Cruel King: A Dark New Adult Romance (Royal Elite)

If the king drops you, you can only break.

I stand in front of my half-empty canvas, staring blankly.

It’s been going this way for… hours.

The muse has been escaping me and I don’t know how to catch it — or if it’s possible to catch it in the first place.

The only painting I did today was Levi’s T-shirts. I even took my time in painting the ‘Manwhore’ all over his ‘King’ title.

Why am I the only one who gets called names in RES when he’s the actual manwhore?

Even I heard about the epic affair last year. He fucked a biology teacher in the lab for weeks until the principal walked in on them.

The said teacher is banned from all schools and she moved out of the country.

True he was a minor at the time, but why the hell was he treated as a victim?

Not to mention all the girls who always brag about sleeping with the arsehole and how good it felt. Said girls have been making my life hell because of him.

The satisfaction from sneaking into the lockers and painting all his belongings in red still hums under my skin.

At these moments, when I’m letting my true free-spirit loose, I can’t help remembering Mum. She rooted spontaneity in me and taught me to never put on a mask.

Masks will suffocate you, Star.

She should’ve thought of the possibility where Dad would have custody of me.

In his house, all I can wear is a mask. The thought of screwing up and letting him down terrifies me.

After all, he’s all I have left.

Nicole made sure to swing by the art studio earlier and announce that we’re having a family dinner tonight. According to her, it’s fine if I miss. In fact, I should miss since I’ll only make a fool out of myself.

I considered showing up just to piss her off, but the thought of Dad’s cold, disapproving stares made me change my mind.

I procrastinated enough until it’s almost nine when RES closes its doors. It’s not like I can spend the night in the art studio.

After cleaning the brushes and putting the supplies in the drawers, I close the door on my way out.

Walking down the vast halls, I stick my earbuds in and let Supremacy by Muse fill my senses.

An eerie, calm atmosphere fills the school’s walls at this time of night. The only active students indoors are the book and chess clubs. Many athletes practise outside this late.

This is the best time to enjoy RES’s massive architecture and the ancient history of the building. No snobbishness or bullying can ruin the mood.

Dan texted me earlier saying he was going to a ‘Meet Up’ with the team — which is apparently some secret hang out place for RES’s football team starters. He offered to pick me up, but I declined and told him to have fun.

Still, I can’t help the streak of jealousy and doubt.

Even though Dan used his position in the team to lure girls, he was never really that into the game. It feels like I’m losing my best friend to the stupid football team.

Besides, there’s no way all these invitations to both the team and their secret partying place are a coincidence.

It could be that I’m being over paranoid, though. I hate the idea of drifting away from my best buddy. If this is another tactic from Levi, then I’m punching his gorgeous face and totally leaving bruises.

I cross the car park on my way to the side exit. It’s the perfect place to catch a taxi without getting all tangled in the traffic in front of the main building.

The bright white light illuminates my way as I retrieve my phone.

Astrid: u’re having fun?

Daniel: Hell yeah! We’re looking at a threesome tonight.

Astrid: You’re a pig.

Daniel: One u love, bugger.

Astrid: Just so we’re clear, I’m so not having fun tonight and u need to make it up to me.

Daniel: Fiiiine! I’ll re-watch Vikings with you for the thousandth time.

Astrid: And bring me the scones your mum makes.

Daniel: Nope. Those are mine.

Astrid: No deal.

Daniel: We’ll split *angry face emoji* Stop coming after my scones, damn you.

I smile, sending him a laughing out loud Japanese emoji and tuck my phone in my back pocket.

If sacrificing tonight means stealing some of Aunt Nora’s scones from Dan, then I’m game. I always tease him, saying we’re only friends because of his mum’s scones.

I’m heading towards the exit when the car park goes pitch black. I stiffen, stopping in my place.

I hit stop on the music and hurry towards where I remember the outside gate.

My hands turn clammy and my breathing hitches so loud, I can’t hear my footsteps or anything in my surroundings.

Dammit. The lights usually stay on until later.

My hand clamps around the straps of my backpack until my nails dig into my palms.

I’d start running, but my limbs are too shaky for that.

It’s true what they say about losing one of your senses. When you can’t see, everything else becomes heightened.

My ears pick up on the slight rustle of the wind against the pine trees surrounding the school. Or at least, I hope the rustle is because of the trees.

My nostrils fill with the scent of petrol from cars and pine as well as my own scent — which is so similar to fear.

The air on my skin feels like razor-sharp objects trying to dig their way inside. No matter how much I swallow, I can’t chase away the taste of acid from the back of my throat.

This is becoming terrifyingly similar to what happened that night.

Both nights actually.

Everything started with darkness.

You can do this, Astrid. You can totally do this.

My pep talk doesn’t work. The whooshing of my pulse doesn’t come down and black fills my vision.

A tall, sombre figure blocks my path. I scream, but the sound is drowned with a strong hand blocking my mouth.

My body freezes as I’m pulled back, feet dragging on the concrete with a sickening noise.

Am I… being kidnapped?

The thought shakes me out of my stupor. I thrash against my capturer’s hold, scratching and kicking anywhere I could.

My back is slammed against something hard. Air knocks out of my lungs, and I gasp for non-existent breath.

A claustrophobic feeling creeps up my spine, paralysing me. My entire existence is filled with the tall, broad figure looming over me like a dooming grim reaper.

I know fear.

I lived it. Twice.

During Mum’s accident and my hit-and-run. However, fear isn’t a feeling someone can get used to. It’s not a feeling that gets better with time.

If anything, it gets worse.

Now that I’ve seen fear’s face, it keeps changing so every experience is more horrific than the previous one.

Tremors shoot down my limbs and I’m shaking like a leaf during a downpour.

“P-please… please…” I mumble against the hand holding me in place.

I should know by now that begging doesn’t save you. Begging can make those with sick minds want to torture you some more.

But I have nothing else.

Even if I fight, my captor is obviously way stronger than me.

He stopped my earlier struggles with a mere hand. He can tear me from limb to limb if he chooses to.

His free hand glues against my chest.

My eyes screw shut as tears burn behind my lids.

Oh, God.

Please no.

Please.

Something inside me snaps and any reluctance I had about fighting back disappears. I punch and kick everywhere and nowhere all at once.

I barely hit anything, but I don’t stop. I’m crying and punching and kicking like a manic.

He fists my shirt and my screams turn crazier, even though they’re blocked by his hand.

He pulls me forward. I trip, but I catch myself in the last second before falling to my face.

Both hands disappear from my chest and my mouth.

Before I can form any thoughts about what just happened, blinding light goes on in the car park.

I’m standing near the exit with my back facing the school.

Harsh, shallow breaths leave my mouth as my heart thumps against my ribcage.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

I stare around me, spooked, half-expecting a monster to lunge at me from the shadows.

When I look down, I make out the piece of paper glued to my school jacket.

I snatch it with shaky fingers and read the typed words.

Stay away or pay.