Ruthless Kings of Obsession (Leighton Royals University #3)

25. The Past That Revealed The Present

The Past That Revealed The Present

~ M ATTEO~

Two weeks after the incident that nearly shattered our world, the private recovery room at Wright Medical Centre has become an unofficial gathering spot for the Ruthless Kings. The space feels more like a luxury hotel suite than a hospital room, thanks to Marcus's influence – plush armchairs, ambient lighting, and enough expensive medical equipment to fund a small clinic.

Zander looks better than he has any right to after taking two bullets to the chest. The color has returned to his face, though dark circles under his eyes suggest sleep remains elusive despite the medication. He's propped up against a mountain of pillows, idly flipping through his phone while the rest of us lounge around like we don't all have empires to run.

"Where's Moonflower?" Ren asks suddenly from his perch by the window, his teal and black hair catching afternoon sunlight. "Haven't seen her since breakfast."

The nickname makes everyone pause. Ares looks up from his tablet where he's been reviewing upcoming photoshoots. Marcus stops organizing whatever complicated medication schedule he's created. I set aside the contract I've been pretending to read.

"Moonflower?" Ares repeats, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised. "Why do you call her that?"

Ren's answering smirk carries hints of secrets none of us are privy to. "That's between me and her," he says with deliberate casualness. "But I'm curious – what do the rest of you call her? Besides her actual name, obviously."

"Sweet Dynamite," Zander answers immediately, a fond smile playing at his lips. Despite his injuries, there's still something dangerous in the way he says it – like he's sharing something precious but deadly.

"Sweet Canary," Ares admits, setting his tablet aside completely. The nickname sounds oddly soft coming from someone who recently killed a man to protect her.

I can't help my own smile as I offer: "Sweet Precious Gem."

All eyes turn to Marcus expectantly. He fidgets with his lab coat – a habit from childhood he's never quite broken. "Pigtails," he mutters, then quickly adds when Ren makes a face, "Or Evergreen."

"Sweet Pigtails sounds terrible," Ren declares, wrinkling his nose. "Plus, what happens when her hair isn't in pigtails? Bit limiting, don't you think?"

Marcus's pout would look ridiculous on anyone else, but somehow he makes it work. "That's why I also use Evergreen," he grumbles, clearly defensive about his choice of nicknames.

"Evergreen?" I lean forward, genuinely curious. In all our years of friendship, I've never heard the story behind that particular name. "That's an interesting choice."

Before Marcus can answer, a muffled "puppy" emerges from somewhere in the vicinity of Zander's bed. We all freeze, exchanging confused looks until Zander's signature manic grin spreads across his face. With exaggerated care, he lifts the edge of his blanket to reveal Eva curled tightly against his less-injured side, somehow having made herself small enough to be completely hidden from casual observation.

"Jesus Christ," Ares breathes, professional composure cracking slightly. "How long has she been there?"

"Since the nurse's last round," Zander says proudly, like a kid showing off a particularly clever magic trick. His hand finds her silver hair, stroking it gently. "My Sweet Dynamite's gotten very good at strategic hiding."

"The fact that she can make herself that tiny is actually impressive," Ren muses, studying how she's managed to tuck herself perfectly against Zander's frame. "Though probably not great for her spine."

"Worth it," comes Eva's muffled voice, followed by what might be a yawn. She doesn't emerge from her hiding spot, seemingly content to remain curled against her King like a particularly dangerous house cat.

"So," Zander redirects our attention to Marcus, though his hand continues its gentle rhythm through Eva's hair, "Evergreen? There's got to be a story there."

Marcus shifts uncomfortably under our collective scrutiny. "It's not really?—"

"Oh no," Ren cuts him off, grinning. "You're one of the newest additions to this little brotherhood. Consider story time part of your initiation."

"Technically," Marcus argues, "you're newer than me. I've known her since childhood."

Ren's laugh carries no real humor. "Oh, I'm just temporary," he says, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Trust me, I can read a room. You're all obviously possessive, stalking psychopaths who'd probably kill to keep your positions." His grin grows sharper. "I'm just here to play my part until the next Ascension. No need to worry about long-term competition from me."

An uncomfortable silence falls over the room as we process his words. He's not wrong – the possessiveness we feel toward Eva goes beyond normal protective instincts. We're all broken in our own ways, all slightly unhinged when it comes to our Queen.

Even Zander's casual stroking of Eva's hair carries an edge of ownership that would probably frighten normal people. But then again, normal people wouldn't understand how perfectly our damaged pieces fit together.

"Plus," Ren adds with another dangerous smile, "I like my organs where they are. And judging by the looks you're all giving me right now, sharing too much history with your Queen might result in some creative rearrangement of my internal anatomy."

"Eva," Zander nudges her gently with his good arm, "want to explain why Marcus calls you Evergreen?"

The only response is deep, even breathing from beneath the blanket. Marcus frowns, moving closer to the bed. "Did she actually fall asleep?"

"She does that," Ren muses with familiar fondness. "Always been a pretty deep sleeper, especially when she feels sa?—"

The collective death glares he receives could probably freeze hell. Zander's hand stills in Eva's hair, his expression shifting from playful to predatory in an instant. Ares straightens in his chair, model's perfection giving way to something more dangerous. Even I feel my jaw clench at the casual way he references their past intimacy.

"Whoa, hey," Ren raises his hands again, nervous laughter not quite hiding his sudden awareness of danger. "Just speaking as the innocent, harmless ex here. No threat to anyone's position, remember?"

Marcus sighs heavily, turning toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcase the setting sun. The golden light catches his dark blue hair, making it shimmer like deep water. "She was my Evergreen because that's what she brought to my life," he says quietly, effectively diffusing the tension. "A sense of constant renewal, of life persisting despite everything trying to kill it."

Something in his tone makes us all pause. Even Zander's protective posture softens slightly as he watches our brother stare into the fading daylight.

"When she first came into my life," Marcus continues, his reflection in the glass showing an expression I've rarely seen – raw, unguarded, almost vulnerable, "it felt like everything finally moved in the right direction. Like maybe life could actually be good, you know?"

He presses his forehead against the cool glass, and for a moment I see the boy he used to be – brilliant but scared, carrying weights no child should have to bear. "My parents both had cancer," he says softly. "It runs in the family. Every doctor's appointment, every test result – I lived in constant fear that they'd disappear like morning fog, leaving me alone with all these half-finished research projects and unanswered questions."

The room grows very still. Even Eva's breathing seems quieter, though she remains hidden beneath Zander's blanket. The sunset paints everything in shades of amber and gold, making the moment feel suspended in time.

"Then this girl with pigtails shows up in my life," a small smile plays at Marcus's lips, though his eyes remain distant. "This force of nature who somehow made everything seem possible. She'd sit in the lab with me for hours, asking questions, making observations that sometimes led to breakthrough realizations." His hand comes up to trace patterns on the glass. "She made me believe I could actually help my parents, could find solutions where others saw only dead ends."

Ren shifts in his chair, his previous playfulness is completely gone. "Did you?" he asks softly. "Help them?"

Marcus's reflection shows a flash of something complicated – pride mixed with fear, triumph touched by uncertainty. "I found a temporary cure," he admits, the words barely above a whisper. "Or at least a method that put them both into remission. But I had to keep it secret."

"Why?" The question comes from Ares, his perfect features arranged in genuine confusion.

"Because," Marcus turns from the window, his eyes holding shadows deeper than any of us expected, "some cures are more dangerous than the diseases they fight."

The implications of that statement hang heavy in the air as the sun continues its descent, painting long shadows across the expensive hospital room. I study Marcus's face, seeing new depths to the boy who's been part of our world since childhood. How many secrets has he carried? How many breakthroughs has he hidden for reasons we don't yet understand?

The silence stretches, broken only by Eva's soft breathing and the steady beep of Zander's monitors. Each of us lost in thoughts about the price of knowledge, the weight of secrets, and the unexpected ways our lives have become intertwined.

"She was my Evergreen," Marcus says again, his voice stronger now though still touched by memory, "because she gave me hope when everything else promised only endings. She made me believe in possibilities, in futures that weren't just about loss and decay." His smile carries echoes of old pain. "Even when I thought I'd lose everything, she remained constant – like those trees that stay green no matter what season tries to strip them bare."

"What changed?" I ask into the heavy silence, watching Marcus's reflection in the darkening window. "If you were so close, what made the difference?"

His smirk carries no warmth as he turns to face me. "Your brother."

The name doesn't need to be spoken – we all feel Domino's presence like a shadow in the room. I watch various expressions of displeasure cross my brothers' faces. Even Zander, usually careful to maintain neutral expressions around the topic of our newest King, can't quite hide his instinctive frown.

Our eyes collectively drift to Eva's sleeping form, still curled impossibly small against Zander's side. Her lips are slightly parted in genuine rest – the kind of vulnerable peace she rarely shows when conscious. The sight makes something in my chest ache, remembering all the times Domino stole such moments from her.

Marcus pulls something from his lab coat pocket – a small collection of hair bows, faded with age but clearly preserved with care. The pastel colors look strange against his clinical white coat, like butterflies landed on snow.

"I started hanging out with Domino because I wanted to be popular," he admits, letting the bows dangle from his fingers. "Known. Accepted." His laugh holds no humor. "When you grow up watching your parents battle cancer, you learn pretty quickly who shows up and who disappears. Who brings casseroles and who suddenly can't return phone calls."

He moves away from the window, pacing the length of the room with restless energy. "My parents were brilliant researchers, but they were also introverts. When they got sick, their social circle proved embarrassingly small. No support system, no friend network, just..." he gestures vaguely, "empty halls and quiet rooms and me trying to fill all the spaces they couldn't anymore."

"So you thought popularity would protect you," Ren observes quietly, all traces of his usual playboy facade gone. "Build a network before you needed one."

"Stupid, right?" Marcus's smile is self-deprecating as he continues his pacing. "But back then it made perfect sense. If I hung out with the 'cool kids of the block' as Eva used to call them, maybe I'd have people to lean on when things got hard." He stops near Zander's bed, watching Eva sleep. "Instead, I just became another one of her tormentors."

The bows swing gently from his fingers, catching the last rays of sunlight. "I started following Domino's lead," he continues, voice dropping lower. "Teasing her. Pushing her away. Telling myself it was necessary, that popularity required sacrifice, that she'd understand someday."

His pacing resumes, more agitated now. "It only got worse because..." he swallows hard, "well, because I got sick too."

The admission lands like a physical blow. Ares straightens in his chair, perfect posture betraying tension. Ren's usual smirk disappears completely. Even Zander's hand stills in Eva's hair, his eyes narrowing with new understanding.

"The family curse," Marcus explains, though we didn't ask. "The same cancer that stalked my parents decided to take up residence in my bones. Fourteen years old and suddenly I'm the one in hospital beds, watching everyone's faces for signs of who'll stay and who'll run."

He holds up the bows, letting them catch the fading light. "She used to wear these," he says softly. "Different color every day, always perfectly matched to whatever she was wearing. Said they made her feel pretty even when Domino's words made her feel worthless."

The memory seems to pain him physically. "Then one day, Domino decided they made her look too childish. Said if she wanted to be taken seriously, she needed to grow up." His knuckles whiten around the bows. "So I helped him steal them. All of them. Every single bow she'd collected over years."

"Why?" The question escapes me before I can stop it.

"Because I was scared," he admits, finally stopping his restless movement. "Because I thought if I didn't prove my loyalty to Domino's group, they'd abandon me when the cancer got worse. Because it's easier to be cruel than to admit you're terrified of dying alone."

Silence falls as we process this revelation. Outside, the sun finally surrenders to darkness, leaving us in the soft glow of hospital lights. Eva shifts slightly in her sleep, pressing closer to Zander as if seeking warmth.

"She cried," Marcus continues, staring at the bows like they hold answers to questions he hasn't asked. "Not the dramatic sobs Domino usually tried to provoke. Just... quiet tears. Like she expected nothing better from me anymore."

His fingers trace one particularly faded bow – pale pink with tiny silver stars. "The next day she came to school with her hair down. No more pigtails. No more bows. No more of that innocent joy she used to carry so naturally." He closes his eyes, pain evident in every line of his face. "I told myself it was for the best. That I was helping her grow up, helping her understand how the world really works."

"But you kept the bows," Zander observes quietly, his hand resuming its gentle motion through Eva's hair.

"I kept everything," Marcus admits. "Every bow, every note she ever passed me in class, every picture we took in the lab. Like somehow preserving the evidence of our friendship would make my betrayal less real."

He opens his eyes, and there's something haunted in their depths. "The worst part? She still came to visit me in the hospital. Still brought her homework to do beside my bed, still asked questions about my research, still treated me like I mattered." A broken laugh escapes him. "Even after everything, my Evergreen kept growing, kept persisting, while I..." he trails off, gesturing to himself, "I just withered."

The question forms before I can stop it, sparked by something nagging at the edges of my awareness. "Why doesn't she seem to remember any of this?" I study Marcus's troubled expression. "When she talks about you, it's always just 'Pigtails.' Nothing about the labs, the research, the friendship you're describing."

The atmosphere in the room shifts perceptibly. Even Eva seems to grow more still in her sleep, as if her unconscious mind senses the weight of what's coming.

Zander's hand pauses in her hair again, his eyes narrowing with dangerous interest. Ares sets aside his tablet completely, all pretense of distraction abandoned. Ren leans forward in his chair, previous playfulness entirely gone.

Marcus stands frozen, the collection of faded bows dangling from his fingers like fragments of a broken past. The hospital lights cast strange shadows across his face as he stares into nothing, lost in memories none of us can see.

The silence stretches until it feels like glass about to shatter. Outside, night presses against the windows like a living thing, waiting to hear what secrets will spill in this sterile room that's become our confessional.

Finally, Marcus lets out a long, heavy sigh that seems to carry years of regret. His eyes find Eva's sleeping form, watching how she instinctively curls closer to Zander's warmth.

"I took it all away," he admits quietly, the words falling like stones into still water.

The implication hangs in the air between us as the monitors continue their steady beeping, marking time in a room where time suddenly seems to have lost all meaning.