Ruthless Empire (Royal Elite #6)(32)

Xander’s father, Lewis Knight, is a powerful member in Papa’s party and basically his right hand — besides Frederic.

I’ve been thrust with these guys since a young age whether I liked it or not. Not that I dislike them — they’re actually fun — but I’ll never tell them that so it doesn’t get into their already big heads.

I swat Ronan’s hand away from the container. “Stop it.”

“Hey!” He stuffs a scone in his mouth. “Food is free. Don’t be a snob, chéri.”

“There’s an open buffet outside.”

“Nah, my father glares at me when I eat this much in public.” He steals another one. “I have to do it in secret like a proper gentleman.”

“Amongst other things you do in secret.” Xander winks at him.

“Mais bien s?r.” Ronan grins. “Remember those tits?”

“Ronan!” I scold.

“What? You didn’t show us yours, so we had to outsource it.” Ronan stares at my cleavage. “Unless you changed your mind.”

“I might.” I open more containers on the counter.

“Really?” both Ronan and Xander nearly shout.

“Really. I have one condition, though.”

“I’m in.” Xander smirks.

“Moi aussi.” Ronan swallows the food in his mouth. “Threesome anyone?”

“What’s the condition?” Xander insists.

“Wank a cactus.” I give them a smug look.

Both their expressions fall when they realise I never planned to go through with it anyway in the first place. They can be so dramatic sometimes.

“Pass.” Xander sighs.

“Silver, mon amour, your tits are beautiful but not beautiful enough to have me cause damage to Ron Astor the Second.”

“Ron Astor the Second?” I ask.

“That’s his dick.” Xander rolls his eyes.

“Ew, I can’t believe you named your dick.”

“All healthy males do. Not my problem you only get close to psychos.” Ronan grins and snatches another dessert from between my fingers to devour it as if he’s been starving.

“So, new family, huh?” Xander waggles his brows, flashing me his dimples.

“It’s just Helen.” I continue with my task.

“And Cole.” Ronan follows me like a puppy to steal from every container I open.

I swat his hands away.

“What? I’m tasting them for you, chéri. You should thank me. Anyway, where was I? Right, Cole. How could you forget him?”

It doesn’t hurt to try.

Today, I haven’t held eye contact with him. I’ve passed him by every time I can. I haven’t looked at his pressed suit Helen is so proud of. I haven’t spoken when people are congratulating us for becoming siblings.

I’ve simply kept my mouth shut and played “Moonlight Sonata” in my head. I’ve pretended I’m somewhere out of here.

Somewhere where he isn’t outside accepting congratulations and acting as if this is the happiest day of his life.

Why can’t I do that?

Just why?

“Where’s Aiden?” I ask instead.

He showed up with Uncle Jonathan, but then he disappeared somewhere out of sight.

“Why?” Ronan grins. “You miss him?”

Not in a million years. “We need to take pictures.”

“He’s probably playing chess against himself.” Xander sips from a glass of champagne and grimaces. “This shit is awful. Do you have any Vodka somewhere?”

“We have no relationship with the mafia, thank you very much.”

“You don’t have to be a bitch about it.” He messes up my plates for good measure before running away.

I nearly hit him with a pan. Ronan steals one more scone and jogs away, too, before I can catch him. He almost runs into Mum on his way out.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Davis.” He takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it. “Is it only me or have you become even more beautiful over the years?”

She laughs, the sound throaty. “You’re such a darling, Ronan.”

He bows to her like the proper gentleman he’ll never be and leaves.

Mum joins me at the counter, walking in that confident, lady-like way. She’s wearing a red dress. No kidding. Her golden locks are styled like an actress’s and she has perfect makeup made for models.

When I told her she’s not supposed to look better than the bride, she said, “Nonsense. Do you want the media to say Cynthia Davis is heartbroken over her husband’s remarriage? I need to look my absolute best.”

That was after she cried in the bathroom and I hugged her, crying too, but for different reasons.

Yes, I now realise my parents will never be together, but I lost something else too.

“How many times have I told you that you don’t have to do this, Babydoll?” She glances down at the containers with distaste. “Your father pays people for that.”

“I just want to help.”

“Go outside and take pictures. That'll be your greatest help. But don’t you dare play the piano and appear too happy for him.”

“I’ll go out in a bit.” We have that dreadful new family picture we need to take.