Home > Cruel King(50)

Cruel King(50)
Author: Rina Kent

The Jonathan King. Owner of the King Enterprises and Dad’s archenemy of sorts.

“Get away from my daughter. Now.” I flinch at the authority in Dad’s voice.

“Come here, Levi.” Jonathan is deadly calm with one of his hands in his pockets.

It’s frighteningly similar to Aiden’s lethal, poker face.

Levi tilts his head to the side, “Pass.”

“Come here or everything ends.” Jonathan pauses and some sort of a battle erupts between him and his nephew. “Everything, Levi.”

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t move. Not an inch. Even though I don’t know what Jonathan’s talking about, something tells me it’s not in Levi’s favour.

“Astrid.” Dad’s sharp voice causes my shoulders to snap upright.

I push my hair back as I stumble to my feet. The T-shirt reaches the middle of my thighs, but I still tug down on it.

Those pale blue eyes clash with mine for a brief second and I offer him an encouraging smile. His fingers brush against my arm before I drop my head and trudge to Dad’s side.

As soon as I’m within touching distance, Dad grips my arm and cages me behind him.

“This is the last time I see a Clifford on my property,” Jonathan glares down at Dad and he glares back.

A more ferocious battle than the one from earlier erupts between them and I swallow at the thick tension in the air.

“Keep your spawn away from my daughter.” Dad drags me away from the house before I can throw one last glance at Levi.

As soon as we’re outside, I stop, trying to pull Dad into a halt. “Are they fighting? Can’t you stop them?”

“We have no place in familial matters.”

“But isn’t those familial matters how you found me?”

“I had a very unpleasant call from Jonathan while I was searching for you. He told me that my daughter could be with his nephew.”

I’m so ashamed, but it’s not what’s pushing me right now. My heartbeat thunders in my ears as I strain to hear what’s going on inside. What if Jonathan beats Levi?

“But Dad, he —”

“It’s Father!” He shouts, drawing me to a halt near his car. “How many times do I tell you to call me Father? I gave you two rules. Two simple rules. Don’t sully the Clifford name and stay away from the King’s surname. You broke both of them in one day. Both. Every time I think I’m getting to you, it spirals out of control all over again. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you anymore, Astrid.”

Tears fill my eyes and I try to fight them away as I take the onslaught of Dad’s words. It’s like I’m in the presence of a stranger, not someone who’s supposed to be the closest person to me.

“I didn’t ask for this either. I didn’t want to live with you and your stupid family. I didn’t want to be shackled by rules and manners. I didn’t want to sneak out every day so I won’t be forced into a breakfast with your wife who insults me and my mother the entire time. But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that you always take her side. Mum would’ve never done that, Mum would’ve heard me out. Mum stayed when you abandoned us. I wish it was you who died that day, not her.”

I regret the words as soon as they come out. My lips tremble as Dad’s face turns stone cold.

“I… I—”

He releases me as if I were on fire. “Get in the car.”

“D-Dad… I… I didn’t me—”

“Get in the car, Astrid.”

I flinch at his non-negotiable tone and hurry to the passenger seat. I sniffle and wipe my eyes, fighting the onslaught of emotions coursing through me.

When Dad takes his seat and doesn’t spare me a glance, I know, I just know that I screwed up any chance I had with him.

If Dad hated me before, then now, he simply didn’t care about me anymore.

 

 

39

 

 

Levi

 

 

Our calm is only a delusion to the storm.

 

* * *

 

I watch Astrid being dragged out. The only thing stopping me from snatching her from her father is her own sake.

If I act on what I want, she might end up in more trouble than she already is with her father. Despite her reservations about him, she looks up at him like he’s God.

Or maybe I didn’t interfere because I’m a coward who doesn’t want to see her choose him over me.

I face Jonathan, making sure he sees the tension radiating off my body. This one has his schemes written all over it.

He’s wearing a dark brown Italian suit all complete with Italian leather shoes. Handmade. One of a kind. Just for him.

Jonathan likes to believe the world revolves around him. And why wouldn’t he when everything he wants whirls in his orbit?

His hair is slicked back and he has the usual indifferent expression that Aiden inherited.

“How did you find me?”

“You thought I didn’t know about your little hideout?” He throws a glance around the place with disregard before his metal eyes slide back to me. “I told you. You only exist because I allow it.”

Although a thousand retorts fight to break free, I reign them in. I lived with Jonathan long enough to recognise his provocations.

He feeds off anger. Now, I realise that I’ve been treating it all wrong.

I’ve been playing in the devil’s hands and pretending to be above him.

“See, patterns are my forte, and I knew you’d fuck up at some point. It’s written in your DNA. One mistake, Levi. I gave you the right to one mistake and it had to be a Clifford.” He pronounces the name with disgust as if he doesn’t want to say it.

“She has nothing to do with this.”

He raises an eyebrow, and I curse myself for wording it that way. Fuck. I just gave him the reaction he needs.

“I see.” Jonathan approaches with steady steps, his shoes are the only sound in the house. “This isn’t a meaningless fling to rebel against me. That’s… interesting.”

“If you have a problem, then you have it with me,” I snarl in his face. “Stay the hell away from her.”

“I don’t have to approach her. Her father will be more than enough to put her back where she belongs.” His calm expression morphs to sheer hatred. “Far the fuck away from the King name.”

I pause. It’s the first time I see Jonathan showing such great hatred to anyone. He believes emotions such as hatred, revenge and holding grudges are a waste of time and energy.

Lord Clifford must’ve done something unforgivable to elicit unschooled hatred from Jonathan.

“You recognise that this is your fall, right?” Jonathan stares down at me with that usual ‘you’re a rock in my shoe’ look. “Are you ready for seven years in my company? No more football or your little escapades.”

My jaw clenches so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t snap.

The moment I always dreaded has come.

My football dream is withering away right in front of my fucking eyes.

It’s at moments like these that people start regretting what they did.

I don’t.

If I get to repeat last night and today with Astrid, I’d do it all over again.

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