Ruthless Empire (Royal Elite #6)(8)
I know people at school call me a bitch, the queen B, but I don’t mind.
Being a bitch means I’m doing a perfect job of hiding my emotions and I don’t have to live that nightmare again.
It means I get to keep all my pieces together.
So I’ve played the bitch role so well until no one can see through it. I’ve picked fights just to come out as the winner. I’ve played games merely to prove that I can.
Even Kim, who used to be my closest friend, believes the transformation and now calls me a bitch herself. Sometimes, I want to send her a text and tell her I’m sorry, but at the last minute, I change my mind. There’s something a lot bigger than friendship at stake and I would never gamble that.
Mum says it’s lonely at the top and I’m starting to understand what that means.
Her friends have started to drift away the more she climbs the party’s ladder, establishing herself as the most beautiful female politician who can actually rival men. A while ago, a reporter asked her if she used her beauty to get what she wants, and she said the famous line, “I came here to talk about a very serious, very urgent problem, and that is public housing. Can I share my thoughts, or do I have to sit and dodge comments about my face before I’m able to do so?”
That gained her a lot of popularity on social media and with women’s associations.
“Thank you, Derek.” I peek at Papa’s driver through the window after he drops me off from school at Helen’s house. “Don’t forget to drink the tea I gave you earlier. I made it myself.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” He grins, showing straight, white teeth. He’s in his late twenties and helps Papa a lot with his work. “Have fun, Miss Queens.”
“It’s Silver.” I wave at him as the car disappears around the corner. Papa said he’d pick me up later, even when I told him I could walk home.
The housekeeper, Isabel, lets me in with a huge smile on her face. She’s the only help Helen allows and she only comes twice a week. Isabel motions that Helen is in the kitchen.
I place a finger to my lips and tiptoe there, abandoning my backpack on the sofa.
Spending time with Helen is one of the highlights of my week. Papa has become busier with the party since he became a secretary of state. I participate in his meetings, but he barely has time for me — or for himself. It kills me to see him so alone and getting older by the day.
However, I’ve been spending most of my time with Mum and it’s hardly fun.
When I’m with Helen, we talk and bake — or more like, she bakes. I continue to suck at it. Yet Helen has never given up on me and keeps teaching me.
We meditate together and she still does my hair and tells me I’m the perfect daughter she never had. Maybe hearing those words my own mother rarely says to me is what keeps me coming back here.
It’s certainly not because of her arsehole son.
I hate Cole Nash.
I despise him from the bottom of my heart.
He’s levelled up from pulling my hair and taunting me to playing games. He loves those a lot — games, I mean. The belief that he has control over someone.
And he’s becoming popular, too — he and that other wanker, Aiden. I don’t know what girls see in them. They’re both yuck.
Xander and Ronan make sense. At least they’re charming.
Oh, wait. Everyone thinks Cole is charming as well. He smiles at them and offers to help with their homework, like he’s the prince from their favourite fairy tales.
Idiots.
They don’t know that everything is a game to Cole. If he compliments someone or acts nice to them, it’s usually because of a dare he has with Aiden on who gets whose favour.
While Aiden does it the brooding way, Cole charms himself into it. It’s about who wins, but it’s also about the process.
Cole thrives on games and he’s been playing them for years. He likes to think everyone is a piece on his chessboard and that he can control their fate.
Aiden likes playing the king who comes out a winner, but Cole strives to be the player who controls not only the king but also every piece on the board.
We mostly avoid each other. The more I see his true self, the more he sees mine. I hate that.
We can go days not speaking to each other, not even when Helen or Papa is around. Then he’ll come out of nowhere and provoke me — or challenge me. It can be as simple as a biology test, or a piano competition, or even who holds their breath underwater the longest.
I rise up to every one of them.
I’m Sebastian Queens and Cynthia Davis’s daughter and I’m as tenacious as my parents. No one gets past me.
No one.
He usually wins and laughs at me, though. I swear he only keeps being the first in class just to piss me off and call me Miss Number Two. Sometimes, even Aiden will push me off the second place simply to prove he can.
Both of them are major wankers.
They have football practice right now, which means I can spend time with his mother in peace.
Couldn’t she have a different son? Ronan or Xander would do. Hell, even Levi, Aiden’s cousin, would be fine.
It had to be the one I hate the most.
The one who makes me feel fake whenever he looks in my direction at school.
Helen stands in front of the refrigerator with her back facing me. She’s wearing chic trousers and a pressed shirt. Her light chestnut hair is tied in a neat bun that shows off her soft cheekbones and enhances the size of her hazel eyes.