Cruel King: Chapter 20
When it rains, it fucking pours.
My eyes are barely open as I trudge down the stairs. Pain snaps from the back to the front of my head and my nose is partially blocked.
Yup. Totally caught something from being soaked in last night’s rain.
Aside from sheer confusion.
The more time I spend with Levi, the better I think I know him. At the same time, it’s like I still know next to nothing about him.
For the life of me, I can’t figure out why he does everything he does.
Don’t they say that on the chessboard, the king’s moves can’t be predicted?
Or did I make that up?
What worries me the most about Levi isn’t his acts. It’s my reaction to him. Yesterday, I was on the verge of completely surrendering to his sinful touch and lips. Damn those firm, kissable lips.
For the love of Vikings, why can’t I snap out of it and stop thinking about that kiss?
He’s the devil, remember?
“I saw her! She came home in King’s car.”
“Now, hush, Nicole,” Victoria hisses. “Don’t say that name aloud in this house.”
My feet falter around the corner of the dining room, contemplating what to do.
They’re talking about me so I shouldn’t feel bad about eavesdropping.
“I can’t take this anymore, she’s not supposed to be here. You said she’ll be gone.”
“She will.” Victoria sounds calm. “This is her last year in the house before she leaves for good.”
How did she figure out my plan?
Not that I care. This is all for everyone’s benefit. I don’t fit in with Victoria and Nicole’s posh, perfect life.
Even Nicole’s dead father was some sort of a knight. She and her mother are a picture-perfect family cut for Dad’s needs.
If he has to choose, it won’t be me.
I ignore the pang that comes with that thought and start to push inside when Victoria’s voice stops me. “Her type belongs in the rubbish just like her whore mother.”
Blood pumps in my veins and heat smothers my neck, creeping to my face.
I barge inside with my fists clenched to my sides and throw my backpack on the chair.
Victoria and Nicole sit across from each other with their plates in front of them.
“Take it back,” I say with a calmness I don’t feel.
Nicole’s malicious eyes shoot daggers in my direction as she stabs something in her plate.
Victoria’s perfect eyebrows scrunch in mock surprise. “Take what back, dear?”
“You called my mother a whore and you’ll take it back.”
“You must’ve misheard, dear,” Victoria continues smiling as she sips her tea with no care in the world.
The thing about Victoria is her ability to avoid confrontation and slip her way out of any dire situation. It’s probably why she’s the perfect wife for a man like my father.
But I’m not the press. She’s not getting away with calling my mother a whore.
“I don’t know much about my parents’ history, but I know that my mum came first,” I mimic her cool, infuriating smile. “Maybe we should research who’s the homewrecking whore in all this story.”
Victoria’s face scrunches, but she remains seated. Nicole jumps up, pointing a fork at me. “Did you just call my mother a homewrecking whore?”
“Oh,” I smirk, making sure to meet Victoria’s gaze. “You must’ve misheard, dear.”
Nicole makes her way towards me
“Sit down, Nicole,” Victoria scolds.
“You little bitch,” Nicole snarls in my face, “You and your slut of a mother were and will always be nothing to Uncle Henry. You’re just used tissue that can be thrown any second.”
I raise my fist and punch Nicole in the face.
It’s a knee-jerk reaction. Something that comes in the ruse of the moment.
Hearing her talk about my mother that way brings a rolling wave of rage.
No one, absolutely no one, badmouths my mother and gets away with it.
Nicole and Victoria shriek at the same time as the younger girl falls against the table clutching her face.
Nicole straightens with her eyes shimmering. She fists her hands, and I hold my ground.
Bring it. I’m ready for a fight to the death with her right now.
Victoria pulls her daughter back by the collar of her dress.
“Oh, Henry. I don’t know what’s wrong with Astrid.” She caresses Nicole’s hair. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.”
My muscles lock at the mention of Dad’s name. Measured footsteps come from behind me before he stands by his wife and stepdaughter’s side. His face is so closed, it’s impossible to read his mood.
“She called my mother a whore, Uncle,” Nicole sobs, showing him the reddening circle around her left eye. “When I told her to stop, she punched me.”
“That’s not true!” I yell.
“Oh, Henry,” Victoria cries. “I think Nicole needs to see a doctor.”
“Oh, come on.” I stare at her with stupefaction. It wasn’t that strong, although I wish it were.
“I know you don’t like us, Astrid.” Victoria looks at me with pity-filled eyes. “But I thought we were a family.”
“Stop being a hypocrite! You called my mother —
“Enough.” Dad’s voice booms in the dining room.
“But, Dad, she —
“It’s Father, not Dad,” he grits out.
I fight the sob trying to be set free. “She said my mum — ”
“Your mother is dead.” He deadpans as if I don’t know that piece of information. “She’s been dead for three years. I’ve been trying to give you leeway, but it’s not working. When will you learn that your mother is in the past?”
“Never!” My vision blurs with tears. “Just because you forgot about her doesn’t mean I will.”
“Astrid Elizabeth Clifford. You’ll stop this instant and apologise to Victoria and Nicole.”
Both mother and daughter smile discreetly.
I lift my chin up even as a tear slides down my cheek. “I’ll never apologise.”
“Then you’ll forget about attending next week’s exhibition.”
No. I’ve been looking forward to it since my accident. He can’t take that away from me. “But you promised.”
“And you promised to try and get along with Victoria and Nicole. If you don’t keep your promises, why should I?”
“I won’t apologise for something they started.”
“No apology. No exhibition.”
“Fine!” I snatch my backpack and throw it over my shoulder. “But for the record, you stopped keeping your promises since I was seven, Father.”
I wait until I’m out of the house before letting the tears loose.