Cruel King (Royal Elite #0) by Rina Kent

“Oh. Shit.” Dan exclaims with astonishment. “Does this make me the maid of honour?”

I laugh, the sound is carefree and happy. “Sure does, bug.”

Dad walks out the front door, wearing a proud smile. Jonathan stands by his side, staring between his son and his nephew.

Sometimes, I think he wants Aiden to be more like Levi. At other times, it seems the exact opposite.

I wouldn’t call Dad and Jonathan friends, but they tolerate each other enough to visit one another’s homes when we invite them.

“I’m happy,” I whisper to Levi. “Thank you for existing, my king.”

He smiles. “Thank you for being mine, princess.”

And then, he’s kissing me again.





Bonus Scene





Right before the wedding



* * *



Astrid





* * *



My body nearly shuts down from exhaustion as I push the flat’s door open.

I’ve spent the entire day with the wedding planner, the flowers’ planner, and all the planners.

Seriously, if I knew a wedding would be this hard, I would’ve opted to have a small ceremony. Levi insisted that he wanted our wedding blasted all over the world so everyone knows I’m his — typical Levi.

Dad also wants a suitable wedding for his only daughter. I couldn’t just say no to that.

It’s too late to turn around now. There’s still only a week until the big day. Let's hope I don’t collapse before then.

Don’t get me wrong, Levi does help. He’s even more enthusiastic about this planning charade than me. However, I’m the one who has to go through endless dress fittings and whatnots. As Mrs Hudson, our planner, keeps saying, ‘the wedding is all about the bride’.

What if this particular bride doesn’t like the spotlight? Well, there’s nothing to do about it.

I’m stuck.

My phone pings. I shuffle my backpack over one shoulder and some groceries and Mrs Hudson’s brochures to retrieve my phone.

A smile breaks on my lips. It’s a text from my best friend.

Daniel: I rock the maid of honour role. Guess who’s going to steal your spotlight, bugger?

He attached the picture we took at the fitting room yesterday. I’m in my wedding dress and he’s in a dashing black tuxedo. He has a smug look all over his face as he fingers his bowtie and wraps his other arm around my shoulder.

God. He’s such a dork.

But seriously, if Dan wasn’t there for me this entire time, I would’ve gone bonkers.

I type with one hand, still shuffling too many stuff.

Astrid: You’re welcome to steal the spotlight any time, bug.

Daniel: You can’t take that back. I’m holding you to it, screenshot and everything.

I’m about to reply when a deep voice cuts through the silence of the house.

“Princess?”

I quickly turn off the phone and slide it into my bag. I don’t want Levi to see the wedding dress yet, no matter how much he pestered me.

It’s not because of that stupid superstition. It’s about something I’ve seen in Mrs Hudson’s collection.

She has a photo album where she captures shots of the grooms when the brides walks towards them. Their expressions are often filled with awe, love, and utter happiness.

I want to see that look on Levi’s face on the wedding day. Hell, this might be the only reason why I’m willingly continuing this entire planning nightmare.

That’s why he needs to see the dress for the first time next week.

I drop my backpack on the leather sofa and abandon the brochures on the counter.

“Where are you?” I ask, tiptoeing down the hallway.

Although we’ve been practically living together for the past year or so, I’ve been spending more time with Dad lately. It’s like I’m telling him goodbye before I move out for good.

Of course, Levi hasn’t been thrilled about that idea. He keeps sending me texts about his empty bed, empty heart, and empty soul.

I’d laugh so hard at those.

Today, I decided to stay the night for the last time until the wedding.

“In here,” he calls, the sound coming from the last room down the hall.

The room Levi has turned into my art studio as soon as he got the flat. Actually, the first thing he chose in this house is the location of my art studio.

But what is he doing there now?

Oh, gosh. Please don’t tell me he saw the painting. He’s not supposed to lay eyes on it until the wedding night.

It’s supposed to be a gift.

I jog down the hall and push the door open. My feet come to a screeching halt as soon as I’m inside.

Levi lies on the sofa, cradling his head. His massive body dwarfs the space.

Oh, and he’s naked.

Completely fucking naked.

For a moment, I’m speechless. My greedy eyes take in his sculpted abs, his muscular thighs, and that delicious V that leads to his semi-erect cock.

I shake myself out of my stupor and focus on his face; his tousled blond hair, his arrogant smirk, and his pale blue eyes.

Damn those blue, blue eyes.

“What are you doing?” I meant to interrogate him, but it comes out in a whisper, barely audible.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He grins, eyes shining. “I’m modelling for you.”