Hateful Games: (An arranged marriage billionaire romance) (Arranged Games Book 2)

Chapter Twenty-two

(Present – Eight years later)

My biggest regret—not choosing science as my stream in school.

If I had, maybe I could’ve have become a kick-ass scientist and invented a time machine. Or a machine that made me control time. Second best option—or worst, depending which side you’re on—I could’ve created a virus that made touching another human deadly and spread it around the city.

I’d be the most hated person on the planet. But at least then, I won’t be subjected to an unwanted marriage. A bleak future. Saddled with a man who vows to hate me.

My hope of undoing the deal made by my parents ten years ago dwindled and pretty much died as each year passed.

I’ve lived through all the stages of grief.

And have finally come to acceptance.

Nova D’Cruz will very soon be my husband.

As the dreadful weekend approaches—in seven days—my family is celebrating the train wreck about to happen with wide smiles and throwing money around like confetti on the wedding preparations.

Every media outlet in the country is calling it the bash of the year.

An extravagant, regal affair of the century.

Because it’s not often two powerful families, known to be at each other’s throats, come together for a celebration of love and peace.

God! What a joke.

Everyone assumes weapons and violence are dangerous. When words are far deadlier. The power they wield, twisting and spinning the truth, can destroy and create chaos.

I’ve witnessed my father do it countless times that my life has become a web of lies. A sordid tale of manipulation and illusion.

But hey! On the bright side, I can’t complain my life will be boring.

“Your father will not be pleased, Rosalie.”

My mother’s voice breaks through my morose thoughts and I mumble flatly, “When is he ever?”

My pet pug, Maggie, who senses my mood darkening lifts her wrinkled face from my lap to lick my arm affectionately. She repeats it again until I give her a small smile. I pat her head once she settles down again to softly snore.

I swear, all she does is sleep twenty-four hours a day.

Meanwhile, my two other dogs lie down near the end of the bed. A rescued pit bull named Bunny, because his favorite pastime is jumping on my bed, and a Chihuahua, Fire, because he’s my little spitfire. He’s tiny but protective as hell.

Actually, they all are.

At least I’ll have someone who loves me at my in-laws.

“You cannot wear a black bridal dress,” my mom informs with a disgruntled sigh. “It’s bad luck.”

Delusion—still my mom’s best friend.

The marriage is doomed to fail with or without a black dress. “I don’t care. It’s my favorite color. Don’t I get a choice since I’m the bride?”

“Your father won’t—”

“Then don’t tell him,” I cut her off. “Let it be a surprise.”

I’d be facing his wrath but he also won’t confront me in front of the thousands of guests or risk his reputation as a perfect family man. By the time the ceremony will be over, I won’t be his problem anymore.

The unwanted daughter will be out of his life for good.

“Rosa,” my mom softly murmurs, standing with her hands perched on her slim hips. While my bridal and reception dresses hang on racks behind her. Both black as night. “You still cannot be against the marriage. It’s been years.”

Has she truly been blind all this time? Then again, she’s hardly ever home.

I’ve spent years letting Nova and my father control every waking moment of my life. Both acting like entitled assholes with the right to dictate how I live. It became a living hell after they joined forces.

Shocking, isn’t it?

Once I returned from London after attending Nova’s graduation, the confidence I felt standing up to Nova was blown into smithereens when I caught sight of the bodyguard he had hired for me.

The one I had assaulted in a fit of rage.

Except now, he was hired by my father, whom Nova had fed some elaborate lie that I was in imminent danger because he had received some threatening emails. He manipulated my dad into believing he cared and wanted to protect me.

Or perhaps my father simply didn’t care enough.

He must’ve wanted to ensure his end of the deal was secure.

My heart screams it was the latter.

Since it will be pointless to tell this to my mom, I don’t bother. “You decided to choose a husband for me, the least you can do is let me pick my wedding dress, Ma.”

She flinches before softening her features. “Nova is a good man, Rosa. He will make you happy.”

Unless miserable and masochistic is the new happy, I doubt it.

It was like a switch had been flipped after the trip because everything took a turn for the worse. Shortly after my return, Nova also came back to immediately join his family’s business.

Unlike every time before when he was back home, he religiously kept his distance from me since his move became permanent. I was prepared to have him breathing down my neck at every opportunity.

Torment and tease me like he did the whole week in London.

However, I became completely nonexistent to him.

Shoved back into an invisible corner that was my safe haven.

Even my mom was perplexed when he smartly declined the dates she tries to set up for us.

The three years I was gone to study in a different city, we never saw each other. I only felt his suffocating presence from the constant bodyguards I was surrounded with. The countless articles I read about him in business and gossip magazines. Because it didn’t take long before he started to make the headlines.

Successfully leading a merger with a US shipping company.

Ruthlessly acquiring a Middle Eastern oil company.

He had turned into a shark in the business world. A bull that broke into Wall Street with D’Cruz Empire’s shares skyrocketing. Being a genius and cutthroat tycoon is in his blood.

In the span of four years, his own net worth reached ten figures, making him one of the youngest multibillionaires in our country.

Just another boost his ego needed.

The media being a greedy mass of hawks didn’t miss my absence. Especially once I came back home after my graduation. The chatter that there was trouble in paradise spread like wildfire.

And once again, Nova and I were thrown together.

The sight of him after three years of emptiness was an electric jolt to my system.

He looked nothing like the boy I remembered.

A sharpness and cold-bloodedness made home in his warm brown eyes. They didn’t stare at me with cruel mischief like every time in the past. It was replaced by barbed wires of hatred and hostility.

I was so taken aback when he didn’t throw any insult or threat.

He stared right through me.

Slicing me straight down in the middle.

Our fathers had called us together to give a long-ass lecture about how we needed to be seen together in public. And so began my role of a trophy fiancée. The company dinners and functions I was forced to parade around on his arm. Even then, he hardly spoke two words to me and treated me like I was just an extension of his arm.

It should’ve relieved me.

Instead, it did the opposite.

I felt like a cheap whore. Arm candy he had paid for the night. From the same man who had claimed that I was his equal. Thus, proving he was nothing but a selfish liar.

The older version of Nova was vicious. Cold. Cruel.

Meanwhile, I found a few fleeting moments of freedom where I didn’t act like my world was one big fairy tale. Only because not a soul knows about them. Not even my two closest best friends, Bianca and Iris.

Everybody saw me as a dumb and spoiled heiress.

I was far from it.

“Let’s hope it’s true because it’s too late to back out now,” I finally reply to my mom. While secretly wishing she would listen to her motherly instincts and tell me that it’s not too late. That if I said the word, she’ll cancel the wedding.

They never come.

“I wouldn’t choose just any man for you, my love,” she says. “You need to trust me.”

“Are you going to tell Dad about the dress?” Disappointment pinches her features when I disregard her words.

“Of course not. But I still think you should reconsider it. You’ll survive a day without wearing black.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“I told you we should’ve kept goth wedding as the theme, Mom.”

Both of us turn to my older sister Jasmine’s amused voice reaching us from the doorway. She stands with her two-year-old daughter, Suhana, perched on her hip. Both of them twinning in identical floral traditional Indian kurtis and leggings.

The tension dissipates from the room and I jump down from the bed to get to my adorable and chubby niece. She starts to wiggle in her mom’s arms to excitedly come to mine. My heart has never been so full than when she showers me with love.

“Come here, my little fairy,” I whisper in a baby voice, taking her from Jasmine. “Masi has missed you so much.”

She babbles something intelligible, making me chuckle. Swinging her in the air, I place kisses all over her cute face and her laughter spills in my ear. My dog, Bunny, seeing the commotion, runs to us and sits near my feet, wagging his tail and waiting.

I bend and let him lick Suhana’s tiny hand before straightening.

“I see the preparations are in full swing,” comments Jasmine, as Mom joins our little circle and hugs my sister.

“Waste of money since the wedding isn’t happening here.”

“It’s a joyous occasion, Rosa,” tsks my mom. “If this isn’t the time to decorate the house, then when is?”

Jasmine and I exchange a look before she gazes over my shoulder. Her eyes widen at the sight of my huge shimmering black wedding dress that I had custom-made. Since Nova’s parents are Catholic, there will be a Christian ceremony with a priest while all the pre-wedding rituals will be according to Indian traditions.

“Why am I not surprised?” says Jasmine before smirking, “I’m just shocked you’re getting busted now by Mom.”

“Don’t you start on me too,” I warn.

“Of course not, silly. That stunning dress is so you.”

I give her a grateful smile. Jasmine knows how I truly feel about the arrangement and the contract I’m bound by and also having watched Nova’s silent cruelty over the years. Like a protective big sister, she confronted Dad and demanded he break the engagement. Only to be threatened to be cut off from the family and dismissed.

Dad would probably have been harsher had she not been pregnant with Suhana.

“Thanks, Jas.”

“But Dad is going to be pissed.”

Just then, a servant appears behind her and looking at me, informs, “Mr. Kapoor is calling you to his office, Miss Rosalie.”

“Speaking of the devil,” I mutter.

“Rosalie!” admonishes Mom.

But I’m already out the door and down the hallway. Reaching his office on the opposite wing of the house, I knock and wait. His reply comes from the other side and I push inside.

The stench of burning tobacco assaults my nose. It takes everything inside me not to wretch and keep my expression concealed as I come face to face with my father, who has one of his imported cigars lit up.

Trepidation rises in the pit of my stomach because he only smokes when he’s controlling his anger. I’ve learned to handle him in all of his moods except this. It’s too much of a reminder of that awful and terrifying night.

Yet somehow, I hold on to my composure. “How can I help you, Dad?”

His chair is tilted sideways, giving me the view of his profile as he peers at the wall. With a flick of his wrist, he points toward the chair opposite his desk. “Have a seat.”

I quickly obey, already wanting to run away.

He takes a puff while tapping his knuckle on the desk with the other. I resist the urge to nervously chew on my lip, not risking pissing him off further.

“Everything going well with the wedding planner?” he questions sternly. “I don’t need to tell you that you should be on your best behavior and do nothing to embarrass me.”

He’s the one sacrificing his daughter for a financial gain yet I’m the embarrassment.

Immediately, my mind goes to my dress. But there’s no way he could know. Besides my best friends, Mom and Jasmine are the only ones who know. They would never betray me. Judging by his tone, I’m torn whether or not to confess.

Because if I do, I’ll definitely have to say goodbye to the dress.

My heart doesn’t allow me to risk it.

I need to have at least one thing that is not being forced on me when it comes to the wedding. One piece that’ll help me get through it.

“I asked you a question, Rosalie,” he snaps, slapping his palm on the desk when I take too long to answer.

“Yes, I know,” I rush to say. “Tamana and her team are very efficient and handling everything perfectly.”

His chair creaks over the heartbeat in my ears as he twists to face me. Despite working from home today, he’s impeccably dressed in a custom Brioni suit. Over the years, his wrinkles have become more prominent and not taken away his harshness.

Another long inhale with traces of smoke reaching my space, he coolly asks, “Nothing that needs my intervention?”

He knows about the dress. However, my self-preservations seem to be on a stroll.

“No, Papa.”

His sharp gaze doesn’t waver from mine, observing for any tell.

I boldly hold the eye contact and watch as he slowly rises to his full height. Rounding the big desk, he disappears out of my sight to walk back and forth behind me. My hands sweat and I discreetly rub them down my thighs, over my leggings.

“May I please leave now?” I ask, my chest feeling too tight. I jump when his hands land on the back of my chair, making his cigar-holding fingers hang inches from the side of my face. The heat stinging my skin. Desperate to leave, I whisper, “Is there anyth—”

“Are we invited to a funeral on the same day as your wedding, Rosalie?” he asks, a curious edge in his tone.

Shit. He’s furious.

Confess or lie.

Confess or lie.

Confess or lie.

“No.”

I cry out when he slaps a receipt on the desk with the name of the bridal boutique staring back at me. The burning butt of his cigar grazes the top of my arm when he leans back. The burn doesn’t even register over his loud and angry voice as he reveals his true emotions.

“I’ll ask again… is there something that needs my attention?”

“It’s just a dress, Dad.” My voice is shaky.

“My daughter isn’t walking down the aisle in an ugly black dress as if she’s being marched down to her death sentence,” he yells.

“It’s not a big deal,” I pleadingly say. “No one will care.”

“For God’s sake, Rosalie!” he snaps, once again behind his desk and leaning over it. “Why the hell can’t you be normal for once? Always dressing like a goth and weirdo. It was supposed to be a phase and you should’ve grown out of it.”

Angry tears sting my eyes against the lash of his cruel insult. In his mind, I’ll be nothing but a disappointment, a shameful mark on his pristine family’s name.

Giving me a derisive once-over, he continues listing all my flaws, “The red hair, the piercings, where and when is it going to stop, huh? When are you going to start acting like an adult, and not a rebelling child? You’re nothing but a disgrace to this family. It’s a miracle the D’Cruzes are still willing to accept you as their daughter-in-law.”

“I have done everything you’ve asked of me. Why can’t you let me have this one thing?” I bargain like a pathetic girl. “Are you worried Nova will care? He won’t.”

“You’re in over your head if you think I’m letting you walk out in that heinous dress. It better be in the trash before the day is over.” Dismissing me, he picks up his phone while muttering, “I’m telling your mother to take you shopping and buy another.”

“No.”

His head snaps to mine, eyes narrowing into slits. “What did you say, little girl?”

I’ve let go of my pride. My freedom. My happiness. Every morsel of my life for him. Without a fight. But I’m not giving up on this.

“I’m wearing the black one.”

In a flash, he’s in front of me and jerking me out of the chair. I raise my arm in defense, expecting a slap. Instead, all he does is shake me violently until I’m sure he’ll either leave a bruise or pull my arm out of its socket.

“Repeat that again.”

I make the mistake of glaring even as a tear slips down my cheek.

Uncaring about mistakenly leaving a burn scar, his fingers grip my chin tightly with the same hand holding his cigar. He squeezes until I whimper low in my throat. My eyes burning from the smoke billowing so damn close and I hold my breath.

“Yo-you’re hurting m-me, Dad.”

One thick eyebrow arches and he growls low, “You’re finally worth something and I will not let you jeopardize everything over a thing as trivial as a stupid dress. Burn it down.” Letting me go with a chilling look, I smack hard against the chair and wince. Picking nonexistent lint off his suit, he barks, “Get out.”

I turn around and run, slamming the door behind me.

My knees buckle as I cough and bend over to take in deep breaths. Quiet sobs rack my chest as his cruel words repeat inside my head. I hate that he reduces me to this pitiful and scared state.

A scraping noise jerks me upright.

Through my blurry gaze, my eyes connect with the bane of my existence.

Nova.