Deviant King: Royal Elite Book One

by Kent, Rina

  Chapter Thirteen

  The time has come to do something about it.

  The car ride has been silent since Aiden said those words.

  I’m at a loss for words.

  Trying to find a crack in Aiden’s wall is like hitting thick steel; it’s hard, painful, and maddening.

  As the car cuts the distance with high speed, a crazy idea barges into my head.

  Maybe I’ve been using the wrong method to find that crack. Not only does strength have the opposite effect on Aiden, but he’s also getting the upper hand whenever I display it.

  If I try to be logical and push all my prejudice aside, the crack might be as simple as… me.

  Aiden King never shows interest in anyone except for his horsemen and football.

  Unlike Xander and Ronan, he doesn’t have girls hanging onto his arm — and it’s not from the lack of trying. He seems to tune girls out — aside from Silver. I don’t know what’s his story with her, but she’s the only girl that gets to ride in his Ferrari.

  What? It’s not my fault who I see when Kim and I go home.

  Anyway, even with Silver, he usually has a nonchalant behaviour and his infuriating poker face.

  The fact that he’s directing all his energy towards me is disturbing, but if I see past the surface and my discomfort, his interest in me might as well be the only chip in his armour that he allows the world — or at least me — to see.

  I can use that.

  I can pretend to be his toy so I could disarm and then crush him.

  Now, I have to decide if I’m strong enough to play his games in order to escape him.

  Considering how easily he figures out when I manipulate him, it’d be nearly impossible to fool him.

  It’s a challenge to ride with him in the same car let alone to fake I have a genuine interest in him.

  But then again, one can’t play with the devil in his hell and pray not to burn.

  Aiden is a deviant. A dangerous deviant.

  And deep down? I do have some interest in the way he’s wired. If he was in one of the Chinese war books I love, Aiden would be the tactic no general can predict.

  I want to know why he’s been keeping his distance for two years, letting his minions treat me like shit, but now decides he’ll get close.

  I feel like I’ll never find peace unless I unveil the truth.

  You’re still avoiding the truth about your parents. Where’s your peace in that, hypocrite?

  The car rolls to a stop in front of an antique-looking coffee shop. I blink, coming out of my haze.

  I glance at the secluded location. Although it has an ancient feel, the coffee shop isn’t on the main street. Only a few houses are nearby. This isn’t a poor neighbourhood per se, but it isn’t high end either.

  “Why have we stopped here?” I face Aiden, but he’s already out of the car. He reaches my side and opens the door.

  I gawk at him.

  Did he just open the door for me?

  Do devils do that?

  Wait. Maybe he has a storage house around the corner to which he lures his victims and kills them in cold blood before he dissolves them with acid.

  “Are you going to sit there all day?” He raises an eyebrow. “Would you rather I carry you inside, sweetheart?”

  “We have school.”

  “If you checked the school’s website, you would’ve seen the notice that Mr Bently will be absent today.”

  I fish for my phone in my jacket’s pocket. Sure enough, on the students’ portal, it’s announced that our first class is cancelled.

  I stare up at him. “You tricked me.”

  “Hmm, did I?”

  “You knew we don’t have class, but you ushered me out as if we’d be late.”

  “We were going to be late.”

  “For what?”

  “You didn’t have breakfast so I’m buying you.”

  “What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?”

  His poker face slips and the chilling, cold void takes its place. “I could’ve kidnapped you to a place where no one would find you. I’m being nice here, Frozen. I’m giving you a choice to have breakfast with me in a place full of people so you’re more comfortable.”

  I finger the strap of my backpack with sweaty fingers. Although fear is locking my shoulder blades, I can now see past it to what Aiden is actually saying.

  Kidnapping me is his first choice and nature. He wants to rob me of my will, he wants the thrill of seeing me at his mercy.

  However, he’s forcing himself to make me comfortable.

  Why?

  I know for certain that he doesn’t care about the moral line or my comfort.

  This must be another game.

  Another mindfuck.

  “You realise that this isn’t a choice, right?” I ask.

  “Hmm. How so?”

  “A choice is supposed to lead in different directions. Yours only leads back to you.”

  A wolfish grin breaks on his stupidly handsome face. “It only leads back to me, huh?”

  God. His way of repeating my words is infuriating and makes me want to slap him.

  I swallow the urge down because now, I realise it’s his way to get a rise out of me.

  “You’re manipulating me, Aiden.” I lift my chin. “I don’t like it when people manipulate me.”

  “I’m manipulating you, huh?” He leans over, blocking the hint of the sun and the entire world with his frame. His voice drops to a whisper. “How does it feel to be manipulated, sweetheart?”

  I swallow against the warmth rising up my throat. He can do it a thousand times, and I still wouldn’t get used to being this close to him.

  His fresh scent.

  His tousled jet black hair.

  The small mole at the corner of his eye.

  I find myself staring at that longer than I like to admit.

  Winning a staring competition with Aiden has always been impossible. The bottom of my stomach always does this stupid shit as if something is slicing, cutting, and ripping it open from the inside.

  Hate. This must be how extreme hate feels like.

  It consumes and destroys you from the inside like a stage five cancer.

  He pulls back as fast as he leaned down. I release a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

  “Kidnapping or breakfast in a coffee shop.” He deadpans. “What’s your move?”

  No. It’s his move. Even when he provides options, he makes sure the outcome works in his favour.

  This level of cunning can belong to the criminally insane, but Aiden isn’t just insane. He’s highly intelligent and he knows it.

  Hell, he’s so assertive about it that it’s disturbing.

  If he weren’t wealthy and young, what type of monster would he be?

  Probably the century’s most notorious serial killer.

  I hold the backpack to my chest like a shield and step out of the car. If I’m starting my dance with the devil, I might as well do it now.

  Aiden offers me his golden boy smile as he locks his car.

  I hate that smile.

  It’s the fake one he gives to everyone else. I already had a glimpse of what he truly is, so he might as well stop the pretence around me.

  Judging from the granite walls and the ancient feel the outside gives, I expected the coffee shop to be antique.

  My expectations are smashed when we step inside.

  The walls are covered in a pastel green wallpaper and the tables are in a smooth brownish colour. A few black and white motivational quotes hang from the ceilings.

  The decor is soothing and the atmosphere is… cosy, to say the least.

  A few patrons are scattered about, but Aiden doesn’t take any of the available tables. He places a hand at the small of my back. A weird awareness coils beneath my skin, and I flinch at the contact.

  He guides me up hidden stairs with pastel green and white steps. There’s only a man facing the huge glass window.


  He appears in his mid-forties, wears a crisp white shirt and reads from a newspaper while sipping from his coffee.

  Aiden leads me to one of the tables with a cushion.

  I slide inside, expecting Aiden to sit across from me.

  And surprise, he doesn’t meet expectations.

  He plants himself right beside me. The distance between us is so minuscule, I can feel his body heat and smell his clean, toxic scent.

  Damn his scent.

  I purse my lips against the protest itching to be set free. If I tell him to change positions, he’ll do the exact opposite. Hell, he’ll go above and beyond to make my skin crawl.

  He places his elbow on the table and leans his head against his palm as he watches me with a smirk.

  “What?” I snap.

  “You’re so expressive, it’s adorable.”

  “And you’re not.”

  “I can live with not being adorable.”

  “I meant you’re not expressive. The star image doesn’t count. I know it’s a mask.”

  “You know it’s a mask, huh?”

  “Would you stop repeating what I say?”

  “Do you know how euphoric it feels to get under your skin, Frozen?”

  “How the hell would I know that?”

  “Exactly.” He chuckles, reaching a hand to pinch my cheek. “You should see how red these get. Do I affect you that much?”

  I wiggle away from his touch. “More like you infuriate me.”

  “You can lie to me all you want, sweetheart. But do you think it’s a good idea to lie to yourself?”

  “Maybe we all lie to ourselves.” I mirror his gesture and lean on my palm. It’s a way to disarm him, make him believe that he’s getting to me. “You, too, have a mask all the time.”

  “A mask, huh?”

  “What? You’ll deny that you show the world a calculated image of who you want them to believe you are?”

  “It comes with the family name.” He winks. “I can’t be a sobbing, emotional mess if I’m going to be a leader.”

  I focus on him. Like really focus on him. Not the arsehole Aiden, the school’s king, or Elites’ ace striker, but the other Aiden. The Aiden King. Heir to King Enterprises.

  If he’s so mature at this age and knows exactly how to behave and what to do for his leadership position, he must’ve had a lot of pressure growing up.

  Sociopaths are made.

  My spine jerks at that idea.

  Was he… abused? Not that it excuses what he did — and continues to do — to me, but that could put some pieces of the puzzle together.

  I take a sip from the water. “Was your father hard on you?”

  “I wasn’t abused by either of my parents if that’s what you’re thinking about.”

  Damn. I wasn’t smooth enough in bringing out my assumptions.

  There’s no helping it now that it’s out in the open.

  “If it wasn’t your father, then were you abused by someone else?”

  He stares at me. Hard. The energy radiating off him becomes foggy and suffocating.

  If his eyes were his hands, he would’ve choked the life out of me by now.

  A waitress stands at our table, interrupting the moment.

  “Mineral water, please,” I say.

  “Boiled eggs. Bacon. Large protein shake.” Aiden lists without looking at the menu. “And a vegetarian breakfast menu with zero fatty acids.”

  My lips part. I was going to ask if they have any non-fatty acid breakfast menus since most restaurants don’t.

  The waitress scribbles our order, nods, and leaves.

  I face Aiden. “How did you know that I only eat that type of food?”

  “Your aunt was packing a vegetarian lunch and there was a special brand of biscuits with no fatty acid on your breakfast table.” He glances at me. “Besides, you only eat your lunchboxes at school.”

  “You’ve been watching me at school?”

  He ignores my question and tilts his head. “Why don’t you ask the cafeteria for your type of food?”

  I shrug. “I don’t like eating at the cafeteria.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s where the bullying gets worse.”

  He hums as if he never thought about that.

  Dickhead.

  My fingers play with the straws on the table. “Why did you really bring me here, Aiden?”

  He grins. “I told you. Breakfast.”

  “You want me to believe that you don’t have an ulterior motive?”

  “I only want to feed you.” He pinches my right cheek. “Stop overthinking.”

  I pull away from his touch. “It’s kind of hard when you were my bully for years.”

  If he thinks I’ll ignore the elephant in the room, then he has another thing coming.

  “I did nothing to you, Frozen.”

  “Do you seriously believe that?”

  “Believe what?”

  “That you did nothing!” My voice raises. “You signed my death certificate that first day. You must’ve known they’d target me.”

  “And why would I know that?”

  “The entire freaking school bows down to you. Did you honestly think they’d leave me in peace after you so eloquently announced that you’d destroy me?”

  He grins with that sadistic edge. “It’s not my fault I’m so loved.”

  “You’re not even sorry for it, are you?”

  “No.”

  Something squeezes in my chest. I don’t know why I thought he’d show a bit of remorse.

  There’s no remorse in an unfeeling monster.

  I stand and throw the napkin at his chest. “Thank you for the clarifications. Have a shitty day.”

  He clutches my wrist and pulls me down so fast, so hard, I yelp as I fall back down on something warm.

  His lap.

  I’m sitting on his lap.

  My heartbeat picks up at being this close. So close that we breathe the same air. So close that I feel every ripple in his strong, hard thighs underneath me. So close that I can almost hear the pulse in my ears.

  His face is a few inches away from mine that our noses nearly touch. His arm wraps around my waist in a steely, almost painful hold, and his eyes zero in on my lips as he speaks, “Did I say you can leave?”

  It takes everything in me to ignore his proximity. I concentrate on his face despite the urge to look at his lips.

  “I’m trying to understand, Aiden, I really am, but it’s impossible. You made my life hell for two years and now you want to get close to me without as much as an apology? Do you think I’ll forget about all that torment just because of your majesty’s presence?”

  He continues feasting on my lips with his gaze. “Do you think you have a choice, sweetheart?”

  “Every time I look at you, I remember when I was locked in the showers for five hours until Kim found me. I remember someone stealing my track clothes and feigning a headache to not practice that day. I remember being tripped in the cafeteria the first day I stepped in there and having pasta and juice all over my clothes, face, and hair. I remember being called a Teacher Slut and accused of sleeping with them. I remember being hated for being me!”

  I’m panting after my outburst, my heart almost leaping out of my throat. I never thought there’d be a day I’d give Aiden a piece of my mind.

  “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t even miss a beat.

  “You don’t mean that.”

  His nonchalant, fake apology hurts more than the lack of it.

  “You said you wanted an apology, not that I should mean it. Besides…” His fingers skim down my throat and to my pulse point before he wraps his hand around my neck. The gesture is gentle, almost caring if it weren’t for the immediate danger of suffocation like the other time. “You wronged me first.”

  “What?”

  The waitress returns with our orders. She stands a small distance away, watching us with unfazed attention. I scramble away from Aiden’s lap, my cheeks fl
aring.

  Aiden lets me go with a smirk.

  For God’s sake, can’t he see we’re in our school uniforms? There’s a rule somewhere about not sullying RES’s top-notch reputation.

  After the waitress leaves, I dig into the low carb muffins and tomato omelette.

  I’ve been starving since the morning. If he’s buying, I’m eating. Food has nothing to do with my animosity with the devil.

  Said devil doesn’t touch his food and watches me silently like a creep.

  I lift my head and give him a questioning look.

  He removes his jacket, places it on the edge of the chair and rolls the cuffs of his shirt to near his elbows, revealing strong veiny arms and… tattoos.

  He has tattoos at the underside of his forearm.

  It’s a simple two black arrows pointing in opposing directions. I lean closer to watch the direction of the tattoos.

  That’s when I notice it.

  Near his elbow, there’s a faded scar at which one of the arrows points.

  His movements are meticulous as he cuts his eggs and takes a bite.

  I motion at the tattoo. “Is there a meaning?”

  His dark eyes meet mine and I’m transfixed by their depth. It’s like someone pushed him into an impenetrable fog and he’s unable to get out. “Some scars are better left hidden.”

  “Like what?” I ask slowly.

  “Like your scar. You hide it so well, don’t you, Frozen?”

  I stab my omelette and cut eye contact.

  “Ah. So you like talking about me, but when the subject turns to little miss Frozen, it becomes a red line. Do you realise how double standard that is?”

  “Stop twisting everything to fit you.”

  “The answer is no.”

  “Do you get off on it?”

  “On what?”

  “On being this infuriatingly in control.”

  “Perhaps.”

  My lips twist. “Has there ever been something out of your control before?”

  “Twice.” He hums. “And you’re the third.”

  I pause drinking from my orange juice, my voice slow. “How?”

  “Be mine.”

  I choke on my juice, droplets splattering from my nose and all over the table.

  Aiden chuckles, offering me a napkin. “Jesus. I didn’t ask for your firstborn.”

  “This is worse.” I stare at him as I wipe the mess on my face. “You’re not serious, are you?”