Ruthless Empire (Royal Elite #6)(9)

Helen is a bestselling crime thriller novelist, so she doesn’t usually dress up at home. She only does that when she has to meet her agent or something.

I sneak up behind her and hide her vision with my hands. “Guess who?”

She hums. “A beautiful girl with baby blue eyes and the shiniest blonde hair who’s wearing pink?”

I laugh, removing my hand. “Uniform, Helen. Colours aren’t allowed, but hey, my watch is pink.”

She turns around and hugs me. She smells of strawberries and spring. If I had to pick a part that I love about Helen the most, it would be, without a doubt, the way she hugs. It’s like she engulfs you and saturates you with her warmth.

Papa rarely hugs me ever since Mum told him he’s the reason I’ll stay a little girl. Mum seldom does it, so Helen is basically my only source.

She pulls away. “Are you ready for baking?”

“Weren’t you on a deadline?”

“I finished early. So we get to bake all the cakes.”

“All?”

She nods.

“Can we make a Snickers cake?”

“You and that chocolate.” She smothers a soft laugh. “Yes, we can make that.”

“Yes! You’re the best.” I kiss her cheek and she laughs again.

Helen and I get to work, and as always, I’m her sous-chef. She has a way of mixing ingredients that makes her fit to be a chef if she ever considers changing careers.

“You look beautiful, Helen,” I tell her as we mix up eggs with butter.

Her warm smile makes an appearance. “I do?”

“Of course you do. If you go out there, you’ll come back with ten men.”

“Silver! Where have you heard things like that, honey?”

“The girls at school.”

“Wow. Kids these days are unpredictable.”

“I mean it, Helen. You’re still young and beautiful. Oh, and rich. Mum says that’s what matters the most.”

Helen’s eyes cast downwards. “Not in all cases, honey.”

Ever since her husband’s death six years ago, Helen has dedicated her life to her wanker son and her work. She became a bestselling novelist and built a name for herself, but I can sense how lonely she is.

Like Papa.

Oh. Like Papa.

A wicked idea comes to mind. I can tell Papa to come pick me up early and then pretend to be asleep so he can spend some time with Helen.

I gave up trying to patch things between him and Mum some time ago. All they do is fight, so maybe it’s better for both their sakes to see other people.

I get into action before I can even think about it. I text Papa, and when he doesn’t reply, I text Derek so that he passes on the message.

By the time Helen and I are finished with baking, I pretend I’m sleepy. Helen tells me to use any room down the hall to take a nap until my Snickers cake is ready.

I’m definitely taking that home with me. I don’t have to tell Mum about it.

The moment I lie on the bed and place my head on the soft pillow, I somehow fall asleep.

I dream of Helen and Papa’s wedding. I’m smiling, happy even, and I’m wearing a princess dress like the one from that Cinderella remake, but pink.

Then I see who’s standing beside me at their wedding.

Cole.

Cole becomes my brother.

He’s laughing so loud that I wake up with a start.

Damn it. Why didn’t I think of that before I came up with the plan?

I was too focused on Papa’s and Helen’s loneliness that I forgot the small but horrible detail of Cole becoming my brother.

No. Nope.

I’ll have to find other people for Helen and Papa. I’ll never live under the same roof as that crude, stupid — “Bad dream?”

I gasp and almost jump off the mattress. Cole is sitting beside me, leaning against the headboard and reading from a book called Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. His hair is damp and falls on his forehead. He’s wearing cotton trousers and a simple white T-shirt, which means he just got out of the shower.

I can’t help inhaling the scent of his shower gel. It’s like cinnamon and spice and I’ve become so used to it in a weird way lately.

I wipe my mouth in case there’s drool or something. “W-what are you doing here?”

“This is my room,” he says without looking up from his book.

He does that a lot, reading. Like a nerd, making all the girls watch him and say he’s so swoony. So attractive. So hot. He’s not.

“It’s not your room.” I do a swift glance to make sure. Of course it isn’t. Considering I make it my mission to avoid his room, I would’ve known if it were.

“I made you look.”

“You’re such a wanker.” I fold my arms over my chest, glaring at him.

We remain like that for a second too long. He’s reading while I continue to glare, trying to figure out what the hell girls find attractive about him.

Yes, he has beautiful eyes that seem mysterious like the top of trees no one can reach. His hair is soft and a bit long, so that’s cool, too, I guess. His face is generally pleasing to look at, yes.

But his personality is rotten.

Why does he keep attracting everyone so much?

“You went to a charity event with Aiden?” he asks quietly, still staring at his book.