Rise of a Queen (Kingdom Duet #2) - Rina Kent Page 0,53
reason, his nearness always makes me feel safe in unknown places. Actually, that happens in all places.
He’s leaning back against the car’s leather seat, legs wide apart and his entire demeanour relaxed. My hand is nestled in his on his hard thigh. He hasn’t let me go — not during the flight and not after we got into the car. “I won it ten years ago from a Saudi prince in a poker game.”
“Poker?” I nearly shriek.
“Yes.”
“He must be devastated for losing it.”
“Not really. He has a few more islands scattered around the world.”
“What did you bet?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“If he bet an island, you must’ve put up something of so much value.”
He raises a brow. “And you want to know what I consider most valuable?”
“Sort of. What was it?”
“My son.”
“W-what? You bet Aiden?”
His expression remains the same. “That’s what I said.”
“How…how can you even bet a person?”
“It’s more common than you think.”
“I…I can’t believe you bet your own son — your only offspring. I don’t think I want to talk to you right now, or ever. And I’m totally telling Aiden so he knows what you’ve done. What if you’d lost, huh?” I poke his shoulder. “Huh?”
A smile breaks free across Jonathan’s beautiful lips. “I didn’t think you’d be this easily deceived.”
“You…you were joking?” That’s as rare as witnessing a mythical being.
“You think I would ever bet Aiden? He’s my only son.”
Phew. Deep down, I didn’t think he’d do that, but he also doesn’t joke. That’s the part that threw me off. “So what did you bet?”
“One of my subsidiaries.”
“I didn’t know you play poker.”
“I don’t.”
“You just said you won it in a poker game.”
“I only play when I know I can win. I don’t like unsure gambles.”
Considering Jonathan’s control-freak personality, that makes complete sense.
My attention returns to the road and the way the trees part as we pass through. “What’s the name of the island?”
“It’s under King Enterprises.”
“It should have a name of its own.”
“The prince called it a complicated Arabic name. It’s on the papers. If you’re so insistent on knowing it, I can call Harris.”
“You should name it something special to you. After all, not just anyone can own an island.”
“Huh.”
I’m not sure what he means by that, but it seems as if he’s never thought of that possibility. Jonathan is the type who doesn’t get attached to things like normal humans, and I guess that makes this whole suggestion pointless to him.
Oh well, at least I tried. I haven’t gotten to see most of the island yet, and it already looks like a small space cut from paradise.
Thoughts of why we’re here try to barge in. I think of Dad’s interview and his accusations, about the prosecution, media, and victims’ families.
The beauty surrounding me starts to vanish, its colours slowly turning to grey. This isn’t a holiday.
I’m running away — it’s as simple as that.
Jonathan releases my hand, letting it drop to his lap, and grips my thigh. It’s like he knows exactly where my mind went and is bringing me back to the present.
A strange type of warmth engulfs me as I fall into his presence. There’s something about his soft touch that, even if his features remain unreadable, I sense what he’s trying to relay.
Right now, it seems that he wants me comfortable above anything else.
We stop by a house in the hills that’s slightly hidden from below by tall trees.
It’s smaller than the King mansion, and it has a modern feel to it with its two-storey round architecture. The interior stairs are visible from the outside through the shiny glass walls.
“It’s different,” I tell Jonathan as we step out of the car.
“It’s the prince’s creation, not mine.”
The lack of Jonathan’s grandiose touch makes sense then. If it were up to my tyrant, he’d make it appear as intimidating as he is.
In every sense of the word.
Power isn’t only a tactic for Jonathan, it’s his philosophy in life.
From what I understand about his past, the way he lost his father made him merciless. Seeing his dad die of weakness made him take a figurative vow to never be in that position himself.
In a way, he tamed power and made it his best friend. They’re so intertwined now, as if they’re one being.
Jonathan grabs me by the waist as he leads me inside. Moses remains still as a stone in front of the car, arms crossed in front of him, one hand over the other. I smile back at him with a