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When I open my eyes again and peer out into the darkness, I feel like I’m standing on the edge of the world and I know that I’m moments away from losing my soul entirely.
Then I wait, the freezing cold ocean spray biting at my skin.
I don’t have to wait for long.
“I see you’re braver than I gave you credit for,” a male voice says from behind me. I stiffen, my fingers grasping hold of the knife still stuffed up inside my coat sleeve, but I don’t turn around. I don’t have to because the King steps up beside me and places his forearms on the wooden rail.
My heart fucking pounds so loudly I think I might pass out. Instead, I turn to face the man who was responsible for my mum’s death. For a few long seconds all I can do is stare into the face of my father. He has dark hair and olive skin like me, but that’s where the resemblance ends because there’s a darkness in his eyes that is cruel and unyielding, and just as black as his irises. Camden was right when he said the King can’t love. This man before me is nothing more than a stranger with a cold heart and blood on his hands. No amount of expensive clothes he’s wearing can cover up that fact.
“I’m surprised you came. I thought you’d have too much of your mother in you. She was weak. You, however, aren’t. I like that.”
“Where’s Pink?” I ask, ignoring his attempt to bait me with talk of my mum.
“She’s where she needs to be.”
The sound of laughter suddenly rings loud in my ears and the teenagers who were making out in a darkened corner walk right by us. They’re not Jan and Doug and I don’t know if that makes me feel relieved or not, given what I came here to do. The King’s calculating gaze slips towards the couple before he returns his attention to me.
“Teenagers are pathetic creatures, ruled by their hormones and ideals. They do stupid, irresponsible things because they’re not adult enough to make grown-up decisions,” he says, a dark smile pulling up his lips. I don’t say anything in response because I guess there’s a point to this. “Like Camden, for example. He turned your head, just like his mother turned mine. What did it for you, Asia? Was it those beautiful eyes he inherited from his mother? Or was it the fact he was as broken as she is? I can’t say I’m happy about your choice in men, but I do understand it. His sister was just as alluring too, pity I didn’t have a chance to get to know her better. She would’ve made a perfect replacement for her mother when I tire of her.”
“Fuck you!” I snap, realising too late that swearing at the King isn’t the smartest move I’ve made, then again, what difference does it make? By the end of our conversation either he’ll be dead, or I will.
His grin turns into a scowl. “Monk was right, you’re a feisty one. Quite the mouth on you.”
“And Monk’s an arsehole.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Yes, he is, but he’s also very malleable, gullible too. He’s good for only one thing…”
“And what’s that?” I ask, falling into his trap.
“Hurting people…”
I stiffen. My mouth goes dry and I can’t seem to form any words.
“Don’t worry, your little friend is bruise-free…for now,” he adds.
A moment passes where I want to launch myself at him and cut him good, but I’m not a fool. He’s taunting me, pushing me. I refuse to let him. I’m not going to get this opportunity again and I need to make sure I time this right.
“What do you want?” I say, allowing the hate in my voice to seep through. He needs to know how much I hate him and how far I’m willing to go to keep as calm as he is. There’s strength in remaining calm even when you’re faced with someone who’s doing everything to push you to react. Ford was right about that.
“What do you want?” I repeat.
“So many things, Asia, but only one that really counts…” he tips his head to the side and studies my face.
“And what’s that?”
“My Kingdom.”
“What?”His Kingdom?
But he ignores my question and raises his hand. I flinch when the cool leather of his glove presses against my cheek. “I can see why Monk hates you so. You are more a Bennett than he is. You have a fire in your soul that cannot be faked and the need for revenge that will make you spill blood. You’re strong,” he says, sounding impressed. “It’s a pity you’re a bastard child. I would have enjoyed teaching you the family business.”
“I’mnota Bennett,” I spit. “I’m Asia Chen!”
The King drops his hand and laughs. The sound is all too similar to Monk’s and it makes my skin crawl. My hand tightens around the tip of the blade. I feel the sharp edge dig into my skin, but I don’t care. As soon as I’m able, I’m going to fucking slice his neck open.
“You’remydaughter, Asia, and as such you carry our name. That makes you my property.” His voice lowers, as he dips his head so that he’s at eye level with me. I can feel the warmth of his breath against my face, and I try not to flinch as he stares right into my fucking soul, picking me apart with every second that passes. My hands shake as I allow the blade to slide slowly lower until my fingers are grasped tightly around the handle.
Shutting down every last emotion, I ready myself.
