Ruthless Empire (Royal Elite 6)

In the caption, I write: Voted as the best father in the world by yours truly. #ProudDaughter #SebastianQueensForTheWin #GoTories

Whenever I post a pic with one of them, I feel guilty if I don’t follow up with a pic of the other one.

People say you get used to it with time — the double holidays, the double dinners, the double birthday celebrations — but you don’t. Not really.

Especially when one parent is lonely and the other is depressed.

I scroll further and find a picture from Aiden uploaded around one in the morning. It’s a black and white shot of his chessboard.

The caption says: The war has started. Nash?

Cole doesn’t use Instagram or any social media. All pictures of him can only be found on Aiden’s, Xander’s, and especially Ronan’s Instagram accounts.

Does Aiden’s post mean Cole paid him a visit last night? I squash that thought away before I can allow my heart to soak in it.

He wouldn’t have. That would mean he cares, and he doesn’t.

Or, rather, he does, but only if it’s part of his sick games.

I reread his text from yesterday, and the chest tightness I felt when I first saw it swallows me again.

I hate him.

We arrive at school and I thank Derek, then give him a spare bottle of juice on my way out. “Have a wonderful day.”

As soon as I’m out of the car, I lift my chin up, square my shoulders, and walk with my nose practically in the sky. I ignore the ones who tell me good morning and I pretend the world doesn’t exist.

If I talk to them, they’ll start thinking they can be my friends. No one can. That would mean they’ll get close enough to read through me, and I won’t allow that.

My phone vibrates with a text. I retrieve it as I go into the piano room. I have a competition coming up in a few days and I need to perfect my “Moonlight Sonata”. I already took a leave from my morning classes so I could focus on this.

Both my parents are going to be there and I need to do this well. No. I need to win.

The moment my eyes fall on the text, I stop in my tracks.

Unknown Number: Your lips looked beautiful painted in red. Why did you remove it?

I swallow, slowly doing a sweep of the school’s entrance, trying to see if anyone is watching or following me.

After I took the picture with Mum and she left, I removed the lipstick in her building’s lounge area. It means someone saw the post on Instagram and is now seeing me at school.

My shoulder blades snap together and a sense of foreboding slams into me.

Quickening my pace, I head towards the piano room on shaky legs. I place my bag on the chair, settle in front of the piano, take a deep breath, and let my fingers move over the keys.

The trembling fades with each note.

It’s almost like being thrust into a different world, but not really. As the notes escape the piano and get lost in the air, I’m in a peaceful world where the sun shines every day, not like a unicorn, once in a lifetime. In this world, my parents are together, Mum doesn’t have dark thoughts, Papa isn’t so busy, Helen isn’t so sad and…

Dark green eyes barge into my image and I want to chase it away, but it won’t go.

Something dainty wraps around my neck. My fingers miss a note and the sonata is interrupted by a noisy sound.

My head lifts to be greeted by those green eyes from my image. Have I somehow managed to conjure him into life?

Don’t be an idiot.

Then I notice the necklace he’s clicked around my throat. It’s dainty sterling and has a small butterfly pendant, its wings wrapped in an infinity symbol.