Ruthless Kings of Obsession (Leighton Royals University #3)

3. The Price Of Desperation

The Price Of Desperation

~ G EMINI~

Stay unconscious…play as close to dead as I can.

Every breath must be perfect.

Measured. Slow. Calculated.

The drug they injected me with should have knocked me out cold, but years of building immunity to various sedatives has its perks. A part of me is struggling to remember why I would even have such immunity, but the less I fight that nagging question in my pounding mind, the better.

I do have to thank Hannah, for that foresight.

She’s a comrade I’m sure no one will see coming.

I’ll have to explain myself to Matteo if I get out of this madness alive, but as of now, I can’t pay mind to that either.

I need to survive.

However, I’m frightened.

Not regarding my own safety, but I’m frightened because I feel in the depths of my gut something is very wrong.

Where’s Zander? Is he here? Was he left behind?

It’s taking everything in me to not think about the rooted question that begs to reach the surface of my mind and nag me as desperately as my need to continue breathing at this tamed pace.

Is my Ruthless King alive? Or…or…

No.

I can’t do it.

The banging in my head only grows more merciless when I attempt to think of such a negative circumstance.

To dare believe that can be a reality.

Yet…that sensation of dread hasn’t left me. Since I’ve awakened and acknowledged my predicament, I can’t stop thinking of that last image of Zander.

On his knees, completely frozen and drenched in sweat after fighting so fucking hard with me.

He can’t…

He can’t be gone.

I’d lose my fucking mind if he’s taken from me.

Breathe.

Slow. Calculated.

I can’t be of help if I panic and wake in the hands of the enemy. This moment needs me to be silent and “unconscious” until we reach our destination.

The next act of my diabolical plan.

At least, it can only be as menacing as it is if my psychotic love is alive.

For if he isn’t…

“They will pay if he’s dead.”

There it is.

The voice.

Or maybe it’s voices.

I’ve been trying not to acknowledge the woman speaking to me. Reminding me of our game plan. She’s emotionless. Sounds like me but without a pinch of tone. Just a void that yearns for my mental acknowledgment.

To whisper the demise of every person with a beating heart who dares harm what I call mine.

We allowed it to happen once.

When I found a set of parents who smiled back at me with so much pride.

There were no loose ends back then. Nothing to prove of gain with my happiness and success. Just witnessing my recovery…witnessing the act of prevailing whenever I could show them my accomplishments, made them smile so fucking wide.

Happy.

I was happy.

Until it all burned down.

“He’s the puppet hiding the puppeteer. He deserves to be on his knees. Begging for our rise. Yearning for our redemption!”

It’s hard to comprehend what the voices are trying to say.

Redemption? Begging? What does it all mean?

"This is the beginning of our rise. To claim vengeance at the peak of our sinister glory. The world will see. They’ll all be forced to see. Bully the innocent and watch them taint into wicked vessels. They want a Ruthless Queen. They’ll enjoy meeting the one who will rise and claim it all.”

I remain limp in the leather chair they've strapped me to, head lolled to one side as if unconscious. The restraints are tight enough to bite into my skin, but that pain helps keep my mind sharp.

"Fix this!" Domino's voice cracks with hysteria. I can tell he’s pacing before me because his footsteps are on their own rampage, as though walking any faster would reverse the damage done. The damage I’ve caused . "Fix this NOW!"

The sound of his expensive shoes clicking against concrete echoes through what I assume is a warehouse. Has to be somewhere abandoned where no one will think much about about. Must be at least far from Leighton University. Far from any of their establishments.

An untraceable, abandoned place that’s off the grid.

The air smells of motor oil and rust — an industrial space only used for heinous murders that have yet to be solved. Will I be one of those victims? Murdered and dumped here until years go by and my remains trigger an investigation that finds many others who suffered the same fate?

Just stay still. Listen. Learn.

"Do you see this shit?!" He's practically screaming at his phone now. "It's everywhere! Twitter, Instagram, fucking ESPN! 'Leighton Hockey Star Exposed in Sex Scandal'. They're calling me a murderer!"

It’s hard to not smile at that revelation.

To see how fast social media works in my favor. I knew it would spread like wildfire, but to reach ESPN proves how big of a deal all of this is.

Perfect.

A harsh laugh comes through the speaker — distorted, mechanical.

The masked voice I've heard before in my nightmares.

It makes goosebumps crawl down my skin, while half of me has no clue who this individual on the other end of the phone is. He’s clearly important if Domino is talking to him while his life is going to shits in real-time, but what’s my recognition have to do with this individual.

What connection does he have to me that I can’t recall?

"Isn't that what you are?" the voice taunts. "Poor Flex. Such a tragic end, burning alive like that. Tell me, did you watch the live feed with everyone else?"

I fight to keep my breathing steady as the image of Flex's body going up in flames flashes through my mind.

The way the fire consumed him while thousands watched in horror.

My revenge...but at what cost?

"I didn't... that wasn't..." Domino's footsteps stop abruptly and I dare to assume he’s looking at my way menacingly. I can just feel the intensity of his gaze from here, despite my lack of sight. How he must wish to strangle me despite my feigned unconsciousness . "Just tell me you can erase it. All of it. I don't care how much it costs."

I can only wonder how the hell is he going to erase this.

There are probably millions of people downloading this by the second. Saving it just in case it gets wiped from the internet. Even if he finds a way to remove as many copies of the digital footprint from the world, it won’t simply “disappear”.

That’s not how life works.

Not in this world of digital chaos.

"Money?" The masked voice sounds amused. "Oh, my naive boy. Some debts require far more than mere currency to settle."

The sound of furious typing fills the air as Domino presumably scrolls through more social media. His breathing grows more erratic with each passing second.

"NHL scouts are retracting their offers," he reads aloud, voice trembling. "University board calling for immediate expulsion... What the fuck? They can't do this! I OWN that fucking school!"

They work fast when it comes to ensuring their names aren’t run through the rigger.

That’s why scandals on any level of scrutiny can be the end of one’s entire life.

Their career, relationships, and future.

"Correction," the voice cuts in. "Your father owns it. And after tonight's display, I wonder how long he'll continue acknowledging you as his heir." The voice chuckles and dares to add, “Oh right. You’re not the first in line in that department either, huh?”

A crash — something being thrown against a wall — echoes around us.

Glass shattering. Grunting and screaming. I already catch the scent of blood. Metallic stench that will only grow stronger by the second.

"I'll fucking kill her," Domino snarls. I feel his presence looming over me, his breath hot against my face. "This is all your fault, you manipulative bitch. Always trying to ruin me. Ever since we were kids."

Since we were kids...

It’s all but amusing because wasn’t his mission to ruin me.

To destroy my life for being a pathetic accomplice in his family life.

If only I hadn’t been brought into the Leighton’s clutches.

If only I was allowed to stay away and enjoy life as the nerdy girl who wore boyish clothes and just wanted to study in peace.

If only he’d given up his obsession with his Iva. The pigtail, glasses-wearing tomboy who had to enjoy watching cry and whimper for his mercy any chance he got.

All he had to do was stay away.

“If he’d left us alone, he wouldn’t be experiencing all this vengeful mayhem. But no. He was far too obsessed with ruining our lives. That’s why it’s our time to shine. Our time to destroy what he’s ‘worked’ so diligently to build.”

Giggling voices bounce against the walls of my subconscious, and I have to fight this nagging urge to giggle manically, despite the obvious fact I’m unconscious.

"Interesting choice of words," the masked voice muses. "Considering you were the one who started this game of psychological warfare. How old was she when you first decided to break her? Thirteen? Fourteen?"

There’s silence that only encourages him to chuckle further.

“No. It was far younger than that. An innocent child enters such a grand place after being sold out of debt and deal breakers. You could have had her the way you wanted, you know? Could have made her fall for you.”

The idea sounds sick to any individual with a proper mindset, but to me, I dare to say he’s right.

For I did like him.

A lot more than one should when the one you like abuses you every chance he gets.

“Or maybe she was in love with you,” the voice continues in awe. “You two are so fucked up by trauma that you were falling in love far too hard. Yet, you’re from two opposite spectrums of the world peering in. The popular Headmaster son of one of the richest empires is matched with the poor orphaned girl taken in out of pity and remorse. Good grades, a nerdy appearance, and a tomboy at it. I’m sure you liked that. Seeing how good she looked in boy clothes and the mere idea of her being a male. Made you hard, didn’t?”

“SHUT IT! I-I-I-”

“Don’t roll that way? Funny when you’ve had crushes on so many. You joined hockey so you can see all those cocks, didn’t you?”

“No! It’s not! I actually like the sport, dammit.”

“And yet you fucked around and found out,” he declares. “Your career that could have set you up for life, all going down the drain. A shame really, but you know this all started because of your obsession with her. This woman seems to be catching everyone’s eye for her cunning mind. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, but I wonder…what change made her so brilliantly cunning. Was it your bullying that made her snap in the head? Or was it something else? Something more.”

"I don't... that's not..."

"Oh? Having trouble remembering? Should I refresh your memory? The cigarette burns? The attempted paralysis? All those little 'accidents' that kept happening around sweet little Iva?"

My heart pounds so hard I worry they'll notice.

Those memories he speaks of — fragments I've tried so hard to piece together — surge forward like a tidal wave.

The pain. The fear. The helplessness.

What concerns me now is how the fuck he knows about any of this?

Does he know my Father? Mother? Leighton himself or even Joaquin? He must be someone of importance to have this intel like it’s some free information he can acquire from the newspaper for daily entertainment.

All my trauma, out in the open like drying laundry on a clothing line..l.

"That's different," Domino dismisses, but his voice wavers. "She deserved it. Always acting so fucking perfect. Teacher's pet. Father's favorite. Even after everything, they still chose her over me! They’ll always choose her over me!"

"And now the world sees you for what you truly are," the voice says coldly. "A sadistic, entitled child who never learned there are consequences to his actions."

"FUCK YOU!" Domino roars. "You don’t know shit. Don’t know fucking anything. She’s probably got into your head too, hasn’t she? Is her money talking now? She used Benedict’s dollar bills to pay for your cooperation?!”

“You wish she did,” the voice admits. “You hate that they’re in love. A passionate connection everyone can see is making them stronger than ever. It got the underdogs and anyone in the underground whispering as to what will happen with Leighton Senior having every intention of marrying your sweet Iva on the surface while Benedict has every intention of keeping her between his sheets, warming him up every night and chasing away all those sinister demons in the depths of his mind.”

The voice hums, the sound so deep, I can only assume they’re a male.

“But things are changing, aren’t they? Will it make your model friend suddenly realize how protective he’s been with that bodyguard brother of his? Or is that lab boy, who will probably find the cure to cancer faster than the government attempts to hide its origin in the depths of their underground, finally get a chance with the girl that got away?”

He knows too much.

Why does he know so fucking much?!

My head is pounding, making it hard to keep breathing so smoothly. I can tell my breath has hitched, but all this information is overwhelming me.

“Get back to the point!” Domino snaps. “Are you going to help me or not? Because I swear to god, I'll paint these walls with her brain matter if you don't fix this RIGHT NOW!"

Something cold presses against my temple — the barrel of a gun. I force myself to remain perfectly still, though every instinct screams at me to fight.

A long pause follows, filled only by Domino's ragged breathing.

“Go ahead,” he dares. “Pull the trigger. I’m sure you’ve envisioned doing that for so many years, and yet each time you get a chance you struggle to make that final move.”

“Your taunts won’t work on me,” Domino growls. “I can blow her brains off right now.”

I dare to swallow hard, hoping that if this is the way I’m supposed to end, it’s as quick as it can be.

Painless if I’m getting a shot to the head.

“Then do it.”

Silence drifts in the hair, and I can only focus on how the pounding is making me feel sick to my stomach. I wish my mind would give me a second or two and my brain wasn’t pounding like a raging drum.

Beggers can’t be choosers.

“I’ve wondered if the real obsession isn’t solely about her need to ruin you,” he ponders as if this is some new equation. “But revolves around your desire to continue to hurt her. Ruin her. Obessess with her existence and ensure you’re the one to make her miserable.”

When Domino doesn’t say anything, he just chuckles – the voice less mechanical and extremely deep. I can only imagine an aged man sitting at an office desk, his phone in hand.

“Obsessed with one another and won’t dare truly kill each other. Isn’t that such a wonderful type of stepsibling love?”

“Just STOP fucking analyzing shit and HELP ME!” Domino snarls.

"Very well," the masked voice finally says. "I'll see what can be done to... minimize the damage. I can’t rid of the digital footprint it has left behind. It won’t just poof and be on its way. You have to ride the waves to gain your redemption,” he notes. “Which may mean you need your stepsister than you'll dare admit.”

“I don’t fucking need her!”

“You will because between the two of you, she took the cunning genes of her Mother and the manipulative tendencies of your shared Father,” the masked man huffs, almost as if he’s annoyed by Domino’s lack of patience. “The only thing you two both have in common is that multi-personality bullshit brewing.”

“Multi…I…I don’t have that! I’m not fucking retarded!”

“Yet one minute you’re madly in love with the woman you’re pressing a gun to her head and the next minute you wish to wipe her off the face of the earth,” he sighs almost dramatically. “I’d be exhausted trying to love you, let alone like you.”

“I didn’t ask for your fucking opinions on my life!” Domino snaps and even pulls down the safety. “I can finish this here and now!”

“Kill her and you’ll be losing more than just your career, boy.” That doesn’t even sound like a threat. It sounds like an order. “She’s the only reason why I haven’t sent my own boys to destroy and stripe you of every type of line of power you think you muster.”

“W-Who’s fucking side are you on?!”

“On the winning side,” he declares. “And as of now, your dearest cunning sister who’s the current Ruthless Queen at Leighton is the one who’s going to aid you in getting out of this predicament if you’re able to tuck away that prideful cock of yours and listen to fucking orders!”

That seems to shut him up.

“Now. You’re going to lower that gun, and remove those straps from her wrist.”

“Why the fuck will I free her? The moment she wakes up, she’ll make a run for it.”

“If you can’t manage to keep her restraint without physical straps to lower her chances of beating you up, you’re not the man I wish to help,” he reveals. “You’re not a weak bastard, are you?”

“N-No!”

“Then stop wasting my precious time. I have an Ascension to attend, which by the way, you should be attempting to participate in seeing as you want your Ruthless King position back. Though, I doubt you’d be able to get it unless someone wants you to suffer even more.”

“How would I suffer getting the title that was stolen from me?” He huffs.

“Stop asking stupid questions thinking we’re in the same league for me to answer them,” he complains. “We’re not equals. Not even close. This privilege to even speak to me is thanks to your Father who actually carries an ounce of pity for you.”

Our Dad…

Meaning Leighton is helping him?

"That fucker wouldn’t help me.”

“If that was true, you would have been rid off this earth a long time ago,” the masked man declares. “Honestly, he must have some sort of patience for your stupidity and immense pride for if I was plagued with such a useless imbecile as a potential heir, I’d be at the church, praying for a miracle that will end your life faster than I could with my own hands.”

Ouch.

That means this man is older. Wiser. It’s not Joaquin. He wouldn’t betray Mother or Leighton like this. Who can it be?

I need to do research. Who was in Leighton, Iva, and Prescott’s circle way back when they were Ruthless Kings and Queen?

Is it someone who was just as close to getting what they yearned for when attending Leighton University?

We must figure this out…for he’s an enemy.

A trickster hiding in the shadows.

And part of me is thinking Domino is but another pawn in this masked man’s ultimate plan…

A plan that can ruin us all.

“Your time is up, but understand this,” he announces. “When I come to collect my due, there will be no negotiation. No mercy. Are you prepared for that level of commitment?"

As if Domino cares about that shit.

He doesn’t think with his brain.

He thinks with his emotions, which includes his cock at times.

"Yes, fuck, anything!" Domino's desperation is palpable. "Just make it all go away."

"As you wish." A dark chuckle. “I’ll get to work.”

“Thank the fuck!” Domino huffs loudly, and I can hear he’s pacing again.

"Oh, and Domino?” the mast voice calls out to him. “Try not to kill your bargaining chip before I arrive. Even unconscious, she's worth far more alive than dead."

“Fine!” Domino snarls through grit teeth, just as I hear the jingle of metal. I feel the leather straps from my wrist seemingly drop, but I remain as still as a statue.

Keep playing ‘dead’.

Breathe slow.

Steady.

"Fucking bitch... ruining everything... make you pay..."

His words dissolve into incoherent rambling as he resumes his pacing. I dare to peek through my lashes, catching glimpses of his disheveled appearance. His perfectly styled hair is wild from running his hands through it. The proud hockey jersey is torn and stained.

How the mighty have fallen.

I don’t think he realizes he hasn’t hung up on the phone yet. Something he seems to do a lot as if the conversation has ended.

I doubt that.

"Fuck... fuck... FUCK!" Each word is punctuated by his fist hitting something solid. "Twenty-six million views... they're all watching... all laughing..."

I almost feel pity.

Almost.

But then I remember every cruel word, every calculated torment, every moment he stood by while I suffered.

This is just the beginning, stepbrother dear.

Let him spiral into madness while he waits for his mysterious savior. Let him taste the fear he so often inflicted on others.

Because when my Kings find us - and they will find us - there won't be enough favors in the world to save him from what comes next.

The real debt to be paid isn't his.

It's mine.

And I intend to collect with interest.

“By the way,” the masked voice speaks suddenly, and I bet it makes Domino flinch with how his shoes skid across the floor in a screechy spike of noise

“Fuck! You’re still on the line?”

“Did you think that was necessary?” he ignores Domino’s comment completely, getting to the point.

“W-What?”

“Benedict.”

My heart stills at the mention of Zander’s surname.

Domino doesn’t say anything, which makes my heart begin to trash against my chest.

No.

Don’t think ahead.

Let him finish his ploy.

"I…” Domino begins but he can’t say anything more.

Which means one thing…

One damn thing that has my eyes snap open to watch how he’s parallel from me, ten steps away, holding the phone in his grasp while his eyes lock on mine.

They widen in surprise, while I widen as I take in those familiar lines across his face. I’ve known him long enough to know that expression. What it means in all of this madness.

Guilt.

“You just had to kill him, huh?”

Silence.

Pure silence.

Nothing dares move.

Breathe.

All I can do is repeat those words in my head.

You just had to kill him.

Just had to kill him.

Had to kill him.

To kill him

Kill him.

Him.

My Zander.

My Zayn.

My world.

Mine.

Mine…

MINE!

“Guess we’ll see which one of you is more sinister when switched,” he declares quietly, and I can finally grasp a hint of emotion in the depths of his voice. The immense amusement of a gambler ready to make his grand move. “My bet is on my boy’s Evergreen.”

My boy’s Evergreen.

Evergreen.

The line goes dead before Domino can respond, but neither of that matters because all I can see is red.

Domino sees it.

The manic in me that’s been awakened.

It’s the first time in a long while I’ve seen fear in his eyes.

"Iva…” he trails off as he slowly raises his hands up in surrender, but we’re far from that.

Far past that.

My Ruthless King is dead…

And it’s time for me to burn this world down.