Twisted Kingdom (Royal Elite 3)

I bring out my queen, and she smirks with sadism. Elsa just gave me a sadistic smirk. “Finally, dickhead.”

Her entire body language is sharp and concentrated. Fuck. She’s been slowly but surely transforming into a fighter. The challenge shines from her eyes in waves.

Why haven’t I played chess with her before?

This is nearly as erotic as fucking her. The power in her body, the boldness in her moves, and the melting of her defiance. Her mind clashing with mine is more euphoric than anything I’ve experienced before.

“You’re keeping your queen hidden, too, sweetheart. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

She grins, all mischievous and fucking beautiful. “If you’re far from the enemy, make him believe you’re near.”

Sun Tzu. She’s quoting her favourite book, The Art of War, and yes, I re-read it after she mentioned it’s her favourite book, just so I could imagine reading it from her perspective.

Am I too far gone for this girl?

Yes, probably.

“You’re such a nerd,” I play with her.

“This nerd will bring you down, King.” She rolls up the sleeves of her jacket, eyes sparkling and glinting like Christmas lights — and I don’t even like Christmas.

The door opens, pulling us away from the vicious battle.

Ethan strides inside and stops beside our board. He watches the game with a critical eye. Elsa lost all her pawns and a knight. I kept most of my pawns, but I lost a rook and a bishop.

“Interesting game,” Ethan says. “Too bad someone has to lose.”

My jaw clenches, easily reading the hidden meaning behind the words.

Ethan and Jonathan are at war to snatch a partnership with the Rhodes. In the end, one of them will lose.

When that day comes, neither Elsa nor I will ever be the same.

As soon as I arrive home, I head to the shower.

Nash and I agreed to meet so we can put a stop to the fucker Adam Herran.

Once I’m done with him, he’ll wish he never looked in Elsa’s direction, let alone touch her.

He threatened her life, and for that, his existence will be a payment.

Tit for tat and all that.

He’ll wish he was never fucking born.

Out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and another around my neck.

I stop at the threshold to the bathroom. Jonathan stands in the middle of my bedroom, his hands shoved in his trouser pockets.

He’s watching the walls as if it’s the first time he’s in here. It’s all squeaky clean. A bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. That’s all I need.

I barely spend time in this room anyway, so it doesn’t matter. The Meet Up, however, does. That’s where I would rather be.

“You went to Ethan’s house,” he says. It’s not a question which means he’s still watching me.

Shocker.

“I did,” I say, just to be a dick.