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

Chapter Fifty-seven

Italy is a place that is a unique and heavenly experience every time I’ve visited.

This time is no different.

Perhaps it’s because of the unexpected company of Nova. The man I vowed to hate. The same man who vowed to make me burn for eternity. Yet, the flames in which he’s trying to drown and envelop me in, I don’t want to escape.

I want to stay and let its warmth sink into me.

To let it consume me.

The more time we’re spending together, with him being an attentive, adoring, and compassionate husband, the more my cynic mind is screaming he’s too good to be true. Rather than eviscerate my walls, I want to carve more to protect my heart.

To guard myself against the inevitability of us wrecking each other apart.

But how do I convince my heart, that is waging a war against my brain? The beating organ inside my chest doesn’t care about the hurdles, the wretched history between our families or that only two weeks ago, he was my vindictive enemy.

It throbs harder when he’s nearby.

Races every time his hands are on my skin. Touching me like I’m a treasure.

Drugging me with his toe-curling and provocative kisses. Each kiss is a different feeling. Sometimes, they are soft and gentle. Teasing when he finds my retorts funny or cute. A soft peck when he thinks I am asleep. Punishing when I disobey him or make him scared. My favorite, my kryptonite—the hard and open-mouthed kisses where our teeth and tongue are battling for dominance.

Nothing makes my heart crumble and wear down than when he makes violent vows.

Promises to slay my demons.

The thoughtful gifts, meant for my well-being.

I shouldn’t want to weep, hug, and kiss him when he does all those. Not even in my wildest dreams could I have imagined Nova will give the other men a run for their money in the husband’s role.

I sure as hell don’t make it easy.

He handles my tantrums like a pro. Like a sailor weathering a storm.

Man have I lucked out.

Despite it, I’m scared as hell. Which is absurd. Who complains and questions themselves for feeling alive and happy for the first time? Daddy issues don’t even begin to cover what is wrong with me.

The soft breeze jolts me out of my musings and I gaze at the never-ending blue sea. Nova’s hand interlocks with my smaller one as we stroll along the shore.

Portofino with its colorful, lively and picturesque village is surrounded by a rainbow. So bright and striking.

Yet who has caught my rapt attention while distracting me from the beautiful riviera? My husband, looking utterly breathtaking and sexy in a simple white shirt buttoned halfway to show off his washboard abs. Paired with light beige shorts. Tousled hair pushed back, and black aviator sunglasses complete his look.

Vacation mode Nova is a lot calmer, playful, and too intense in his attentiveness. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve caught him gazing at me.

I secretly love it.

A whole lot.

After we arrived yesterday afternoon, we checked into our villa at the Belmond Hotel, Splendido. The jet lag plus the day spent in Vegas had us both searching for the bed. I swear as soon as my head hit the pillow and Nova tugged me into his arms, I was out.

Though I vaguely remember the low growl when I resisted the safety of his snuggles, and he said, “That’s where you end up anyways, Rose.”

Today, we’re going cruising in his family’s yacht and spending the day at the ocean. My body is overjoyed, just itching to dive into the water.

“Umm… the harbor is to the left, Nova,” I remind Nova when he turns in the opposite direction, toward the restaurants and the cute little shops.

He replies without slowing his pace. “We have a stop to make.”

Shrugging, I trudge along behind him in my simple cut-out black dress. The huge hat on top blocking the sun while my long hair dances in the breeze. “Can we hurry? I want to go swimming.”

“Patience, wife.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll be hungry soon too.”

“It makes you cranky. I’m well aware.”

His commanding and know-it-all tone shouldn’t be such a turn-on. On the flight and in our villa, I could hear him barking orders and smartly managing his panicked staff. CEO mode Nova doesn’t mess around and is authoritative.

My dirty mind replaying the same gravelly voice ordering me in the bedroom.

“At least tell me where we’re going.”

“You’ll see soon.”

“It better not be a shopping store,” I warn. Did I mention my husband is a secret shopaholic? In Vegas, when I told him I didn’t pack clothes for our honeymoon, he took us to the luxurious shopping mall. We spent close to five hours browsing the stores. Out of which, I only took a little over an hour. Rest of the time was spent on him.

The whole scene was hilarious.

If he’s ever upset, I know how to win him over.

“I told you I’m not a shopaholic, Rose,” he sighs over his shoulder.

I snicker. “And I’m not a bookaholic.”

We finally come to a stop and the sight leaves me perplexed. I stare at the cute beauty salon before peering up at Nova, tipping my hat back. “A salon?”

“Yes.” When I remain rooted to the spot, he grabs my ass and nudges me forward. Opening the door, he shoves me inside. “Get your nails done. It’s been almost a week.”

He knows I get my nails done weekly?

A giddy smile threatens to take over my lips.

Twisting around, I press myself against him and rest my palm on his chest. Over his steady heartbeat. His fingers tighten on my ass when I scrape my nails down his pecs to the top of his abs. “You keep this up, you’re going to lose your asshole card, hubby.”

“Good. You’re catching up.” Eyebrows slashed over his chocolaty eyes, he gives me a ravishing smirk and orders, “Hurry up.”

Then he proceeds to steal my iced tea and takes a sip. I scowl. “No sharing, Nova.”

“You’ll make an exception for me.”

Slapping my ass, he forces me toward the reception desk. “Get those stiletto ones.”

“Who taught you the name?”

His gaze turns feral hearing the jealousy in my tone. “No one. The internet did.”

“Oh.”

“Jealousy suits you, wife.”

“Shut up!” I turn around before I can make more of fool out of myself. The young girl behind the counter gives me a bright smile. “I would like a manicure, please.”

“Absolutely.” Her accent is thick. “Any specific style?”

I always go for gothic but the back and forth with Nova, and the heady rush in my veins of the past two days, has me feeling some type of way. “Something romantic. It’s my honeymoon.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you!”

“Please come this way. Nora will be taking care of you today.”

The next hour goes by getting myself pampered. The girl doing my nails quietly working, which I appreciate. My small talk skills still poor. I keep stealing glances at Nova throughout and he never once looks irritated for being kept waiting. He sits with his ankles crossed, arms flexed, and winks, catching me staring.

With my nails freshly painted a bright, glossy red, I make my way to the front to pay. Except, Nova has already done it and takes my hand. Staring at it, he hums in appreciation before guiding me outside.

We reach the private section of the harbor and stop at the biggest yacht. Oasis written in huge bold letters. I’ve grown up in wealth but still the sight of it makes my jaw drop. It has to be over five hundred feet in size with God knows how many amenities and rooms inside.

It is stunning, sleek, and screams luxury.

I can only imagine what the inside looks like.

“How come I didn’t know you owned a yacht?” I gasp, mouth agape.

Nova, who is shaking hands with the man in charge of maintaining it, turns to me as soon as he leaves. His tone curt when he answers, “It’s my dad’s.”

“Do you not like sailing?”

“Not as much or as often as him.”

My neck aches from tilting my head so far back as I compliment, “It’s beautiful.”

“Of course you’d love it.”

“I’ve never been on one but have always been curious.” Taking his outstretched hand, I let him walk us to the side to get on board. “My mom would love this. She’s obsessed with oceans and everything related to it. Except, my dad never indulged her. Said it was a waste of time.”

Nova doesn’t say anything but I feel his hand tense around mine. From his profile, I see his jaw tighten and shoulders bunch.

I realize my slip.

He hates my father.

“Why do you hate my dad, Nova?” I emotionlessly ask. Inwardly taking Bianca’s advice.

Nova turns to me. Expression cold and impassive. “Do you really want to discuss this now when we’re finally getting along?”

“Color me curious.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I’m your wife. Don’t you think I have the right to know?”

I feel bereft and brushed off when Nova drops my hand. The warm breeze suddenly feeling cold because of his loss of touch, especially when he glances away. Rubbing at his smooth jaw in frustration, his gaze whips back to mine.

“If you don’t trust me, then just say it.”

My words veneering as a test of whether or not his actions have been real isn’t lost on him. He can’t claim to make our marriage work then not trust me. I deserve all of him or nothing. I won’t live a double life.

I’m about to walk away when he speaks.

His revelation harsh and gutting.

“Mihir has been actively attempting to ruin my father’s career. In his quest for power forged by archaic beliefs, he went to lengths only a monster would. Despite my family’s hard-earned wealth, my peers made me feel like an outsider. Like my money was less than theirs. Our name is still dragged through the mud behind our backs. People fear us, they don’t respect us.” His face twisted in wrath, he spits out, “It was all your father’s doing. His crafted lies made my life hell. You call me manipulative but I’ve only been trying to survive. Being morally virtuous doesn’t get you anywhere in life.”

Sympathy and empathy arise in my chest at hearing his confession.

Nova watches me like I’m na?ve or won’t understand.

But I do.

Because like him, I never saw the world in black and white.

There’s only morally gray.

Stepping closer, I rise to my toes and cup his cheek. His arm winds around my waist, anchoring me to him. He exhales roughly when I stroke his cheek. “Nothing will change the truth, but I am sorry for what my father did. He believes there can only be one king.”

“My family is guilty of shady crimes but we’ve never hurt anybody. My dad wasn’t always rich and did what he had to, to survive his circumstances. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be where I am.”

“I understand, Nova. Sometimes good people do bad things. While the evil ones hide behind a mask.” Hearing him reveal his vulnerability and trusting me, I want to show him a hidden part of me too. A truth for a truth. “It was my uncle.”

His brow furrows before understanding dawns. Through gritted teeth, he states, “He burnt you.”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Where. Is. He?”

“In a grave. Exactly where he belongs.”

The violence in his eyes doesn’t disappear. Neither does the bloodthirst. “He better have been punished for what he did to you, Rose. Tell me he was in pain before he took his last breath.”

I give a broken smile. “Sadly, no. He died young from a heart attack.”

His quick and easy death has eaten away at me for years. However, I’ve made my peace with it.

“Fuck, Rose.” Nova’s body thrums with frustration. “What exactly happened? Tell me everything. Why was he alone with you in the first place?”

“My mom was always traveling. Even the memories I have with her are of us being on vacation somewhere. Usually wherever her next gala or charity was happening. Hardly ever at home. But it was impractical to carry a child everywhere she went. My father convinced her I would become clingy or needy. So, she stopped. Except, I had always been a wild child. I loved to explore. I was loud and demanding.”

Bile rises as I relive the memory all over again.

“Dad conducted most of his business at home and having an active kid, constantly causing ruckus and noise, it made him livid. I would sneak away from the nannies, making them useless. So, he made my uncle, who lived with us and was an alcoholic, in charge of me. His breath always reeked of booze and he always wore this creepy smile that made me stay away from him. My father gave him permission to discipline me as he saw fit, as long as I was quiet and not disturbing anyone. The first time he babysat me, I threw a fit because I didn’t want to be alone with him and he backhanded me to shut up. I was so shocked that no words came out of my mouth. He simply went away, confident he had controlled me for the time being. The next day, I asked for the nanny and his response was to lock me in my room. First it was my bedroom, but he became crueler and wanted to watch me break. So, he started dragging and locking me in dark rooms for hours. No amount of screaming or begging got me out until he decided it.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone, Rose?” Nova roughly demands, anguish in his voice.

“It would’ve made no difference. The nannies, the staff… Jasmine, they all heard my screams but the fear of my father was too strong. The only time I was away was when my mom came home. A part of me hoped she would see the terror in my eyes, but she never did. I asked her to take me with her but she didn’t want me to miss school. As soon as she was gone again, my nightmare would start all over. My uncle became bolder. He had been a failure, the neglected son. He got off on my father’s praises for disciplining me well. Instead of locking me alone, he joined me inside. I would sit in a corner while he drank and smoked. I hated how I smelled the same all the time. No amount of showering and bathing was enough to wash away the stench. My quiet and good behavior brought me no mercy. The last time he had drank too much, he kept slurring how he missed my screams and cries. He despised that he had turned me into a scared little girl with no backbone. I saw the deranged intention in his eyes before he stood up and approached me. All I remember was batting away his hand and pushing him off as he subdued me and wrenched my shorts down. Then intense burning pain, as if my skin was being sliced off. I had passed out from the fright.”

The saltiness doesn’t even register on my lips as I swallow and whisper, “When I woke up, I was in my bedroom while our family doctor, Mr. Singh, was bandaging me. My father stood stoic behind him and as soon as we were alone, his first and only words to me were… If I ever spoke of this, Jasmine and Mom would be next. The only good outcome was that my uncle was finally kicked out of our home.”

“Shhh,” I hear Nova murmur into my hair, clutching me hard and tight against his body.

The broken sound of my own sobs pierces my ears. It didn’t sink in that I was crying as I relived my horrors. I was grieving for the little girl who turned into herself. The traumatized girl who healed her wounds alone in her bedroom. The girl whose view of the world turned black, who would rather lash out than be a victim.

“Nobody is hurting my Rose ever again. Do you hear me? They’ll die a slow death before they even touch you. Your father… he’ll be the first to pay.”

You can’t, Nova.

It’s already too late.