Twisted Kingdom: A Dark New Adult Romance (Royal Elite Book 3)

Home.

Such a strange word.

Here I am again. In Birmingham. At home.

Knox has already hopped out of the car as if his arse was on fire.

The distance from the front gate to the mansion is long. A stylish garden extends as far as the sight goes, and it’s filled with trees cut into different geometrical shapes.

A tremor shoots through my limbs as Dad and I stand in front of the mansion’s grand gate.

Two lion statues decorate the entrance, just like in my fragmented memories.

I don’t think I ever realised just how big our mansion was when I was younger. I remember the wires, the private lake, and the long runs Dad and I took within the perimeters of our property.

Our house is larger than the King’s mansion. Perhaps it’s because they’re in London while we’re far away from the city, in Birmingham.

The cloudy sky casts a gloomy shroud over the two towers standing tall on the eastern side.

A shudder runs through me at the sight, clawing at my ribcage like a prisoner needing release. There’s something about those towers, but what?

“Welcome home, princess.”

I rip my gaze from the architectural masterpiece to stare at my father. He watches me with pride and accomplishment like he wanted to bring me back here all along.

“I… I thought the whole house was burned down in the fire.”

“It was.” Nostalgia covers his gaze before it soon disappears. “It wasn’t easy, but we renovated it to make it look like before.”

“I see.”

It’s all too… surreal.

If it becomes red and foggy right now, I would know for sure it’s a dream. Maybe I’m still in Dr Khan’s office, reliving the memory of my first meeting with Aiden.

Maybe this morning never happened. Maybe Aiden isn’t engaged to Silver.

I inwardly shake my head. I won’t think about him. I won’t think about him…

Dad takes my hand and interlaces it with his arm. “Let’s go inside. You must be tired.”

My feet move of their own volition as we step into the foyer.

Marble.

That’s the first thought that jumps to mind. Marble flooring, marble stairs, and even a marble lion statue.

Wait. Is that a thing?

A middle-aged man — who resembles Robert De Niro — and two women dressed in maids outfits bow upon our entry.

I nod back awkwardly. It’s so weird to have people bow like we’re royalty. Though, from what I’ve learnt about Steel Corporation, Dad might as well be considered nobility in Birmingham.

He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by the staff. He acknowledges them and moves along.

I’m like a lost orphan walking by his side. With my semi-wet clothes and dishevelled hair, I also look the part.

Dad and I stride into the enormous lounge area with its vaulted, golden ceilings and dazzling light. Two large lion statues decorate the sweeping marble stairs. Two tall Chinese warriors paintings stand on either side of the stairs in perfect symmetry.

Now I know where my love for old Chinese war books and philosophers comes from.

Several French windows are strategically lined throughout the lounge area, allowing a peek into the garden.

It’s exactly like in my vision.

Maybe this is a vision, too. Maybe I’m hallucinating, and my father isn’t alive.

That thought brings a bitter, sticky taste to the back of my throat. I squeeze his hand in mine to make sure this isn’t a mind trick.

No. Dad is here.

He came back for me.

“There you are.”

My attention snaps to my right. A middle-aged man comes down the stairs with a polite smile on his face.

He’s dressed in a three-piece, striped suit, appearing fit and well-built for a man his age. His pale blue eyes resemble a snow tiger and, although he doesn’t appear old, his hair is peppered with white strands.

Wait.

There’s something familiar about him.

I take a closer look at the man and my eyes widen. “You.”

“Told you she’d recognise you.” Knox crashes into the man from behind, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, grinning with mischief. “Pay up the hundred, Agnus.”

“Do you recognise me?” The man — Agnus — asks without paying attention to Knox.

I nod slowly. “You were always at that coffee shop.”

“Bingo!” Knox smirks, extending his palm. “My one hundred. Any day now.”

“For the record, you made the bet. I never agreed.” Agnus reaches into his pocket and retrieves his wallet. Knox snatches the bills and grins while counting the money.

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” My gaze bounces between the three of them.

“This is Agnus,” Dad says. “He’s my right-hand, adviser, and best friend. He’s been taking care of the company and the estate while I was unable to.”

“You don’t remember me, Elsa, but I was your favourite uncle when you were younger.”

“Uncle Reg was my favourite.” The words fall from my lips in a haunted whisper.

Agnus’s face turns blank. Knox tenses so visibly, he nearly rips the money with his fingers.

Dad’s expression remains unreadable. “Reginald is no more, princess.”

“He was my twin brother.” Agnus smiles with ease considering the situation. “You could never tell us apart.”

I do a double-take on Agnus’ face. He does have slightly bulging eyes, but they’re not as prominent as the ones I had in my nightmare about Uncle Reginald. Besides, Agnus is handsome in a silver fox kind of way. I don’t remember Uncle Reg ever being handsome.

“How did he die?” I ask.

“The Great Birmingham fire.” Knox shoves the money in his pocket. “Like a roasted pig.”

“Knox,” Dad scolds. “Go to your room.”

“Nah.” Knox throws his weight on the sofa, flings one of his legs over the other and wraps his hand around the sofa’s back. “Hey, T. You owe me a fifty. Elsa isn’t a bitch as you predicted she would be.”

A tiny girl saunters inside with earbuds shoved in her ears. She has such petite features, they’re adorable. Her midnight-black hair falls straight to her shoulders; her eyes are huge and black — or are they dark-brown? Her lips remind me of a rosebud, and her nose is tiny like the rest of her face.

Despite the cuteness of her overall appearance, like a Snow White of sorts, everything else screams she doesn’t like it. For one, she’s wearing dark purple lipstick and black eyeshadow that give her doe eyes a witchy appearance. She also has skull earrings.

Even her stockings have skulls on them. Other than that, she’s wearing denim shorts, a black leather jacket, and a crop top that reveals her pale belly.

I pause to read the red writing on her white top.

Sometimes the king is a woman.

Interesting. This girl must be a lot more than her appearance suggests.

Plucking out her earbuds, she stares at me intently with empty, desolate eyes. It’s like she’s thinking about ways to cut my head open and look inside.

“Elsa, this is Teal.” Dad squeezes my hand, bringing me out of the staring competition with the new girl. “Teal, Elsa.”

“The spoilt princess.” Teal plays with the earbuds. “Who doesn’t know about her?”

“Pay up, T.” Knox snaps his fingers. “You owe me.”

“Not yet. I have to make sure for myself.”

“Knox, Teal,” Dad speaks slowly but with an authoritative edge. “I expect you to get along with Elsa. Am I making myself clear?”

“We already get along.” Knox winks at me. “I even beat her in math.”

“No promises, Dad.” Teal flips her hair back and heads outside without a glance.

The first droplets of rain start beating down on the glass, but she doesn’t seem to care. Maybe she also likes the rain and its ability to cleanse.

“Give Teal some time.” Dad smiles at me. “She’s not good with changes or outsiders, but she’ll get used to it.”

“Is she also…” I trail off.

“Foster sister.” Knox snaps his fingers. “Bingo.”

“How many more do I have?”

“Just two.” It’s Agnus who speaks. “Welcome back, Elsa.”

Okay.

This home isn’t like I remember it. A lot of things have changed, including the addition of two foster siblings, an uncle I don’t remember, and the maids.

It’ll take me some time to understand the new dynamics, but being here is progress on its own.

I have returned to where it all started — and ended. This is the place that can answer all my questions and lead me onto the right path.

I take a deep breath, the scent of jasmine and spices filling my nostrils.

No matter how much has changed, this remains home.

My home.

Maybe, just maybe, this is where I’m supposed to be.