Ruthless Empire (Royal Elite #6) by Rina Kent

The moment I’m in front of Mum’s flat, I just stand there. My limbs freeze and it’s like someone has cast a spell on me. I can’t move.

Oh, God.

Maybe I should’ve told Papa before he went out to work this morning. Maybe I should’ve had Derek come up with me.

I don’t want to go in there alone.

I…I’m scared.

My heart thrums loud in my chest and a shiver shoots up my spine, engulfing me whole.

Go, Silver.

You have to go.

My fingers are stiff and cold as I hit the password to her flat. The sound of the lock clicking open echoes in the silence of the hall like doom. I flinch, even when I try to keep my composure.

My hand strangles the strap of my bag as I tiptoe inside.

The first thing I see is black.

It’s so dark, I can’t make out my own hands.

Then the smell of something rotten follows. Something like meat and alcohol.

A sob tears from my throat as I run inside. “Mum! Mum!”

I trip over a table and my foot stings. I throw my bag down and continue hobbling towards her bedroom. I’ve learnt the way by heart and can reach it even in the dark.

My fingers tremble, hovering over the light switch. What if I find her on the ground like the other time? What if I’m too late? What if —

I hit the button and freeze in place.

Mum sits in front of her console, her blonde hair falling on either side of her face and stopping a little under her neck, dishevelled and all over the place.

Her cobalt blue eyes are bloodshot and lost in the mirror. Streaks of mascara mark her cheeks, and she holds a red lipstick in her hand that matches the colour on her lips.

Her other hand clutches a half-full glass of red wine. Her satin nightgown is creased and the robe is tied wrong around her waist, but it doesn’t hide her model body or her exotic beauty that everyone in the media talks about.

The model politician. Beauty can be smart.

That’s Mum in their eyes. A successful, beautiful woman who can debate in the parliament for days. But they don’t see the woman I see. They don’t witness her like this, lost somewhere no one can find her.

“Mum…” I approach her slowly, a tear sliding down my cheek.

Her head turns in my direction like a robot. For seconds, she stares at me as if I’m a stranger, as if she’s seeing me for the first time in her life. Then slowly, too slowly, her lips pull up in a warm smile.

“Babydoll, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“You haven’t answered my calls since last night.” My voice breaks at the end as I wrap my arms around her neck in a tight embrace. “Why didn’t you answer?”

“My battery died. I forgot to charge it.” She pats my back.

“I was so worried, Mum.” I sniffle into her neck, stopping myself from telling her I didn’t sleep a wink last night. If I hadn’t known Papa had an important meeting this morning, I would’ve made him drive me to her in the middle of the night.

“I’m okay.” She pulls away from me and scowls. “Why are you crying, Silver? Ladies don’t cry in front of other people.”

“Mum…let me tell Papa so he can help you —”

“We spoke of this before,” she cuts me off, her tone turning firm like she’s in a debate. “Sebastian has no involvement in my life anymore. If you tell him anything about me, I’ll consider it a betrayal.”

“But, Mum…”

“He already thinks that I’m on the wrong side of the party and he’s on the right one. Not only has he decided I’m no longer good enough for him, but he also took you away from me, my beautiful baby girl.”

“I’m here, Mum. Do you…do you want me to move in with you?”

“Absolutely not. That will seem as if I’m asking for pity after I announced I want to focus on my career.”

I wish Mum would stop thinking about the media, the press, and her friends when she makes her decisions. I wish she’d look in the mirror — really look in the mirror — and base those decisions on not only her reflection, but also the woman on the inside.

I wish she’d stop trying to prove herself to her dead father who pushed her to be a perfectionist, or to my dead grandparents from Papa’s side who criticised her for everything. They wanted their prodigal son to marry an aristocrat’s daughter, so when he married Mum, they kind of made her life hell as revenge. Nothing was good enough in their eyes. So she took it out on Papa. It was a vicious cycle.

But I learnt to stop wishing for things when it comes to my mum. She’ll only do what she thinks is good for her image and her career.

That’s why she’s been making me slowly but surely change to fit that image.

“Okay, happy thoughts.” She shows me her red lipstick. “This one is amazing. Let me try it on you.”

“Mum —”

“Stay still.” She places her glass of wine on the counter and paints my lips, then looks at me with awe. “Look at you growing into a wonderful young lady. You’re my pride, Silver. It’s because of you that I survive this rotten, man-infested world.”

“Then please answer my calls next time.” I’m still high off the adrenaline, slightly trembling from thinking I’d lost her.

“I will. Now, happy thoughts.” She smiles, and it’s radiant. It’s the reason her snobbish friends are jealous of her – because she’s the most beautiful amongst them all. She’s the one who attracts attention and gets invited to radio and talk shows.