Cruel King (Royal Elite #0) - Rina Kent Page 0,23

I’m pissed off.

“I mean, it’s not even an insult.” Ronan laughs as he slaps an imaginary arse. “You get the best pussy out of us all. Whoever did this must be jealous.”

“Yeah, King.” Xander laughs along. “It’s not your fault that all the girls throw themselves at you. It’s an honour, am I right?”

The rest of the guys hoot and cheer, saying how they’d love to be me.

But that’s the thing about appearances, isn’t it? They all think it’s the family name, the safe funds, the face, and maybe even the talent. They think I have it all. I’m a lucky fucking bastard because all the girls want to be with me.

I cause trouble and get away with it.

I give the world the finger and I’m cheered on.

I fuck a teacher and have the entire school board apologise to my uncle instead of the other way around.

The team doesn’t know that the only reason I keep up with the dumb drama is because of the rebellion I’ve been leading against Jonathan.

They want to be me?

Well, good luck with getting inside my head. Even I dislike that fucking place.

“Get them out of my sight,” I say with a calmness I don’t feel. The junior members trip over each other to empty the locker.

“Stay calm,” Aiden whispers beside me while putting on his jacket.

He must be seeing the demons swirling in my eyes because he repeats in a slower, lower tone. “You need to stay fucking calm, Lev.”

I breathe through my nostrils, trying — and failing — to expel the gloomy, murderous energy running through my veins.

The need to hurt.

To maim.

To fucking destroy.

Even the remnants of adrenaline from the game isn’t cutting it anymore.

“We’re going to the Meet Up,” Aiden announces to the guys.

“Fuck yeah!” Ronan fist-bumps Xan.

“You’re coming?” Cole asks me with a cautious tone.

I nod absentmindedly.

The Meet Up is Aiden’s way to keep me from heading down the other path, but there’s one small thing he forgot about.

I’m a King and we always get payback.

My gaze roams the locker room for Chris, but he must’ve left right after practice — in which he’s still as useless as shit.

I go to my bag — that’s also painted in red — and retrieve my phone.

Levi: Come to the Meet Up.

Then I throw the phone back in my bag, not waiting for an answer. If Chris knows what’s best for him, he’ll be there.

The guys start filtering out. Aiden stops and points at his locker, telling me silently to change with one of his spares.

I swear the little fucker smirks as he follows Cole and a very animated Ronan out.

“Daniel. A word.” I catch myself using the calm, deceptive tone Jonathan taught us and I inwardly curse myself.

He stops and watches his surroundings as if searching for something.

The rest of the team throw curious glances our way as the locker room empties.

Daniel might have been part of the team for two years, but I never had one-on-one words with him. I can count the number of times I actually talked to him. Sure he comes to Ronan’s parties and hangs out with the team, but we were never close.

But times change.

I sit on the bench and continue drying my hair. Daniel stands as close enough to the exit as possible while remaining in the locker room.

His build isn’t bad, but he doesn’t work his leg muscles for long. As a result, his stamina doesn’t allow him to play a ninety minute game from start to finish. That’s the only reason why he couldn’t snatch a starter’s position.

He’s fast, though, and he can fit as a right-back or a midfielder. Coach noticed that he did well in the summer camp. It only took a word from me to convince him that Sterling could use a shot as a starter in the next game.

“Are you ready for Saturday?” I ask in a friendly tone.

“Yeah.” His eyes light up.

“It’s one of the rarest chances you’ll get so make it count.”

“Will… do, Captain.” He appears relieved and relaxed now.

My chance to strike.

“That friend of yours… A… something?”

His easy-going demeanour disappears as he stiffens. “Astrid.”

“Right. Astrid.” Not that I can ever forget her name considering that she’s able to fuck up my entire future.

“She…” He trails off, seeming to weigh his words. “I’m sorry for whatever she’s done. She’s not bad, she’s just not originally from around here. She doesn’t know the etiquette well.”

I pause drying my hair. “She’s not?”

“She lived with her mum before Lord Clifford took

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