Ruthless Kings of Obsession (Leighton Royals University #3)

2. Beneath The Mask Of Perfection

Beneath The Mask Of Perfection

~ A RES~

No….

No fucking way.

The world stops making sense the moment we find Zander's body. He’s lying there at the end of the alleyway; bodies littering around, proving he not only put up a fight but had to be the last one standing…

Until he wasn’t.

Everything I've learned about keeping composure — every lesson from years of modeling where appearances mean everything - shatters like glass. I know I shouldn’t panic that I’m supposed to hop into gear like Matteo who’s already dropping to his knees, despite surely having a concussion, broken arm, and injured ribs.

Yet, here I am, trembling like a leaf.

No. No. No. This isn't happening.

I’m fighting hard to think this isn’t real. As though this is some foolish test. Heck, even be a part of some test in place of us attending this fucking ball.

That’s the least of our concerns.

My best friend lies motionless on the wet concrete, those normally vibrant green eyes staring lifelessly at the stormy sky above. We’re all completely drenched, but I can only imagine how long he’s been lying there.

In his own blood…all fucking alone as if there aren’t so many who care about him.

I also grasp that our Ruthles Maiden is missing.

Sweet Canary isn’t here.

I immediately knew it wasn’t her choice.

She’d never abandon Zander.

I have no doubt in my mind when it comes to that because they’re madly in love with each other. Even if they try to dim just how possessively beautiful their love is.

Thunder rolls overhead, but I can barely hear it over the roaring in my ears. I can barely focus on anything as I’m forced to see the situation unravel before me as the useless status I am.

I can’t help.

But I need to.

"Z-Zander?" My voice sounds foreign, stripped of its usual confidence, but no one dares pay mind because they’re focusing their energy on Zander. Doing something to bring him back to life.

Doing anything but standing here…

Rain soaks through my expensive suit as I stand frozen, watching Matteo and Marcus attempt CPR. It’s crazy how I bared amazing news — being recruited to one of the top modeling agencies globally — only to watch my fellow friend’s breathless fight to get Zander to breathe again.

My hands tremble at my sides, useless, just like how I feel.

I don't know how to save him…but I realize that’s a lie.

It’s not like I don’t know.

I’m scared.

Frightened down to the core to try and help and fuck everything up…because this isn’t my element of expertise. This isn’t what I can manipulate and take control of in the act of uncertainty.

Modeling, I can control with a mere switch in my gait or a tilt in my head. I can change various poses, expressions, clothing, and environments. I can change the lighting, whether rain or shine, and be successful in getting the final product I’m yearning for.

But this…

How does one change death?

For all my carefully crafted images, all the magazine covers and runway shows, I'm completely fucking helpless when it really matters. I can't even properly hold a gun — something Zander tried teaching me countless times after I failed my attempts with Aries.

Now it makes sense.

Why I’m the younger brother Aries protected from our merciless empire and the power that comes with it.

I always envied his strive and the favoritism he gets in situations like these, but unlike me who’s currently standing here like some sort of ghost, he would have been jumping into action like Matteo and Marcus who don’t think twice when a situation has altered entirely out of their control.

No matter what happens, they reclaim those reigns of power and whip them until they’re the ones riding on the path to victory.

“C’mon, Zayn!” Marcus curses. “Fuck. We need…we need Epinephrine. Fuck… it’s in my bag. It’s too far to go and come back.”

“Keep compressing,” Theo who’s on the phone urges, just as Matteo gives another blow of air into Zander’s mouth. They’re both giving this their all; Matteo struggling to catch his breath while Marcus is drenched in sweat and fighting hard to breathe out of exertion.

“H-How long has it been?” Marcus asks.

“Five minutes.” Theo’s voice sounded so concerned. I bet he feels helpless being so far away, and yet I’m here.

Present.

I can do something.

"Keep…going," Matteo orders through gritted teeth, his own injury forgotten as he breathes air into Zander's lungs. Seeing his right arm hanging uselessly makes my stomach turn, but it makes me realize that despite his injury, he’s still trying his best.

He is giving Zander his all, despite barely knowing him.

That’s what pushes away the pounding fear. What urges me to stop being a coward protected by game and fortune and to get my hands dirty for the sake of resurrection my best friend?

My fellow Ruthless King.

Yeah, I’m a broken fucker who has walked a more lavished and pampered life thanks to my bodyguard of an older brother for being the black sheep of the family, but I can’t remain a Ruthless King unless I stand up to my fears and allow my hands to soak in blood as my brothers have done.

We're all broken in some way, and it’ll only get worse.

And that’s okay.

For survival doesn’t mean perfection.

“Move.” My voice is surprisingly stern, despite how my insides flip in dismay and uncertainty. My stance forces them to look up and realize I’m standing right next to Marcus, ready to stop being a fucking coward and be of service.

To save one of our own… any way possible.

“Let me continue.”

“Ares…” Marcus tries to find an excuse worthy enough to stop me, but he’s spent. I can see how drained he is, which isn’t going to bring Zayn back from the dead. I can at least give it a shot.

Acknowledging how pressed on time we leave him no choice but to sigh and move aside.”

Dropping to my knees on top of Zander, I’m taking over compressions before my eyes briefly lock onto Matteo’s. Tears are spilling down his pale face, proving just how impactful this moment is on him.

I can only imagine the immense regret he’s feeling, despite not being close to Zander as we are. Despite that, the last week we spent together made it feel as though we’ve been friends for far too long.

There wasn’t an opportunity for me to admit it to them, or explain how calm and safe I felt in their company during a week at that private cottage with our Ruthless Queen, but now I see our lack of communication as the pros of our time together matched with how unique each of us is in our dynamic, is coming back to bite us in the ass.

Zander didn’t get to know how much he was loved. Cherished. Admired.

Reminded of how powerful he is as a Benedict and how amazing it was to see him rise to his birthright and juggle far too many responsibilities.

“Start. I’ll keep breathing into him,” he urges me.

With a nod, I blink away my own tears, feeling determined to bring back our friend. My hands position over Zander's chest, and I push down rhythmically, feeling ribs crack beneath my palms.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Each compression is a silent apology — for not being stronger, for not being able to protect Eva, for all the times I pretended to be more than I am.

“ZAYN!”

Keir’s voice booms from down the alleyway. I don’t know how he’s going to react seeing his brother, dead among bodies. The complex relationship between them, years of unspoken hurt and rivalry, might end without resolution.

“HERE!” Marcus takes the opportunity to call out.

Keir skids to a stop beside us, and the raw anguish on his face mirrors what I feel inside.

"Off!" he commands, and I scramble back, watching as he plunges a needle into his brother's neck. The precise movement speaks of medical training I didn't know he had, but then again I barely know much about Keir.

All I know is that he despises his older brother as if he’s the reason for their family’s demise.

"You crazy mother fucker," Keir's voice breaks as he takes over compressions. "You don't get to join our parents without me! Get the fuck back here!"

The naked emotion in his words strips away any pretense of their usual antagonism. This is a brother watching his only remaining family slip away.

“K-Keir?” A girl’s voice calls out, and I see Ishya and two other men at the end of the alleyway. They’re racing toward us, urgency in their expressions as they grasp what’s happening.

“Theo,” Matteo breathes into the phone, knowing Theo is still on the line, waiting for what his next order could possibly be.

As if I don’t know what he’s going to demand.

“Find. My. Wife.”

Three simple words, and yet it sends chills through me. I’m not the only one caught up in his order — Isha and her company also staring at Matteo as if he initiated some sort of death wish.

When you think about the power he carries and the connections in the palm of his hand, maybe he is asking for death to pay a visit if it means getting Eva back.

I notice how his eyes droop, and I don’t hesitate to lunge forward in time to catch Matteo as he completely collapses.

“Shit!” I curse and shake him. “Matteo? Matteo?”

“Fuck. Did he pass out?” Theo questions, still on speaker.

“He got injured during the game. Broken arm for sure and bruised ribs. He shouldn’t have even lasted this long,” I voice in urgency, but I’m returning my gaze to Keir, just as a gasp of breath ignites a round of spluttering sounds that proves one thing.

Zander’s alive.

I’m not the only one sighing in relief, but we’re already moving swiftly as Isha’s helping Keir who’s shaking with adrenaline as he takes in the reality that his brother is alive.

At least for now.

"We need to get to Eva,” I whisper, only remembering that tonight is also Ascension. “How the fuck are we going to do Ascension with two Kings down and a missing Maiden?

“You need to get Gemini,” Isha speaks up. “You need at least your Maiden present for Ascension or you lose your positions.”

Shit.

“We’ll think about it in the car,” Marcus huffs, as he looks to Keir, Isha, and her continued company. “I need you guys to take Zander and Matteo to Wright Medical Centre. They have a private institute ten minutes from this place. I’ll inform them of your arrival.”

“Wright Medical Centre?” Isha looks confused. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“Don’t have to,” he urges as he struggles to rise up. I can tell he’s exhausted after all this madness. Matched with the intense hockey game, I’m surprised he’s not down for the count. “Just take them there. They’ll get the top-of-the-line treatment on my orders.”

Isha looks over to me, and I simply nod in encouragement because, in this tense moment, I trust Marcus to aid us in any way he can.

He doesn’t gain anything from betraying us.

“We’ll get them there,” she assures us. “Get going. You have to save Gemini.”

She’s right.

“How are we going to track her?” I dare question because fuck. I have no tools on me that can help get some sort of signal on her.

“I’m working on it,” Theo assures me. “Take Matteo’s phone. I’ll guide you guys. There’s already a ride waiting for you a block away. It includes weapons and combat gear.”

Weapons…

The sudden idea of having to kill someone haunts me in the depths of my mind. Unlike Zander, Matteo, or even Domino, I never had to shed blood like them.

I always had Aries for that…

Yet now…I don’t have a choice.

Sweet Canary’s life is on the line.

“Got it,” I declare and rush to stand, looking one more time at my fellow Ruthless Kings who are unconscious.

Zander. Matteo.

They’re relying on us to get our Ruthless Queen back from our enemies’ clutches.

That’s what Domino is now.

An enemy who’s about to be chased, found, and murdered by us.

Murdered by me…

I keep repeating the scenario in my head, hoping to convenience myself that this is the only way to end this madness.

This odd obsession surrounding our Sweet Canary has caught the dark world’s attention.

Despite the repetition, I dare acknowledge what my heart begs for me to accept.

I’m not a killer…