Ruthless Empire (Royal Elite #6)(7)
“Say please.”
“I’m not saying please,” he mocks. “Do it or I’ll pull on your hair.”
“Then I’ll just kiss Aiden’s cheek and you’ll lose that first forever.”
Cole’s nostrils flare and I fold my arms, feeling smug.
“You’ll regret this,” he says.
“Don’t care.”
He takes a deep breath. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Silver,” he warns. He only uses my given name when he’s mad or wants me to do something.
“You have to say the whole sentence.”
He grits his teeth but speaks in a calm voice. “Please kiss me on the cheek.”
I do.
Placing a hand on the bench, I lean over and brush my lips against his right cheek. The contact is brief, but for some reason, my face heats and I quickly pull back.
He’s smirking.
Why is he smirking?
Cole taps his left cheek. “Now, the other one.”
“We only agreed on one cheek.”
“We only agreed on a cheek, we didn’t specify which one. I wanted the left one.”
“Fine.” I want to feel his skin again anyway.
He leans in slightly so his left cheek is in front of me. But the moment my lips are about to make contact with his skin, he abruptly turns his head and his mouth seals to mine.
For a second, I’m too stunned to react. His lips are soft and feel fuller than they look.
And now, they’re on mine.
I reel back in shock, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. My cheeks are so hot, I feel like they’ll explode.
“W-w-w-why d-did you d-do t-that?!” I point a shaky finger at him. It’s like I can’t speak anymore.
Another smirk lifts his lips. The lips I just kissed. “Because.”
“Cole, you…you…”
“Tosser?” he completes for me, tilting his head.
“I wish you’d die —” I pause, realising what I said. Those words should never be said, not after what happened with Mum recently. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I’m fine if you do. Besides, you’re the only one to blame for this.”
“Me?”
“I told you you’d regret it. Don’t threaten me again, Butterfly. You’ll never win against me.”
I hit his shoulder with a closed fist. “Go away!”
“Or what? You’ll stop acting like a lady? You already have. Ladies don’t punch.”
“Shut up and go.”
“All right, all right. A deal is a deal. I’m going.” He staggers to his feet, still smiling in that infuriating way, taunting me, making me want to punch him in the throat.
“I hate you.” I glare up at him. His shadow is camouflaging the sun and his presence is blocking everything else.
He ruffles my hair, making the golden strands fly everywhere, before he places a palm on the top of my head and leans down so his face is level with mine.
There’s no smile on his lips as he speaks with an edge to the tone of his voice. “Hate me all you want, but keep our promise. All your firsts are mine.”
Silver
Age fourteen
My mum said I could do better.
I could be more sophisticated, more elegant, and just…more.
I pushed Kimberly away because if I hadn’t, Mum would’ve hurt her in some way. Mum’s too direct and doesn’t think twice before saying truths — no matter how ugly they are. She doesn’t care about who she crushes on her way to success. She doesn’t stop to think about the consequences for other people. She simply doesn’t feel like the rest of us do.
Or if she ever did, that part of her died after the divorce. Or, rather, three years ago. It’s like she killed a part of herself in that tub.
Since then, I don’t want to test her in any way. If she says I’m to change friends, I change friends. If she says I shouldn’t wear a certain thing, I don’t. If she says I shouldn’t listen to rock music, I don’t. At least, not in public. Everyone knows me as a piano girl, and I’ll remain that way.
It’s not that I don’t like playing the piano, because I do. However, I prefer listening to other types of music with thought-provoking lyrics.
Mum calls it the devil’s music.
Before I know it, my life has become an image. I act a certain way, speak a certain way, and even walk a certain way. I have to sway my hips gently, but I can’t walk too slow like a slut or too fast like a nerd.
I’m a lady. Just like Mum.
Papa sat me down and told me I didn’t have to follow her instructions or be threatened by her. But Papa didn’t see what I saw. Papa wasn’t there.
I love him more than the world itself, but he’s not me. He wasn’t split up between two alpha parents with god-like personalities. He wasn’t forced to see one of them hit rock bottom.
As soon as I told him I wanted this, he didn’t bring up the subject again. Papa might be a feared politician with strict rules and steel-like opinions, but he respects my wishes above anything else. And for that alone, I’m grateful to him.
I haven’t been able to say it as much lately. Part of being a lady is not showing your emotions. If you do have to show them, they shouldn’t be your real ones. Those need to be always hidden where no one could find them.