Kingdom of isolation - you can't hide

Eleven - Alexander

Alexander

Age 20

What is it with the older generation wanting to FaceTime over simply texting? I would also prefer the good old fashioned letter through the mail over this nonsense.

"Please tell me that's not yours, Alex."

Ma's worried voice filters through my penthouse as soon as I'm in her line of sight. Brown hair and emerald green eyes, ageing has done nothing to cease Isabella Stone's everlasting beauty. I haven't spoken nor seen her in a while and these are her first words to me the second I accept that video call invitation from her. To her immediate defence, anyone would ask the same thing if they saw someone covered in blood, and I'm currently soaked in it.

"Your son never bleeds, Ma." I greet her with assurance, opening my American style fridge to get the protein shake out. Only gets sucker punched from time to time. Killian demanded we realign my features before I gave him a taste of his own medicine. That doesn't mean I left the ring unscathed. My jaw aches from the punches he threw at me like a supercharged road runner desperate to cut through me to get to the finish line—and for freezing his sensitive nipples at 5AM, I'm sure. I haven't looked at myself just yet but I'm pretty sure I have a black eye, if not two. It's still nothing compared to what I did to him and if he's smart, he won't be asking for a fight any time soon. But, he's a dumbass thirsty for blood so I'll be seeing him soon enough. We both need an outlet before things turn bloody. We don't mind, but the world does. The camera pans out to cover my every movement as I walk around the open kitchen and take a seat on the sofa, Ma's soft gaze following my every move. Likely judging me for tainting her chosen furniture with blood and sweat.

"And if he did, it wouldn't be red."

Elijah Stone, the King to the most lethal kingdom and my father. Even after all these years, the man is as formidable as ever, a force of nature to be reckoned with. With his spectacular stature and face of a cold blooded killer, nobody wants to be on his bad side unless they're mentally impaired. People see a lot of similarities between us and that's something I cannot change unless I go under the knife, and I'd rather not. Their fear of my father naturally extends to me and I prefer it that way. I'd hate for people to assume I'm capable of mercy when I look just like the stuff made of nightmares. As the years have gone by, our reputation has grown and people are constantly on the edge around us. Are we friend or foe? They'll never know.

"Father." I greet him, taking my first gulp of the protein shake. Vile.

"You know better than to worry your mother like that, Alexander."

Translation: Try to behave normal for your mother.

"I'm alive, Ma. That's all that matters, right?"

I set my sorry excuse of a protein shake down and lean back against the plush sofa until my vision is upside down, my spine cracking in satisfaction. Our family dynamic is..ambiguous. To the outside world looking in, we're the perfect family ruling a legitimate kingdom. But the reality is far from it. Wickedness runs in our veins instead of blood. Well, mine and father's most certainly. Ma couldn't hurt a fly even if she wanted to and Nikolas—well, it's a shame. The mould broke after he was born. Good. I don't need any more soft hearted creatures in my life ready to destroy my empire with their weak resolve. It must have been 30 minutes of horror for Ma when she realised something was wrong with her first born who wasn't crying. Nikolas came to her rescue with his Mariah Carey level annoying vocals, I suppose. Ma's lips purse in annoyance at my nonchalant words, though from this angle they could be mistaken for a smile. She knows I'm right, even if she won't ever admit it.