Deviant King (Royal Elite 1)

However, the onslaught of a near-aggressive handshake from Jonathan catches me completely by surprise. Maybe his handshake is as strong as his business tycoon status. Or maybe this aggression is only directed towards me.

Either way, I don’t give weak handshakes.

I meet Jonathan King’s cold eyes and squeeze back as hard as my strength allows. My other hand screams with pain at holding all the tray’s weight, but there’s no way I’m bailing out first.

Something like contempt flashes on Jonathan’s blank face. At this moment, he looks so much like Aiden, it’s uncanny. Now, I know where the heir got his personality.

Jonathan King and his son are the type of people who crush while staring at their opponents in the eyes.

To say I’m not intimidated by the sheer power Jonathan exudes without talking would be a lie. However, I won’t cower away.

He can break my bones and I’ll still squeeze with the intact bones I have left.

“Dad.”

Aiden’s detached voice comes from the side. I was lost in my silent war with Jonathan that I didn’t sense his presence.

That’s a first.

&n

bsp; Jonathan’s sharp gaze slides from me to Aiden without breaking the handshake. I stare incredulously at the battle that erupts between Father and son.

Aiden is a carbon copy of the older King. It’s like a battle royale between a larger-than-life power and his younger self.

The king and his heir.

I’m not sure who’s winning or if there needs to be a winner, but the tension hangs in the air like a thick sheen of smoke.

Suffocating.

Mysterious.

Enthralling.

“Have fun with your party, Son.”

Just like that, Jonathan lets me go as smoothly and as predatory as a panther.

“Will do.”

Jonathan smiles like a refined, aristocratic gentleman. Not too welcoming, but also not repulsive. It’s conserved with a hint of the darkness that coats Aiden like a second skin.

The dark demons are in their damn genes.

After giving me another once over, Jonathan starts towards the entrance with domineering strides.

I face Aiden, thinking he’s watching his father like I just did.

Instead, Aiden’s full concentration is on the tray in my shaking hand. He snatches and carries it in his grasp without uttering a word or sparing me a glance.

He strides in the direction Margo and I were heading to.

I massage the hand that Jonathan nearly broke and fall in step with Aiden.

“What was that all about?” I ask.

Silence.