Deviant King (Royal Elite #1) by Rina Kent

Who Aunt and Uncle raised me to be.

Every day is a battle in this war Aiden created.

Sometimes, I get weak and hide in the library or cry by myself in the bathroom.

However, I never show weakness in front of him.

Not when I’m almost sure he gets off on it.

He’s usually sitting there, relaxed, watching intently as his minions turn my life into hell.

Only there’s nothing relaxed about his expression. I swear if demons can spill from someone’s eyes, they’d be crowding his space.

When he plays football or when he’s in class, Aiden is every bit the golden boy.

Excellent grades.

Elites’ ace striker.

Contagious smile.

But with me?

Aiden King is one dark fucker.

He only gives me murderous glares as if my mere existence offends him. As if I’m the reason for the world’s endless wars and famine.

That arsehole ruined my fresh start in this school.

My dream.

My new page.

I hate him.

Kim releases me and runs out of the classroom. Xander starts after her with wide strides.

I attempt to follow, but Silver blocks my way with a plastic smile. “She doesn’t need a maid, Frozen.”

“Get out of my way,” I grind out. When she doesn’t move, I push her and throw over my shoulder to no one in particular. “Oh, and if you have to bring someone down to feel so good about yourselves, then I feel sorry for you.”

I don’t wait for a reply as I run down the hallway.

It’s a trip to the back garden where Kim usually hides — or finds peace, as she calls it.

After a minute of full-speed running, my heart’s palpitations skyrocket into an irregular rhythm.

I stop at the corner of the third tower to catch my breath. My palm clutches my heart as sweat breaks over my brows.

Breathe in. Blow out.

Inhale. Exhale.

In.

Out.

My nails dig into my chest over RES’s logo as I exit the building and head to the back garden.

With every step I take into the cut grass, a weight crushes my chest. My breathing becomes irregular, too.

A sliver of panic lodges deep within. My hands tingle and that familiar urge to scrub them clean takes over my senses.

I can’t think past the sensation that my hands are dirty. They need to be scrubbed clean.

The pain in my chest is like tiny needles, tirelessly prickling my heart, even when I walk as slow as possible.

My heart condition can’t relapse.

It simply can’t.

Being able to run again didn’t come easily after the surgery. There were Nazi-style rehabilitations and a complete change in my lifestyle.

The nightmare can’t be back.

I need to run.

If I don’t purge my energy and stress into running, I’ll go crazy.

Kim and Xander’s silhouettes appear in the small cabin house on the outskirts of the garden. She’s crying and yelling, but I’m not close enough to hear what she’s saying.

That and my ears are buzzing so loud, I can barely hear my own breathing.

This is bad.

I blink twice and breathe through my nose then my mouth.

Xander pushes into Kim, imprisoning her against the edge of the cabin. Her back hits the wooden pole and her eyes widen.

It could be because I’m disoriented.

It could be that this is the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Or it simply could be that I’ve finally had enough.

I’m done with these arseholes ruining mine and Kim’s life.

I pull out my phone and record a video. Xander grips her by the hips pulling her into him. Although I want to cut off his dick for putting his hand on my best friend, I know that will bring nothing. The video, however, will.

I can see Xander Knight’s fall in sight. Either he leaves Kim alone or I’ll blackmail him with sexual harassment. RES might be under his father’s command, but the press isn’t.

They’d be delighted to hear how sick and entitled a minister’s son actually is.

I’m in the mood to ruin his future like he’s been actively ruining her life.

Once I have enough footage of him manhandling her, I stop the video and smile in triumph. Even my heart problem fades away.

I start towards the cabin to stop Xander.

A shadow blocks my way.

I cease to breathe when I stare up at my nightmare.





Chapter Three





Aiden hates me.

He loathes me.

I can imagine him playing my death in the back of his mind.

Why?

I don’t know and I never asked.

Because I have a rule: Never try to understand bullies.

They’re entitled arseholes who use their power to humiliate others, what’s there to understand about them?

But as I stare up at Aiden’s punishing eyes, my earlier thoughts shrink behind my trembling, defective heart.

He scares me.

Call it instinct or an intuition, but something terrifying lurks behind that easy-going smile and football star image.

“What did you just do?” His voice is calm and quiet with a slight huskiness.

An outsider would find it welcoming, but I know it’s one of his multiple façades.

The voice the devil would use to lure his victims.

I lift up my chin, even though my hand clutching the phone trembles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”