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

Chapter Seventy-one

My face is still beet red as I walk down the busy corridor to the employee’s cafeteria.

Splashing it with water didn’t help. Nothing will.

Especially not with the reminder of what Nova did to me in his locked office feeling between my thighs with every step I take. If I close my eyes, I can imagine his fingers inside me, the rough edge rubbing up and down.

He made me come with my own book!

Rubbed it on my pussy like it was a sex toy.

Worse, I came harder than ever. All from the forbidden and naughtiness of it. As soon as I flew back down to earth, he casually put it back on the shelf. I was unable to meet his eyes.

We probably would’ve fucked had his assistant not knocked. I’m pretty sure it was all over my face what we’d been doing after he allowed her inside ten minutes later.

I excused myself quickly.

Nova’s small knowing smirk taunting me all the way.

I’m hoping coffee will help clear the haze so I can remotely function like a normal human being rather than a woman with sex constantly on her mind. He’s turned me into him.

You’re distracting yourself.

The taunting voice pops up and some of the high wears off. I haven’t spent a single moment of last week idly, afraid of being assaulted with the memories of the awful visit with my dad last week. I’m practicing my mom’s mantra.

Living in a delulu land.

Otherwise, guilt will eat me alive. I still haven’t told Nova, and I never will. His temper will make the cursed situation even more hellish. Then there’s the picture I took of his father extorting money.

I’m stuck in a catch twenty-two.

If I confront him about his father, it’ll lead to questions about why I was there in the first place. Then lead to my own dad, which I want to avoid like the plague.

“Are you sure Rosalie wrote it?”

The sound of my name stops me cold in my tracks, just before I can round the corner into the cafeteria. It’s at the end of the hallway and no one else is around. I stay rooted and eavesdrop on the conversation.

A voice says I should turn and go back to the safety of Nova.

He’s become my safe haven.

“Why else would he keep them on display in his office?” another male voice replies, disgust heavy in his tone. “I’ve only heard him call her Rose. It can’t be that big of a coincidence.”

It doesn’t take a second for the topic of their conversation to click into piece.

With it, comes panic at coming face to face with my worst fear.

“Wow… but what has she written that has your panties in a bunch?”

“Nothing but trash in the name of romance. Most of it is so disturbing that I don’t even want to say out loud.” He laughs derogatorily. “I’m telling you, man, I had to bleach my eyes out after a few pages.”

Mortifying tears burn my eyelids, seconds away from falling.

This time the rapid beating of my heart is from trepidation and humiliation. Like worms crawling all over my skin, dirtying me up. It’s nothing short of living my worst nightmare.

I want to tune them out, not let their shitty remarks affect me.

It’s easier said than done, though.

The damage is already done.

“I mean, who even writes shit like that? She needs a therapist stat.”

A third voice scoffs, “Only a person sick in the head would write it.”

“The way she dresses, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. Must be a freak in the sheets to have our boss wrapped around her little finger.”

Chuckles echo around the space.

“People like her give a bad name to literature.”

“Damn,” whistles a new voice. “That’s nasty. Read this, man.”

“You bought the book?”

“Gotta know what the fuss is all about.”

Why are they getting to me? I knew some people would be too small-minded and disrespectful and sexist. However, there’s a big difference between imagining it and hearing it spoken out loud.

“Think she’ll suck our dicks if we took a page from her book?” the very first voice says, receiving hums of approval.

Bile rises in my throat while silent tears free fall.

My tolerance snaps.

With fresh humiliating tears streaming down my face, I run to the nearest bathroom. Their vile and disgusting sexual comments and threats torturing my psyche. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror.

I thought I was stronger than this.

Turns out, I’m pathetic and weak.

Never in my life have I felt so horrible and objectified. Hardly anyone or anything gets past my walls. I’m losing my edge. That’s why I prefer being called rude or having a resting bitch face.

At least then, people think twice about saying things about me.

Chest burning with a wave of agony and my insecurities flaring to the surface, I wash my face in a desperate attempt to wash their vile comments off me. Scrubbing my arms until they’re raw and pink, I give up.

I need to leave.

With my purse and phone in Nova’s office, I can’t simply escape. It’ll also make him suspicious and I don’t want to rehash the incident. Cleaning myself up as best I can while pushing those cruel voices to the back of my head, I march back to Nova.

I pause, gulping a deep breath and form a fake smile before I enter. I catch him sitting behind his desk, his suit jacket draped over the back of the chair. He looks up but I avoid his sharp gaze and stalk to the couch to grab my stuff.

Afraid he’ll see the lingering shame.

“Hi, I’m going to go home,” I breezily say. “Can you call the driver, please?”

I jerk at the scraping noise of his chair, his confident gait approaching from behind. I can’t control the shaking of my hand as I busy myself picking up my Kindle and phone. A ball of anxiety forms in my throat, suffocating me.

“You’re busy and I think I’ve disturbed you enough,” I rush to add, an awkward laugh spilling from my lips. I quickly shut my mouth.

Firm and strong hands lock around my waist and slowly turn me around.

I fix my stare at his chest, counting the buttons on his vest.

“Look at me, Rose.” His voice is soft like petals.

I fight the tears, biting my lip to hold back a sob.

A single calloused finger tilts my chin up.

I squeeze my eyelids shut, causing the first tear to slip.

“I only have one question.” His finger brushes the saltiness away. “Who?”

The grit in his tone, the barely restrained edge, gives away to his fury. I know that tone. I’ve heard it before. The one that makes grown men tremble. The one guided by protectiveness for my peace.

I can’t keep letting him defend me every time.

One day, he’ll go too far and the regret will eat away at me.

Strengthening my resolve, I muster courage and reply, “It’s not a big deal, Nova. I just need to be alone and I’ll be fine.”

I should’ve known he wouldn’t budge.

“Not what I asked.”

I raise my eyes to his, silently begging him to let it go. “I just want to forget.”

“I’ve told you what your tears do to me, Rose,” he reminds me. His jaw tight and brown pupils darkening into pitch-black viciousness by the second. “Someone in my building had the foolishness to make you hurt and cry, I can’t let them walk free. There are consequences to actions and they’ll face theirs.”

“Please don’t. It’ll spread like gossip. I don’t want that,” I say, anxiety flaring. “It’s not like they said anything I didn’t expect.”

His lips purse in displeasure, features locking so tight I can make out the cut of his cheekbones. “No one disrespects my wife. Not under my watch.”

Emotions surge from deep inside my chest and the last of my braveness shatters. He tucks my head against his steady heartbeat while I feel his other arm move as though he’s texting someone.

A minute later, he’s guiding me to his chair. His scary silence unnerving and frightening me. The expression on his handsome face is impassive and cold as he settles me on his lap before clicking on his laptop.

Gone is the man who made me writhe on his thigh with adoration.

I freeze at the image that pops up on the screen, which actually is a footage of the cafeteria. I already know who the group of formally dressed men are. Nova hits play. Despite knowing what’s coming, it stings harder all over again as I hear their taunting jibes and cruel insults.

Nova’s fingers dig painfully into my thigh as I bury my face into his neck.

Every inch of him is as rigid as an unyielding rock while he quietly listens. Until the very end. I tune them out before they make remarks about fucking me. The pounding in my ears is so high I can barely hear anything else, much less what other revolting stuff they said after I ran.

I only come to my senses when Nova secures me tighter against the comforting heat of his body.

“Shhh,” he murmurs in my hair, kissing the top of my head. His gentle but strong voice ensures me calmly, “None of it is true. Their idiocy was doing the talking. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, wrong with you. You’re perfect, Rose.”

“I don’t know why it hurts,” I mumble against his skin. “I don’t understand why I’m letting them get to me.”

“Because no matter how strong you are, sometimes words still have the power to hurt.” Tilting my head, his lips ghost over my wet ones. “That doesn’t make you weak or their words any true.”

“I know.”

“I’ll deal with them later,” he informs me. Though it sounds like an ominous threat. Before I can ask what he really means, he distracts me by kissing me. “I’m taking you home and we’re going to make you forget this happened.”

I nod wordlessly, trusting him to do just that without a single doubt.

Setting me to my feet, he stands and slides on his suit jacket. On our way out, he informs his assistant he’s taking the rest of the day off and to cancel his meetings. Taking the private elevator that leads straight to the parking lot, we reach his car.

His hand holds mine all the way home.

We haven’t even crossed the threshold when Maggie, Bunny, and Fire come barreling down to greet us. Their gazes lightening up at the sight of Nova, who has to brace me from falling when the trio slam into my body. His hand remains perch on my waist as I bend and pick up an eager Maggie.

I’m smothered with kisses.

Meanwhile, Fire and Bunny receive pats and caresses from Nova.

I look over my shoulder at him and suggest, “Want to watch a show with me?”

“Which do you have in mind?”

“The Office. Have you seen it?”

“No.”

My jaw goes slack, mirth flashing on his face. “Have you at least heard of it?”

“I don’t watch shows or movies often.”

“That’s so boring.” I wrinkle my nose. He laughs. “Do you even realize what you’re missing out on?”

“I watch sports. Far from boring.”

“Yeah, ’cause it’s lame.”

“Oh yeah?” he quips. Picking me up while I clutch Maggie, he carries me to the upstairs. “Then let’s see what’s so special about The Office that I’m missing out on.”

After a quick change, our dogs and I settle in the theater room. Meanwhile, Nova goes and makes us popcorn, and with it chips and drinks. By the time he’s back, I’m cozy under a blanket. My gaze lingers on my husband’s sculpted abs visible above the waistband of his low sweats, roaming upward to his face as he sets the snack tray on a table before us.

I’ve never been a cuddly or clingy type of girl.

But with him, I ache to glue myself to him permanently.

As soon as he sits beside me, I scooch and press a kiss against his mouth. He freezes for a long lingering second, surprised by the innocent gesture, and I hide my smile. Throwing one leg over his, I snuggle against him. His arm automatically reaching to play with my hair.

The contented sigh that he lets out sends my heart fluttering.

“You ready to be blown away?” I tease, picking up the remote.

“I thought we were watching the show.”

I roll my eyes at his sexual innuendo. “Not that, hubby.”

“You do realize I run my own office, don’t need to be watching it too.”

“Maybe you’ll learn new tips.”

Tugging my hair playfully, he says, “Blow me away, my wife.”

I hit play on the first episode. I’ve viewed this show countless times without feeling bored. I all but forget whether or not Nova is enjoying it when Jim and Dwight’s antics start. Michael will always be my favorite, though. I had chewed Bianca’s ear off when I learned he isn’t in the show after season seven until the finale.

Somewhere around the third or fourth episode, Nova lifts me completely on his lap.

My head resting on his shoulder.

As he idly massages my scalp, then the rest of my body, I drift off to sleep.

***

I come awake hours later to Bunny’s and Maggie’s loud snoring.

I’m cocooned in the blanket in the semi-dark theater room with no sign of Nova. Leaning up on my elbow, I push my hair back and search my phone. It says seven in the evening and I abruptly sit upright.

I must have been really exhausted.

A yellow sticky note catches my eyes and I peel it off. It’s a message from Nova saying he’s gone to run an errand and will return soon. It doesn’t say when he left but I’m assuming he’ll be back soon.

Throwing off the blanket, I trail out to the hall.

Clanking and the sound of water running flows down to me. As I get closer, it’s from the direction of the kitchen, so I relax because it must be our cook, Tanu. The woman is like Santa, as I hardly ever see her, and instead of gifts, she leaves delicious food and homemade desserts and late-night snacks.

Which is wonderful because when I’m hidden away in my writing cave in the library, I like to munch on snacks in during breaks.

In the past, I would order online but I quickly realized they made for a bad eating habit. But Tanu’s homemade chips, crackers, and cookies are both healthy and tasty. I don’t know what she puts in them but they’re scrumptious as hell.

This is the perfect opportunity to thank her.

Speedwalking to the kitchen, I find her over the sink washing the dishes. She’s in her mid-fifties yet doesn’t look a day over forty. I found her super sweet and reserved from the little interactions we’ve had.

“Hey, Tanu Aunty,” I politely greet her.

With a smile, she glances over her shoulder at me. “Hello. Did you need something, Mrs. D’Cruz?”

Oh yeah! She’s super formal too.

“No. Actually, I wanted to say how much I love your cooking,” I reply with a laugh. “Especially the desserts and snacks you leave behind. Thank you for those.”

Switching off the tap, she dries her hands and turns to me with a confused frown. “Do you mean the ones I leave in the library?”

“Yes!”

Her eyes crinkle in the corners as she reveals, sending my heart pinballing behind my ribs, “I’m afraid you’re thanking the wrong person. Mr. Nova comes every two days to bake them for you in the afternoons. I was strictly told to put them in the library.”

I’m gaping at her, unblinking as I digest the bombshell she just dropped.

Nova’s been baking!

How the hell did I not know?

It’s when the doorbell rings that I yank myself out of my stupor. On autopilot, I reach the gate and open. A delivery boy stands while a bodyguard hovers behind, holding a rectangular box wrapped in beautiful gifting paper.

“Are you Rose?”

“Umm… yeah.”

“This is for you.”

I grab it when he passes it to me. “What is it?”

“No idea. Please sign here.”

He skips away afterward. I wait until I reach the master bedroom before tearing into the box. Inside is a stunning spiral book with a small card stuck to it. With trembling fingers, I flip it and read the message.

Just a small reminder what a talented and amazing writer you are.

~ Your hubby

And fan

With bated breath, I flip to the first laminated page and I can’t contain the loud gasp any more than the grateful tears. Each page has a five-star review my readers have written about my books over the years. It’s like going down memory lane—it’s my journey as an author. The love that reflects in the reviews fill me with the pride and confidence I desperately needed today after the earlier fiasco.

Just when I think Nova can’t surprise me any more, he goes and does this.

Overwhelmed, the truth hits me like a freight train.

I’ve fallen in love with my villain.