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

Chapter Seventy-seven

Nova is nowhere to be seen.

After we danced, letting our wandering hands and lips do the talking, he received a call he had to take. Meanwhile, I hung out with Iris and Bianca and the others. It was peaceful but not enough to distract my head from playing Nova’s heartfelt admission in a loop. Regret sinks in that I didn’t confess my own.

That was an hour ago and there’s still no sign of him.

I’m searching for him inside the resort when Nathan approaches me. His face masked in impassiveness. “Nova had an urgent matter to attend to, Rosalie. Iris and I will drop you at home.”

His tone doesn’t sit right with me.

Neither does the tension in his body.

Besides, Nova wouldn’t leave without telling me himself. The fact he left so abruptly in the first place is troubling. After everything that happened tonight, he wouldn’t spend a minute apart from me unless something terrible has gone down.

A bad premonition stirs in my gut.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” he lies. “But he said he’ll be back soon.”

“Take me to him, Nathan.”

A crack in his indifference. “Rosalie.”

“I don’t care what he told you,” I sharply say. “Either you tell me where he went or take me there yourself.”

A war wages on his features as he contemplates whether or not to betray his friend’s trust. I’m not above guilt-tripping him into revealing Nova’s whereabouts. I have to know my husband is okay.

Does this have to do with his guarded behavior?

“Or you can wait until morning to hear from him?” he counters before sighing, “He doesn’t want to burden you, Rosalie.”

“I’m his wife,” I snap.

“Who tried to kill my best friend in front of my eyes. Are you saying you care for him now? I don’t trust you not to stab him in the back.”

“Fuck you, Nathan.”

“He’s blinded by you, I am not.” Vehemence drips from his mouth.

I shove past him, slamming my shoulder into his. “Never mind, I’ll find him myself.”

Except, I have no clue where to start.

Plus, my phone is with him.

I hear footsteps chase after me. Nathan brushes past, mumbling, “Let’s go.”

Instead of taunting him, I bite my tongue about what changed his mind. Reaching Nova my only priority. “Where’s Iris?”

“I’ll come get her later,” he curtly replies, unlocking his car. “Get in.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, I resist twisting my fingers in my dress as I gaze out the window. My mind running amok with dangerous and horrible thoughts. It cannot be related to work. It wouldn’t make him abruptly leave.

“At least tell me he’s okay, Nathan,” I brokenly ask, holding back the tremble.

He stares ahead at the road, one hand on the steering wheel. “He’s used to it.”

His evasive answer is unhelpful.

I let silence resume. After a few minutes, I sit up straight and make out the street taking us to Nova’s parents’ house. The gated community with one stunning house after another. Yet I can’t admire their beauty as we near my in-laws’ place.

Is it his mom? Dad?

Did they have a fight?

What did Nathan mean Nova’s used to it? I never suspected Nova came from a broken home. Every time I’ve met Danish and Teresa, they’ve seemed like a sweet couple. Always respectful to each other. They’re like a happy family, unlike mine.

We park in the circular driveway.

Nathan’s low voice stops me before I can step out. “He’ll be pissed, Rosalie. Don’t take anything personally.”

I get out from the car. Nathan doesn’t leave until I walk into the foyer, shutting the front door behind me. The house looks the same as the last time I was here, the furniture in their usual spots while dim lighting guides my path. The ground floor is devoid of life.

However, the kitchen is a mess.

Like it hasn’t been cleaned in days. It reeks as unwashed dishes overflow in the sink, broken shards of glass litter the tiled floor while empty alcohol bottles decorate the kitchen island.

I almost believe I’ve entered the wrong house. Except, a childhood photo of Nova with his mom is on the refrigerator.

What the hell has happened here?

Switching directions, I travel toward the staircase leading to the second floor. My heart in my throat, mind riddled with anxiety and confusion as I climb the steps. My heels clap on the floor as I skip Nova’s bedroom and instead go toward his parents’.

A gut instinct guiding me.

The silence is too overbearing and sickening. Until I hear a low and pained moaning sound, followed by light streaming into the hallway from his parents’ master bedroom. When it repeats, I hastily cross the distance, worried that anyone is hurt.

Pushing open the ajar door, I screech to a halt. The bedroom is messier than the kitchen. Clothes strewn all over the floor and unmade bed, empty and half-empty alcohol bottles littering the floor. The whole room reeking of alcohol and piss. Telltale signs of someone going on a binge-drinking spree.

I catch Nova’s suit jacket draped over the rocking chair in the corner.

Is Danish an alcoholic? Did he hurt Teresa? My eyes snap to the adjoined bathroom, wide open. I cautiously reach it.

Nothing prepares me for the sight inside.

Nova is hunched over a kneeling Teresa, barely conscious, puking into the toilet. She is unrecognizable in a stained white maxi dress with thin straps, one falling down her shoulder. Her greasy hair is held back by Nova’s grip.

A tortured sound falls from my lips.

Nova’s head swivels in my direction.

When his dark eyes clash with mine, I stagger back a step watching them become livid. Before he can probably berate me, Teresa coughs and pushes against his hold, leaning up. He carefully helps her upright and stretches to flush the toilet.

The stench of vomit heavy.

My mother-in-law is too drunk to notice my presence and rests her head on her son’s lap while he cleans her mouth with a wet washcloth. His movements of a person who’s done this a million times. The shadows on his face carrying years of burden.

The truth hits like a wrecking ball.

Nova’s been living in a glass house too, full of secrets and damage. I let myself be fooled that his family is perfect. Heck, I secretly envied it. There’s still so much I don’t know.

I watch numbly as he hooks one arm under his mother’s knees and another below her head to pick her up. He doesn’t meet my eyes, shoulders bunched tight as he walks closer. Teresa’s clothes look like they haven’t been changed in days.

Fuck. How long has she been drinking? And why?

My uncle drank but it made him stronger and turned him into a monster. Teresa simply looks broken and tormented. What could haunt a beautiful soul like her into a sickening habit?

Stepping in Nova’s path, I place my hand on his arm. “She can’t sleep like this.”

“I told Nathan not to bring you here.”

I don’t show hurt at his cold tone and remind myself of Nathan’s advice. “She needs a shower, Nova. It’ll make her feel better.”

Teresa stirs, eyelids blinking at me. “Rosalie?”

“I’m here,” I whisper, tucking hair behind her ear. “Put her down, Nova. I’ll help her and bring her outside.”

“She’s not your responsibility, Rose.”

“It wasn’t a question.” My voice is firm.

After what feels like a long silence but is mere seconds, he lowers her to the ground. I put her arm around my shoulders and take her weight, which isn’t much at all. She’s feels so fragile, I’m afraid she’ll break if I let her slip.

“Leave a change of clothes,” I ask an unmoving Nova. He looks worried and I reassure him, “I can take care of her. If I need help, I’ll holler.”

He’s unsettled and angry at my presence, but still listens. Then shuts the door on his way out. I focus on Teresa, who I manage to walk inside the shower stall without tripping. She mumbles to herself, gaze pinched and sad as I methodically remove her clothes. Keeping one hand to steady her, I gently soap her up and clean her. She hums in satisfaction, especially when I wash her hair. My dress luckily doesn’t get much wet that I need to change. Once done, I quickly towel dry and help her into fresh clothes.

Through it all, she doesn’t sober, doesn’t acknowledge me, I may as well be a stranger. A million mysterious questions run through my head. How many nights has Nova run to her and taken care of her?

I didn’t know her health and mental issues went this deep.

It saddens me for her and Nova both.

And where the hell is Danish?

Helping Teresa to her feet, arm over my shoulder, I enter the bedroom. A cleaner version of it. Nova immediately appears before us and takes her weight off me. Wordlessly, he lays her down on the bed and covers her with a blanket.

I fight back tears when he sits beside her and hums a tune, brushing her hair until her unintelligible talking lulls her into a slumber. I conceal my emotions, not wanting him to mistake it for pity, as he rises and walks out.

I follow him like a shadow as he descends the stairs and makes his way to the kitchen.

Tension cloaks him, his earlier anger returning. Never have I seen him so quiet and vulnerable. He obviously didn’t want me to know. Does he think I’ll judge him? Or does he hold the same distrust as Nathan?

I shut that concern down fast.

Nova loves me.

Lingering near the island, I break the silence when he busies himself in cleaning the shards of glass. “I forced Nathan into bringing me to you.”

“If I needed you, I would’ve brought you myself.”

“I was worried.”

“I’m fine, Rose.” His tone is snippy. He moves to throw the empty bottles. “I’ve been taking care of my mom for years.”

“Where’s your father?”

“On a trip.” Under his breath, he curses, “As always.”

“Does he not know?” I flinch when he throws the last bottle too hard.

“Just go upstairs, Rose,” he snaps, the last shred of his patience gone as he stalks to the full sink.

Unafraid, I bridge the gap and grab his hand before he can make contact with the dishes. “Look at me.”

He does but his gaze holds none of the tenderness I’m accustomed to. They are devoid of life and locking away all the tumultuous emotions. Unlike me, it’s the first time his vulnerability has risen to the surface. Open and raw.

“Stop pushing me away, Nova.”

Shoving away from me, he runs one hand through his hair and says in hard voice, “My family isn’t as perfect as you thought it was. That’s all you need to know.”

Twisting away, he walks out.