Ruthless Empire (Royal Elite #6)(10)

“I did. We were with Papa and Uncle Jonathan.”

“And what did you do?”

“We had fun.”

“Define fun, Butterfly.”

“We talked to some of Papa and Uncle Jonathan’s friends, and they said we’re smart kids who’ll be perfect heirs to our fathers.” I grin at that memory, I love when people compare me to Papa. “Then we ate and we played chess and we danced and —”

“You danced?” he cuts me off, finally lifting his head from his book to glimpse at me.

I nod.

“How?”

“What do you mean, how? We danced a bit of a waltz.”

“Waltz,” he repeats, glaring at me as if he wants to punch me. If I didn’t know Cole doesn’t punch or hit anyone — not even jokingly — I would’ve run from the room.

The silence stretches until it becomes uncomfortable. I hate long periods of silence, it makes me squirmy. Mum’s voice echoes in my head over and over again.

A lady never feels awkward.

“Then Aiden and I went outside,” I continue. “We snuck and ate more dessert behind the staff’s back and —”

“Shut up.”

“You’re the one who asked what fun we had.”

“And now I’m telling you to shut up.” He slams his book closed and although the sound isn’t loud, I flinch in place.

I should probably go. Not only to escape this atmosphere, but also to find Papa before my plan comes into play.

“Show me your titties,” Cole says out of freaking nowhere.

My eyes widen so hard and I swallow as if that will somehow erase what I’ve heard.

His face remains neutral, even though his lips twitch as if to smile — or smirk.

“N-no!” I cross my hands over my chest.

“I could’ve seen them when you were asleep.”

If my jaw could hit the floor, it would about now. I pull the sheet to my chest, my voice small and wrong. “D-did you? See them, I mean.”

“No. It’s more fun if you do it.”

“Well, I’m not doing it.” I narrow my eyes into slits.

“You will eventually, so you might as well start now.”

“Nice try. No.”

He shrugs as if it’s the most normal occurrence in the world. Ever since I started growing breasts, Ronan and Xander won’t stop asking things about them, like can they touch them? No. Do I stare at them all day? No. Can they get a picture to compare to the other pictures they have? No — and I didn’t even ask what other pictures they have.

Cole has never once paid attention to them. It’s the first time he’s mentioned them. But Cole has a way of watching things that never alludes to what he’s actually thinking or feeling.

“Do you want a dare?” he asks.

I jut my chin. “What are the stakes?”

I’ve learnt to always ask about the stakes before we start, because Cole plays unfair. I’m really beginning to think he loses just because he forfeits.

And that’s a low blow to my pride.

“If you win, I do something for you. No questions asked. And vice versa.”

“I’m not showing you my breasts, Cole.”

“You mean tits?”

My face heats. Why does he have to be so crude? “Well, I’m not showing them.”

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Promise.”

“What’s the dare?”

He throws the book in my lap. “Pick a page, then tell me to read any line.”

“That’s ridiculous. You can’t have possibly memorised the whole book.”

“Then you’ll win.”

I nibble on my bottom lip, contemplating this. Cole has an excellent memory but it doesn’t go as far as memorising a book. Besides, he’s just started reading this one. I know, because he was reading something called Nausea yesterday.

Only Cole would read weird books like that when all the other boys are hiding porn. Ronan and Xander sure are.

If he’s stupid enough to make this bet, so be it. I open the book, hiding it away from him. “You’re going to be my slave for a week, Cole.”

“Is that what you wish?”

“I’m going to make you regret everything you’ve done to me.” I pause at a page and the line at the top catches my attention. “Page one eighty-eight, paragraph two.”

A smug smile lifts my lips, my mind already full with different ways I’ll torment Cole.

“‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘Both of us have a lot of feelings we need to get out in the open. So if you want to take those feelings and smash somebody with them, smash me. Then we can understand each other better.’” He doesn’t even miss a beat.

My eyes must double in size as I stare between him and the book. It’s the same line, word for word.

No. No.

I point a finger at him. “You cheated!”

“You were hiding the book like your life depended on it, Butterfly. You think I could cheat?”

“Then you knew I was going to pick it.”

“How would I know which page you’d choose, let alone which line?”

“I…I demand a redo.”