Ruthless Empire (Royal Elite #6)(55)

We’ll see about that, my Butterfly.

I open her gallery and scroll through her recent photos. They’re mostly a few selfies she took with Summer and Veronica on their way to Ronan’s party.

Then I find a picture that makes me stop and click it.

It’s a shot of her out of the shower, wearing a towel, her wet blonde hair falling on either side of her. It’s a selfie, but her entire face isn’t visible — only from the nose down.

She’s trapping her lower lip under her teeth. Her towel is slightly loose around her tits to show the hickey — the same one I left above her right tit when I fucked her in the shower.

Silver took this picture right after I left. She wanted to memorise it, to store it for safekeeping.

I smile down at her. If hickeys are what she wants, I’ll bathe her body with them until the entire fucking world knows she’s taken. They might never know it’s me, but they’ll know she belongs to someone.

After sending the photo to my phone, I delete the text to myself and go to her messages, ignoring her group chat with her shallow friends. I don’t have to search long to find what I’m looking for. Unknown Number.

My muscles tense the more I read the texts. They started years ago — three, to be exact. It was around the time she became glued to her phone, sometimes smiling, other times frowning.

The number sends texts almost daily. In most of them, he tells her she’s beautiful, and in others, he’ll mention details about her daily life he wouldn’t know unless he watches her closely.

The Queens’ mansion has high security. No one but the family members and Sebastian’s team is allowed inside without supervision. And Cynthia. Somehow, Sebastian allows her free access to his house.

He hasn’t sent texts about her home clothes. They’re mostly about what she wears to go out. So this means he’s close, but not too close.

The last text he sent was on the day of the wedding.

Unknown Number: You look beautiful today, like a rose finally deflowered. Happy eighteenth birthday. You’re a woman now.

My grip tightens around the phone as my senses skyrocket to high alert.

I stare at Silver’s sleeping form, at the way her fingers are gripping me close, almost as if she’s afraid the same nightmare from earlier will repeat.

Her other hand clutches her butterfly necklace, the one I gave to her which she’s never removed.

Silver has someone who’s obsessed with her, watches her, probably masturbates to her pictures in the darkness of his room.

Someone who’s slowly but surely becoming threatening.

And she’s hiding it from the world.

Silver has someone who wants her chaos.

Just like me.





22





Doll Master





Do you ever get the feeling that you’re so close? That one step is all it’ll take for you to get it? That you’ve taken several steps, but the last one is the hardest?

I do. All the time.

However, it hasn’t been working out so well lately. Too many eyes. Too many people. Too much security.

I need to get my doll out before it’s too late.

I’ll protect her. I’ll bathe and wash her. I’ll feed her.

And eventually, she’ll realise her fate has always been with me.

She’s wasted her life enough on people who don’t deserve her. I do.

In fact, I always have.

I deserve her more than she deserves life.

I have to act fast because the other one is picking up on what I’m trying to do.

The plan is already in motion. I just need to get all the annoying things, called people, out of the way.

No one gets between me and my doll.

My art.

My masterpiece.





23





Silver





A week passes and Cole leaves me alone.

Partially, at least. He still uses every chance to get on my nerves and make me lose at everything, even if it’s a debate I started.

He never backs down. I swear he lives to see me suffer.

However, he hasn’t tried to have sex with me since that time in the shower. He hasn’t even tried to tie me up like in Ronan’s house.

Well, I have locked my room’s door every night, but I haven’t heard it being turned, which means he hasn’t tried. I mean, he’s the one who said he doesn’t like his bed and would prefer to use mine.

Not that I’m disappointed or anything.

I wasn’t even disappointed when I woke up that morning after I fell asleep in his arms and found myself alone in my bed.

I wasn’t.

The thing is, I never felt my bed was empty until he slept in it, dwarfing me in his hold, just to disappear as if it never happened.

Why hug me to sleep if he planned to leave? Besides, how come I didn’t feel him leave? I was tangled all around him. I should’ve sensed it when he untangled himself from me.

What would I have done if I had? It’s not like I would’ve told him something stupid like ‘stay’.

So anyway, I’ve been at peace. Complete peace. I’ve visited Mum and we’ve had lunches. She still seems out of sorts, but she’s working and campaigning for the party. Mum does better when her head is occupied with work. Besides, she’s seeing a successful French businessman, Lucien, whom she introduced me to. He appears to be fun and has an older man charisma that might actually rival my father’s.