by Rina Kent
Ruthless Empire
Royal Elite Book Six
Rina Kent
Ruthless Empire Copyright © 2020 by Rina Kent
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Also By Rina Kent
ROYAL ELITE SERIES
Cruel King
Deviant King
Steel Princess
Twisted Kingdom
Black Knight
Vicious Prince
Ruthless Empire
LIES & TRUTHS DUET
All The Lies
All The Truths
KINGDOM DUET
Rule of a Kingdom (Free Prequel)
Reign of a King
Rise of a Queen
TEAM ZERO SERIES
Lured
Crowed
Ghosted
Shadowed
Misted
Team Zero Boxset 1-3
THE RHODES SERIES
Remorse (FREE)
Ruin
HATE & LOVE DUET
He Hates Me
He Hates Me Not
To the divine, raw chaos inside you.
Author Note
Hello reader friend,
Ruthless Empire marks the end of Royal Elite Series, and while there’s still an epilogue novella for all the characters, Cole and Silver’s book is the unofficial ending. Like you, this makes me so nostalgic and emotional. Like you, I’ll never get over these explosive characters who will live inside me for eternity. I hope that you find the light despite the darkness in every book and with every couple.
Most of all, I hope you enjoy the unofficial conclusion and that Ruthless Empire bleeds in you as deep as it bled into me.
If you haven’t read my books before, you might not know this, but I write darker stories that can be upsetting and disturbing. My books and main characters aren't for the faint of heart.
To remain true to the characters, the vocabulary, grammar, and spelling of Ruthless Empire is written in British English.
Ruthless Empire can be read on its own, but for better understanding of Royal Elite world, it’s recommended to read the previous books in the series first.
Royal Elite Series:
#0 Cruel King
#1 Deviant King
#2 Steel Princess
#3 Twisted Kingdom
#4 Black Knight
#5 Vicious Prince
#6 Ruthless Empire
#7 Royal Elite Epilogue
Don’t forget to Sign up to Rina Kent’s Newsletter for news about future releases and an exclusive gift.
Blurb
She’s off limits. He has none.
There’s a girl.
Beautiful. Popular. Fake.
And my obsession.
My fall.
Probably my damnation.
Did that stop me? Do I care? No and no.
There’s a line between right and wrong. Moral and immoral.
And then there’s her.
I cross every limit with blood-coated fingers.
She says she hates me.
I say I hate her too as I trap her, own her.
Make her all mine.
Playlist
No One Knows Us – BANNERS & Carly Paige
The Black and White – The Band CAMINO
Medicine – Bring Me The Horizon
The Last Of The Real Ones – Fall Out Boy
The Sound of Silence – Disturbed
The Drug In Me Is You – Falling In Reverse
Why Are You Here – Machine Gun Kelly
Call You Mine – The Chainsmokers & Bebe Rexha
Castles – Freya Ridings
Old Wounds – PVRIS
Somebody Else – VÉRITÉ
Fall Down (Acoustic) – Zero 9:36
Maniac – Conan Gray
Empires on Fire – BANNERS
Move Me – Badflower
Time – NF
Colors – Kulick
Didn’t I – One Republic
I Wish I Never Met You – Oh Wonder
Bad For You – AKA George
Tattoos Together – Lauv
You – James Arthur & Travis Barker
Monster (Under My Bed) – Call Me Karizma
Another’s Arms – Coldplay
Natural Villain – The Man Who
You can find the complete playlist on Spotify.
Part I
Cole
Age eight
There’s freedom in chaos.
When my father used to say that, I didn’t understand it much. Ironically, that piece of information remained in my head, floating around like a fact.
My father is a businessman. There shouldn’t have been any room for chaos in his life, and yet, he thrived on it.
He knew that humans are chaotic by nature and that nature comes before nurture.
That’s what the books say. I didn’t understand them at first, but after the kidnapping, I returned a new person.
One day, I was coming home with my two friends, Aiden and Xander, and suddenly, everything turned black.
Masks were shoved over our heads, and then we were separated. I remember the darkness so well. It’s not only about seeing the colour black. It’s about breathing your own air and thinking you’ll suffocate on it. It’s about freezing until you can’t feel your toes or your face.
The darkness isn’t just a sensation. It’s a phase of being.
That’s what the therapist Mum took me to has been saying.
Were you afraid, son?
Did they hurt you in any way?
Touch you?
I answered no to all. It’s the truth. The kidnappers didn’t do any of that.
They didn’t scare me, hurt me, or touch me. They just left me…alone.
It was a silent type of chaos. You can hear it in your head, but you can’t see it with your eyes or feel it with your skin.
It’s a deep suffocation that slowly but surely takes hold of you.
I didn’t tell the therapist that. He wouldn’t understand.
No one does.
Because no one knows what happened once the kidnappers released me on a deserted road. I didn’t think about removing the bag that was strapped over my head — even though my hands were free.
I didn’t think about my parents or home or my friends.
I didn’t think about asking for help, even though that’s the most normal thing anyone would do.
I did none of that.
Instead, I stood there, pulled my hands apart and drowned in the silent chaos all alone.
It was liberating, black, and so still. Nothing ruined it or interrupted it or ended it.
Constant silent chaos.
It was maybe hours or days — I don’t remember.
Unlike Xander, I didn’t fight to find my way home. He walked for hours and days until he finally returned.
In my case, some passersby stumbled upon me and called the police, who eventually sent me home.
I remember the tears in my mother’s eyes, one of which had a purple bruise on the lid. I remember her embrace and how she held on to me sobbing, her voice echoi
ng around me like a vice.
She was glad I’d returned and that I was safe.
I didn’t hug her back.
I couldn’t hug her back.
I just stood there, and while she cried, I thought about the chaos I’d left behind and if there was a way to bring it back.
Chaos is the only thing that makes me stop and stare. It’s a pause button to my brain.
Not everyone likes chaos, though. I figured that out when my father took me to the therapist doctor because I didn’t cry.
I couldn’t cry.
All of a sudden, crying became something redundant. When I was younger, I cried while I curled in a ball in my bed.
I slammed my hands against my ears and pretended the shouting voices from outside weren’t real. They were like the bogeyman.
What young me didn’t know was that the bogeyman would never show up.
Our own house monster did, and he didn’t stay still. He didn’t keep his hands to himself.
Whenever Mum’s screams echoed in the house, I made it my mission not to go out there. If I did, I’d only worsen the situation. She’d try to protect me and that would get us both hit and with bruises.
If I had bruises, Mum would hide me and not let me play with my friends until they were gone.
I don’t know why I cried back then. It was useless anyway. None of our tears stopped him or made him pause.
We were just his things that he treated as he saw fit.
Being a successful businessman with an empire under his belt gave William Nash the name and the status. No one saw the monster behind his smiles. No one suspected his drinking habits or his firm hand that he didn’t hesitate to use.
In public, he held me in his arms and doted on us. In private, he snapped the moment we said a word.
I learnt silence before I learnt talking. Silence gives you room to think, to plot. Talking only gets you in trouble.
After I met Chaos, I stopped crying, amongst other habits like wondering why Mum and I were stuck with him, or if I’d done something wrong by being born.
Chaos taught me many things, and the most important of all is: you have to start it yourself.
You can’t wait for chaos to happen.
Dad is a master of chaos. He causes it every day. Every night.
It ends with Mum curled into a ball and placing ice to her face. She doesn’t want me to look at her when she’s like that. She does everything in her power to hide it — makeup, baking, smiles.
Lots of smiles.
She’s inside now, hiding, crying.
I’m not.
I stand at the edge of the pool, staring down at all the red.
Chaos in its truest form.
For the first time since that day I returned home, I take a deep breath. A long breath.
I can breathe and it’s not black. I can see and it’s not the darkness. I can feel and it’s not nothingness.
I don’t know how long I stand there, watching and trying to remember what he said.
You’re a monster.
He thought I was a monster.
Maybe I am.
I turn around like a robot, my body heavy and rigid, and leave. Not only the pool area, but the entire house.
Our mansion disappears from sight, but the scene in the pool keeps playing in the back of my head like a film.
The red.
The hand.
The gurgles.
And then…the silence.
You’re a monster. He said something after it, but…I can’t recall. I was too caught up in the chaos to remember.
It’s late afternoon, so the dusk is orange and bright on the horizon.
Not knowing where I’m going, I stand in the middle of the street and watch the sun’s slow disappearance behind the buildings.
Soon, it’ll be dark. Soon, it’ll be chaos.
My feet carry me to the nearby park. It’s usually empty around this time because mummies take their kids home. It’s a small park with tall trees and dark green benches similar to the one near the pool.
Maybe if I sit here and think about the park and the darkness, I won’t think about the pool.
I should’ve brought a book with me.
I’m about to go back and get one when I notice a small figure huddled by the bench at the far end of the park underneath a large tree.
She’s wearing a pink dress that has so much stuff at the bottom, making it twice her size. Her shiny, golden hair is tied in a long ponytail by a butterfly. The same butterfly is on the belt that surrounds her waist. She’s hugging a doll that looks just like her and is even wearing the same dress.
That girl always does stupid things like that.
Silver often comes over when I’m playing with Aiden and Xander, but I don’t like her.
She talks and argues a lot — like, a lot — and it ruins the silence in my head.
I should leave, but something stops me.
The tears in her eyes.
She constantly sprinkles her face in glitter as if believing she’s the dolls she plays with. Now that she’s crying, the glitter soaks in tears and fall in two rivulets down her cheeks.
Silver doesn’t cry. At least, I’ve never seen her cry. I’ve wondered how she does that, and even though I don’t like her, I’ve wanted to ask her and see if it’s because she also thinks it’s useless.
Now that I’m seeing her crying for the first time, I can’t leave. I can’t even move.
All I can do is watch the way moisture pools in her huge eyes. Their light blue colour darkens before those tears stream down her cheeks.
Her face is a mess, full with snot, glitter, and her endless tears. Her cheeks are red and her lips are rosier than usual.
Chaos.
It’s come to me again.
I don’t think about it as my legs lead me in her direction. She doesn’t sense me, or rather, she can’t. Aiden always says I move silently. It’s because I learnt to tiptoe out of my father’s reach.
But I never tell him or Xander that.
We’re not supposed to say such things. We’re proper people with proper manners and proper secrets.
Once I’m behind Silver, I pull on her ponytail. She gasps, then cries out.
That’s what I usually do to kick her out of Aiden’s house when she talks too much. She screams at us that boys suck and I should go to a bad place.
No idea why I did it just now. I don’t really want her to disappear, but I also can’t ignore the habit whenever she’s in sight.
Silver lifts her head up, and when her eyes meet mine, they widen until they nearly swallow her face.
For a second, I stare at her, unable to do anything else.
I love that look.
I want to keep that look.
But how?
“What are you doing here, Cole?” She lets the doll — which also has butterflies on its head — drop to her lap and hides her face in her tiny hands. “Go away.”
I let go of her hair, annoyed she hid that look, and sit beside her. The big skirt of her dress could fit another person between us.
“Why are you crying?” My voice is quiet since I don’t know how I should speak to her.
“What do you care?” She sniffles. “You hate me.”
So she knows about that. “What makes you think that?”
I need her to tell me why she’s crying, because if I know the reason, I can use it and maybe I’ll be able to bring back the look from earlier.
Chaos.
“I just know you do.” She manages to get out through her sniffles. “And I hate you, too.”
“If you hate me, why are you hiding from me?”
“I’m not hiding! I don’t want you to see me crying. No one sees me cry.”
I fully face her, a smile on my lips. “So I’m the first?”
“Shut up and go away!”
“No.”
“No?”
“This park is for everyone.”
“Fine. I’ll g
o.” She removes her hands from her face. It’s still full of tears and messed up glitter, but the look from earlier is gone. She’s not surprised or taken off guard.
Why isn’t she?
“If you stay, I’ll tell you a secret,” I say as she gathers her doll.
“What secret?” She doesn’t attempt to move, her eyes widening again, but it’s out of curiosity this time, not surprise like earlier.
The dusk’s sun casts a golden hue on her hair and turns the blue of her eyes lighter and brighter.
“Are you sure you want to know? This secret will keep us together for life.”
“F-for life?”
“Yes, Butterfly. For life.”
She scowls. “Why are you calling me that?”
“What?”
“Butterfly.”
“You have one on your hair.” I motion at her dress’s waist. “And on your clothes. Do you want to fly like one?”
“I do.” Her expression brightens.
“Why?”
“Because, you know, they’re so beautiful and everyone smiles when they see them. They bring happiness and light.”
“They’re cockroaches with wings.”
“Shut up. Don’t say that about them.”
“There are some butterflies who die in a day.”
A crease forms in her forehead as she folds her arms. “You’re a meanie.”
“And you’re unrealistic.”
“I’m leaving.”
“I thought you wanted to know the secret? Or are you a coward?”
“I’m not a coward.”
“So you want to know?”
She nods discreetly. Silver might talk a lot, but she doesn’t like to ask for things. She also doesn’t like to put herself out there.
I noticed it in games. Whenever we play, she asks to go last so she can observe the others. Of course, she doesn’t, because I steal the last position from her every time. Aiden and I usually win against all of them.
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