Steel Princess (Royal Elite 2)

You can do this, Elsa.

I ring the bell and glance at the screen. The butler’s face comes into view and he gives me a polite smile. “Miss Quinn, we weren’t expecting you until six.”

Well, shit. Of course, Aiden’s butler would be expecting me. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

I offer my widest smile. “Aiden is caught up at practice, so he told me to wait for him here. If it’s possible, of course.”

He’s silent for a second, and I expect him to tell me no since Aiden didn’t call him. However, the front gate buzzes open.

“Welcome, Miss Quinn.”

Phew.

I give him one last smile as I clutch my backpack’s strap and slip inside.

An eerie feeling creeps along my skin the more I walk through the silent garden. The rain soaks the trees, the grass, and the imposing building. Rivulets of the rain fall on the angel statue’s cheeks and it appears as if he’s crying.

That’s not creepy at all.

I came here numerous times before, but that was before I heard Jonathan tell Silver ever so eloquently that Aiden approached me for revenge.

That was before I learnt that Aiden has been using me.

That part still bugs the hell out of me.

If he hates me, if he only approached me for revenge, then why does he fuck me like he’ll die if he doesn’t? Why does he soothe me after my nightmares like he doesn’t like to see me hurt?

If this is all an act, then he deserves an Oscar.

Margo waits for me at the entrance of the front door. Her hands rest above each other on her stomach as she smiles.

“Hey, Margo.”

“Hey, Elsa.” She steps aside to give me walking room. “Come inside. It’s cold, let me prepare you something to drink.”

She takes my sweater, scarf, and umbrella. I try to help her, but she shoos me away.

Margo always makes me feel warm in this frigid, cold mansion.

It’s like she’s the only one who breathes life in here.

Aiden and his father surely don’t. I doubt Levi did either when he was living here.

I follow Margo to the kitchen and she launches into a string of questions about my health and if I’m eating properly as she prepares me a hot chocolate.

I try to answer as much as I can.

In no time, I’m sitting at the kitchen counter with the steaming drink in front of me and the scent of hot chocolate wafting in the air.

Margo stands behind the counter, fussing with potatoes.

“Is that for chips?” I ask.

“Those boys will start a riot if they don’t have their chips.” She shakes her head. “Especially Ronan.”

I smile at that. He’s certainly fanatic and possessive about his chips. You can have his car, but you can’t ask for his chips.

“They’re lucky to have you,” I tell her.