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

Chapter Fifty-two

Nathan does a double take when I open the front door in my disheveled state at seven in the evening. His comical gaze flying to the horny devil, aka Fire, in my arm and then to Maggie running circular laps around my legs.

“I’m sorry, it seems I’ve come to the wrong house,” he jibes. “My best friend Nova used to live here, know him?”

“Stop being a prick and get your ass inside.” I turn and walk down the hallway.

Nathan’s footsteps follow after me. “You’re babysitting your wife’s dogs?”

“Sort of.”

“Gonna elaborate?”

I rub at my temple, contemplating my decision. Either I tell him the truth or lie. Both make me look like a fool with guaranteed mocking for the rest of my life. I choose the former, knowing an interrogation will follow. “I turned away the sitter Rose found.”

“You’re willingly taking care of the dogs?” Disbelief is evident in his tone. He scoffs, “Out with the truth, asshole.”

Because I have an ulterior motive. “Is it hard to believe I like them?”

“Or you’re just trying to impress your wife?”

“I have other skills to impress her with.”

Another sardonic laugh. “Which you’re failing at to resort to turning into a nanny for her pets. A task she didn’t trust you with herself.”

“I’m perfectly capable of caring for the dogs and don’t need a sitter. They’ve also grown on me and I would rather not come home to an empty house.”

“Why? Scared a ghost is hiding in your closet?”

“Shut up.”

Walking past the living room, we reach the open kitchen. Nathan comes to a halt beside me and chokes out, “Did a tsunami struck in here?”

The couch has been slashed with angry paws, boxes and toys are littered around. In the middle sits Bunny, looking all smug.

“Yeah, they’re all on a rampage. I’m telling you, this room is cursed. Last time, I had to replace the furniture because Rose and Bianca set the fire alarm off. Now I have to buy them again.”

“The tiny ones were in on it too?”

“No, I was distracted by them while he,” I point at the culprit. “Caused chaos in here. I’ve been trying to win him over. Nothing fucking works.”

“Then why the hell are you carrying this one around?” Nathan points to Fire.

“Woof,” barks Fire, voicing his displeasure.

“Watch,” I say to Nathan and put Fire down. A second later, he goes to town.

Nathan’s spine goes ramrod, eyebrows flying to his hairline, before he bursts out laughing. Tears falling down his face as he clutches his stomach.

I yank a humping Fire away and pick him up in my arms. “He can’t be trusted on the floor.”

“You’re a mess, man.”

My phone pings with a text. Reading it, I pass Fire to Nathan, despite his protest. “Hold him.”

“Where are you going?”

“Taking Bunny outside. Our war ends tonight.” I grab two pieces of chicken from the plate on the island and cautiously approach a quietly sitting Bunny near the couch. He watches me intensely, sniffing the scent of freshly cooked chicken. “You want this, Bunny? Come here then.”

“I’m not taking you to the hospital if he bites you,” warns Nathan from behind, and then mutters to himself, “I should’ve stayed home.”

“I have a surprise in the backyard for you, Buns.”

“Buns?”

“Rose calls him that sometimes,” I reply. “Quit distracting me.”

“Grrr…” A low growl leaves Bunny’s mouth and it’s aimed at Nathan. A rather pleasant surprise.

“Yep. Nathan’s the bad guy,” I whisper.

“You fucker!”

“Woof woof woof!” barks Bunny, and I grab his collar as he stands on all fours, ready to charge after Nathan.

I scratch his ears and calmly murmur, “It’s okay, Bunny. Here.” I feed him the chicken. “Good boy. Come!”

Rising to my full height, I guide him to the backyard, where I had my guards set up a large trampoline. I ordered it specifically for Bunny, knowing his favorite hobby is to jump on the bed. This is a far better and cheaper option.

The second he sees it, his curiosity has him running toward it and straight away jumping on it. When he bounces, he pauses in surprise. He tries it again and I grin, close to pumping my fist in the air when he begins to enjoy it.

I just know I’m on his good side now.

Rosalie is going to hate this.

“At least wipe the grin off your face,” grunts Nathan. “You’re a real bastard, you know that?”

“You’re just saying that because there’s finally someone who doesn’t like you.”

He flips me off.

“Why are you here anyways?”

“I thought we’d go for a drink at The Mirage. Didn’t know I’d be running into Martha Stewart instead.”

Punching his shoulder, I reply, “Let me feed the little ones and we’ll go.”

“You’re just begging me to yank your chain.”

“Rose will kill me if I let them starve, once she finds out I didn’t let them stay with her former bodyguard, Raghu.”

“What count is it now?” He hums as we stroll inside. “Her trying to kill you?”

“She did it once,” I irritably reply. The incident still impresses and terrifies me in equal measures. “I believe it’s her love language.”

“By trying to kill you.”

“Almost killing me.”

“Boy, you’re falling fast and hard.”

The sharp denial never falls from my lips. When months ago, it would have.

***

The Mirage, an elite gentlemen’s club, is as alive with debauchery and high-stakes games as it always is. A frequent hanging out spot for Nathan and I. Although lately, I haven’t felt like coming here. Had Rosalie been at home, I sure as hell wouldn’t have accepted Nathan’s invitation.

My wife is far more bewitching and sexier to watch.

I could never get bored.

The last time I had been in here was last year when Rosalie had sneaked in with Bianca after I ruined her phony date. She lived to step on my toes, making me chase her around town and giving the bodyguards hell.

We’ve always been at each other’s throats.

We still are.

But the nature of games has changed and become tempting.

I take a cursory glance around the room, making out familiar faces. The semi-darkness doesn’t allow them to see Nathan and me, which is good because I’m in no mood for business talk. Every conversation inevitably leads to it.

Nathan and I are sitting in a shaded and private booth. Him sipping on scotch while I’m having a non-alcoholic beer.

“So, it was the assistant all along?” asks Nathan.

“Yeah. He had been holding a grudge because I fired him,” I reply. “Found files and copies of them at his place during our search. He’s pleaded guilty. My lawyers are handling it.”

“Why don’t you look relieved then?”

“This co-owning of the port with Mihir isn’t sitting right with me. My gut is saying he’s going to sabotage us somehow.”

“Has he done anything suspicious?”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe you’re being paranoid.”

“So everybody keeps telling me,” I grudgingly retort, finishing off the beer and slamming the empty bottle on the table.

Nathan perceptively observes me before carefully asking, “Have you shared your past with Rosalie?”

My shoulders tense, darkness swimming in as cruel memories infiltrate my head. The yelling, the crying, followed by eerie quietness. All of it comes rushing back like a dark cloud. I answer in an impassive tone, “No. I don’t plan to.”

“Why?”

I raise one eyebrow. “Because she will only end up hating me more. That’s if she even believes me in the first place. Her parents have kept her in the dark and she’s chosen to believe every lie they’ve told her instead of questioning them.”

“Then your marriage will never work.”

“I confess every sordid betrayal and she will have to choose between her family and me. We both know who she’ll choose.” My voice devoid of emotion, I say with finality, “I would rather have her hate me and keep her than tell the truth and lose her.”

Somber silence falls between us and I twist to wave at the bartender for another beer. Except, my eyes land on two tall and imposing figures at the bar that has me doing a double take and has my hackles rising.

“What the hell is Dash doing here?”

Nathan follows my gaze and mumbles, “Have you banished him from here? Last I checked, he was a member too.”

“Unless he’s got a doppelganger with the same close friend, he cannot be at two places at the same time.”

“You’re keeping a tab on his whereabouts?” he asks, confused.

“Where is Iris tonight?”

“At her parents’,” he answers while still wearing a ‘you’ve gone insane’ expression. “I repeat, what does Dash’s or Iris’s whereabouts have to do with anything?”

“It means your girl is lying and so is mine.” Ignoring his perplexed features, I stand and walk toward the oblivious pair at the bar. Nathan not far behind me. As soon as I’m near, I clear my throat and greet, “Gentlemen.”

Dash’s head snaps toward mine and his broody gaze deepens. However, I don’t miss him draw to the same conclusion as me. That our girls have plotted behind our backs and tricked us. Why, though, is still to be solved.

“Aren’t you supposed to be traveling?” His tone is emotionless.

“I should be asking you the same.”

“Care to explain what the fuck you two are talking about?” interrupts another voice belonging to Dash’s friend, Justin Merchant. His deeply amused gaze ping-ponging between his friend and I. “Never been a fan of mysteries.”

“Apparently their women have lied to them and they’ve been fooled,” answers Nathan with mirth.

“Iris has lied to you too,” I taunt. “She isn’t at her parents’.”

Justin laughs at all our expressions, from Nathan’s incredulous one to Dash’s and mine irritated scowls. Throwing his arm around Dash’s shoulder, he cockily says, “Aren’t you glad I brought you here?”

“A certain spitfire has brought you here, you idiot,” insults Dash.

“Being lovey-dovey has made you lose brain cells, man.” Taking a sip of his drink, he continues, “I don’t even remember her face, let alone being interested in chasing her.”

“Is that why you begged me to give the spitfire her apartment back?” quips Dash, lifting one haughty brow.

“I said give everyone their apartments back, not specifically her.”

“You also come crawling back here every month in the name of business meetings. You’ve become a pathetic stalker. One day, I’m going to be bailing your ass out of jail.”

Justin’s jaw tics. “I see why Bianca would want a few days away from you.”

“As much as I love listening to you both banter, I have a more pressing matter,” I interrupt them and flick my gaze to Dash’s calculative one. “What did Bianca exactly tell you?”

“That she’s spending a few days with Rosalie and Iris at your place since you’re making Rosalie miserable and will be gone on a business trip.”

I disregard the remark about me making her miserable.

“I was told they’re at your house since you’re away.” I chuckle under my breath at their smart plan. They counted on us never willingly talking to each other or running into one another. “You just said yes?”

“I was promised things.”

Shaking my head, I pull out my phone to call my wife right away. Then I remember the little hellion has blocked me. Also, her phone is never around her. “Call Iris and see if she spills.”

“No need,” cuts in Dash. Scrolling on his phone, he states, “They obviously don’t want to be found since they went to such lengths to keep us in the dark. I’m guessing they’re at Bianca’s old apartment.”

“How exactly will you know? You calling her?”

“No.”

“How then?”

“Tracker.”

My brows rise at his unapologetic tone with which he spills the psychotic detail. I’m impressed and inspired. “You have a chip on your woman without her knowledge?”

His cold stare rises to mine, fingers pausing. “You don’t?”

“After tonight, I will. Not that I’ll be letting her out of my sight or house anytime soon once I have my hands on her.”

“Iris’s phone is switched off,” shares Nathan, voice concerned.

“Mine has me blocked.”

“Jesus Christ,” chortles Justin. “You all should see your faces.”

Pointing behind him, I ask, “Is that… the spitfire?”

“Where?” his barks, looking over his shoulder.

Slowly, he turns back with his face red. I’m betting from embarrassment, not anger. I smirk. “My bad. You should see your face.”

“Fucker.”

My amusement dies when I notice Dash’s jaw flexing and his expression becoming grim. I demand, “What? Where are they?”

His green eyes lift to mine. “Vegas.”

The city crawling with booze, drugs, and horny men. And our girls are all alone. Without protection. God knows causing what sorts of chaos.

My little hellion is in so much trouble.

“We’ll take my jet,” I say to Dash.