To say I’m not intimidated by the sheer power Jonathan exudes without talking would be a lie. However, I won’t cower away.
He can break my bones and I’ll still squeeze with the intact bones I have left.
“Dad.”
Aiden’s detached voice comes from the side. I was lost in my silent war with Jonathan that I didn’t sense his presence.
That’s a first.
Jonathan’s sharp gaze slides from me to Aiden without breaking the handshake. I stare incredulously at the battle that erupts between Father and son.
Aiden is a carbon copy of the older King. It’s like a battle royale between a larger-than-life power and his younger self.
The king and his heir.
I’m not sure who’s winning or if there needs to be a winner, but the tension hangs in the air like a thick sheen of smoke.
Suffocating.
Mysterious.
Enthralling.
“Have fun with your party, Son.”
Just like that, Jonathan lets me go as smoothly and as predatory as a panther.
“Will do.”
Jonathan smiles like a refined, aristocratic gentleman. Not too welcoming, but also not repulsive. It’s conserved with a hint of the darkness that coats Aiden like a second skin.
The dark demons are in their damn genes.
After giving me another once over, Jonathan starts towards the entrance with domineering strides.
I face Aiden, thinking he’s watching his father like I just did.
Instead, Aiden’s full concentration is on the tray in my shaking hand. He snatches and carries it in his grasp without uttering a word or sparing me a glance.
He strides in the direction Margo and I were heading to.
I massage the hand that Jonathan nearly broke and fall in step with Aiden.
“What was that all about?” I ask.
Silence.
“Aiden?”
More silence, but his strides turn wider.
Did I mention how much it sucks to be on his bad side? Who thought someone like Aiden would use the silent treatment?
I jog and stand in front of him with both my arms flung wide.
He halts and cuts me a glare so harsh, it’s like he’s slicing me open with knives. His knuckles tighten around the tray.
“W-what is it?”
This side of him always puts me on high alert. Aiden isn’t the type who parades his emotions so freely. The fact that he seems close to combusting means something disastrous is bound to happen.
“Say something.” I push when he remains silent yet again.
“Stay away from my father.” He enunciates every word in a near growl.
“I didn’t approach him, I —”
“I don’t give a fuck about what you did or didn’t do. You don’t speak to Jonathan. You don’t shake hands with him, and you certainly don’t fucking talk to him. When you see him, you turn and walk in the opposite direction. Is that clear?”
My head spins. “Why?”
“Because I fucking said so.”
“I’m sorry, your majesty, but I don’t do things because you fucking said so.”
“Elsa…” He growls, deep and low.
“Tell me why.”
“This is one of the times where you just say yes and don’t argue with me.”
“Or what?”
His metallic eyes turn calculative. “Or I’ll get Reed drunk and let Knight take her home.”
“You… wouldn’t.”
“Watch me.” He brushes past me into a room.
My heart skips a beat.
I just provoked the ugly, monstrous side of Aiden. The side who doesn’t care who he hurts as long as he gets what he wants.
For him, Kim is just a means to an end — which is me. He used her before and will use her again to prove he can make me agree to whatever he wishes.
He knows how much Kim means to me and that I won’t hesitate to protect her.
What he doesn’t know is that two can play this game.
This time, Aiden isn’t going to win.
Chapter Forty-Two
I should’ve known that this night will be a disaster the moment Cole and Kim walked into the theatre room together.
Or when Xander’s jaw ticked.
Or when Aiden watched the scene with cold calculation.
We all sit facing the huge TV that occupies the entire wall. Hell, it’s the same size as cinemas’ screens. The leather sofas can easily swallow a person. There’s even a place to put hamburgers, chips, and beer.
Kim and I settle for soda. I ignore the fact that Aiden snatches the regular coke and thrusts a diet coke in my hands. I told him before that diet coke is only lower on calories but isn’t healthy. However, I let it go this time.
If there’s anything I learnt from being with Aiden, then it’s to pick my battles.
Right now, the most important battle is to know what the hell he has planned for Kim.
When I tried to slide in beside her, Aiden dragged me and sat me between his parted thighs.
He’s all around me and surrounding me. His chest hovers inches away from my back, but I can taste his scent mixed with the after-shower gel. Every breath I take is filled with his overpowering presence. He seeps under my skin and settles in my core with a harsh wave of lust. Aiden isn’t even touching me, but he doesn’t need to. It’s like he owned me since the first touch.
The air ripples with the promise of his skin on mine. I clench my thighs together and focus on the screen.
Today, Arsenal plays the most important games of the season in the European Champions League. If I were with Uncle, we’d be hotblooded Gunners cheering our hearts out like Xander and Ronan.
They jump like rabbits on crack, shouting and even kicking imaginary balls. They even speak in thick cockney accents that posh folks shouldn’t even have heard of. It must be due to mingling with other football fans.
I wonder if Aiden can speak cockney, too.
The theatre room fills with fan cheers, the commentators’ enthusiasm and Xander and Ronan’s fanatic madness.
Cole and Aiden are the calm types of audience. Cole says some ooh and aah’s, but he never moves from his position.
Kim sits beside me and Aiden with Cole on her other side, drinking her second — or third — beer.
She might be an Elites’ fan, but she doesn’t care much for the Premier League.
While Ronan and Xander shout, curse, and throw chips and snacks everywhere, Kim watches them with keen interest like they’re the game.
In a way, they make an entertaining show. When Arsenal is on the run, they kick balls with them. They throw imaginary free kicks and bump shoulders when something good happens.
I’m laughing by the time they sing along fan chants in an off-tune. Kim laughs, too, with her eyes half drooping. When she finishes her beer, Aiden pushes another one into her hand and she accepts it with a sloppy smile.
I cut him a glare. “Are you trying to get her drunk?”
His cold gaze remains on the screen, but he doesn’t appear all that interested in the game. “She’s already there.”
“Aiden.” My voice lowers as I half-turn so my back rests against his bent thigh. “What are you doing?”
His metallic gaze slides to me in a slow, predatory way. Just like that, Aiden’s loathsome, psycho side comes out to play. Just because I overlook his nature sometimes doesn’t mean it disappears.