?

“Are you blind?” He’s still in that cool phase of his. “Can’t you see the way he looks at you?”

“Like a sister, you mean.”

He bursts out laughing, but it’s completely humourless. “If he looks at you like a sister, then I look at you like you’re a fucking nun.”

“God damn it, Levi! Just because you want to fuck me doesn’t mean everyone else does. Stop being a caveman.”

“A caveman, huh?”

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you today, but you’re hallucinating and overreacting.”

He slams his hand on the hood of the car near my head, and I jump at the bang.

I fight the tears of helplessness and anger blurring my vision. I hate him for making me feel like I’m at fault when I didn’t do anything wrong.

It’s so similar to Dad and I swore I’d never let anyone belittle me anymore.

“What is wrong with you?” My voice raises.

“You!” He growls. “You’re what’s wrong with me!”

He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger and squeezes hard enough that it hurts. “You are mine so stop acting otherwise.”

“I never agreed to be yours, King. You don’t own me, no one does.”

“Oh, but I do, princess.” He slaps my thighs apart and cups me through my jeans. “I own every part of you and soon, that won’t only be in theory.”

His touch awakens my body, getting it all worked up, and I loathe him for it.

“And if I refuse?” I lift my chin up.

His jaw clenches as he says in a cool, non-negotiable tone. “You might think you have a choice, but you don’t. You will bow to me.”

“I’m glad you showed your true face, but then again, this has always been you. I was just the idiot who refused to see it.” I push him away with all my might and run past him.

Tears blur my vision as I sprint into the street, wiping them with the back of my sleeves.

I should’ve probably went back inside for a ride with Dan, but I can’t face Zach after what just happened.

I wander down the road with my arms hanging limply by my sides.

The streets are crowded with people heading to local pubs and restaurants. My heart aches and I feel like an emotional mess every time a family comes into sight.

Why the hell do I have to think about my non-existent family whenever I’m down?

My phone rings, and I wipe my nose before answering. “Astrid speaking.”

“Miss Clifford,” the deputy commissioner says in a friendly tone. “I hope you’re doing well.”

“Thanks.” My muscles lock as I stand near a tree with my back to it. “Is there something new about the case?”

“Yes and no. We found new evidence in the soil that could be damaged surveillance videos. Our forensics are working to recover it.”

My heart picks up pace as I listen to the deputy explain how this can change everything about the case. He tells me that when they have suspects, I might have to identify them. After I talk to my father of course.

“What do you mean, after I talk to my father?” I ask.

There’s a pregnant pause before the deputy commissioner clears his throat. “Lord Clifford is against you identifying suspects. We were hoping you could convince him.”

This must be the reason for the argument between him and the commissioner the other day. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be eighteen in a few days and by then, Dad won’t have any guardian power over me.

But why would Dad be so against me identifying suspects? Isn’t that the point of the entire case?

My head hurts from all the drama with Levi and this new thing with Dad.

It’s like being caught in a cross-fire that’s none of my making.

I text Dan to pick me up — without Zach.

Instead of Dan’s car, a red Ferrari trails me from behind. I stop on the pavement, throwing a curious glance at it.

Aiden King.

He steps out of his car, wearing dark blue jeans and a plain grey T-shirt that complements his eye colour.

I fold my arms over my chest, not knowing how I’m supposed to act near him.

Aiden is as much of an enigma as his cousin — if not more soulless.

“May I help you?” I ask.

“You might.” He leans against the passenger door of his car, facing me with his hands in his pockets.

“How?”

“I thought you might want to know a few things.”

My brows scrunch. “Like what?”

“The words you said earlier.”

“You heard that?”

He lifts a shoulder. “It’s not my fault that you were too caught up in your little argument to notice me.”