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

Chapter Eighty-five

My head pounds as if someone is repeatedly hitting it with a hammer.

Rosalie’s wounded and heartbroken face is the last thing I remember before I picked up another bottle and drank as if it’s holy water. Kept at it until I passed out.

When the pounding doesn’t stop, I realize it’s my phone ringing repeatedly.

Who the fuck is calling?

My neck is sore when I raise my head and the view of my disastrous living room takes shape. I blink and rub the blurriness from my eyes, my throat parched and tasting like vomit. It’s worth it, though.

The voices in my head had quieted for those hours.

A dull calmness.

No thoughts.

No pain.

A dark and pitiless void.

Nathan’s name flashes on the screen and with a groan, I pick it up. “What?”

“Where the fuck are you?”

The room spins when I sit upright on the couch at his angry voice. “Just tell me why you called, Nathan. I said I want to be left alo—”

“Haven’t you seen the news?” he cuts me off, a panic and anxiety in his voice I’ve never heard before. A tensed pause and he sighs, “Rosalie is in the hospital, Nova.”

I swear my heart stops beating altogether. The earth yanks from beneath my feet. Did I hear him right? It has to be a nightmare.

No! She can’t be gone too.

“Who hurt her? Which hospital?” I rapidly ask, my lungs suffocating.

He continues over my silence, “There was a fire at her house last night and she barely made in out once the guards called the fire department and the police. She is severely battered, man. The doctor said she was beaten and has cracked ribs and broken bones. Why wasn’t she with you?”

What have I done?

Everything from last night comes rushing back. One flashback after another. My first thought is she wasn’t lying. Did I almost get her killed? My gut churns as I swallow the bile rising in my throat.

Someone beat herkeeps chanting in my head like a bad omen.

I could’ve saved her. Stopped her from leaving. Her father must’ve done this. I knew what a horrible man he was and yet I taunted her and kicked her out to go to him. Because I was lashing out and wanted to hurt her.

The one thing I vowed to never do.

“Tell me she’s okay, Nathan.”

“I-I don’t know. She hasn’t regained consciousness yet. The trauma to her head from falling down the stairs was too hard. Had she been stuck upstairs, she wouldn’t have survived.” His voice cracks, struggling to speak. “Dash and I are with the girls with her. They’re distraught and haven’t stopped crying for a minute.”

“Text me the hospital’s name.”

I hang up and forget about everything except reaching her.

The ride to the parking lot is a blur as guilt, regret, anger, and paralyzing fear cripples me. My mind plagued and shouting that I made a terrible fucking mistake. Flashbacks of last night repeat over and over.

The awful things I yelled.

The violence.

Without a doubt, I know everything she uttered was true. It means her uncle is alive and he must’ve been in on it too. My actions are reprehensible. I let her walk into danger, to her own attack and demise.

I thought I was incapable of feeling anything anymore. I thought I knew anguish and sorrow. None of it compares to knowing I almost lost my Rose.

My beautiful wife.

Why didn’t I believe her? She came back and told me she loved me. How could I have been so cruel? I was no better than her father.

Settling behind the wheel two minutes later, I pull into the road and break every single traffic law as I drive at full speed. Horns blare and yelling ensues but I don’t fucking care. My hands tremble on the steering wheel while the other is fisted on my lap.

“Please don’t let it be too late,” I pray for the first time in my life. “I can’t lose her.”

The tires screech as I park in front of the hospital’s double doors.

I shake the memory of my mom’s passing to the back of my mind.

My only priority is my Rose.

“Rosalie D’Cruz,” I shout at the reception. “Which room is she in?”

She startles at my disheveled state, the strong smell of liquor, and guardedly says, “I’m sorry, sir. Only family is allowed upstairs. No one is allowed unless the police have talked to them first.”

“I’m her husband!” I angrily shout. “The room number. Now!”

Swallowing at my display of rage, she relents and gives me the information I need.

I run past another revolving set of doors, taking the stairs for the second floor two steps at a time. The room she’s in is at the end of the hall. I see Nathan and Iris sitting on a bench, his arm protectively around her shoulder as she rests her head on his, while Dash holds a quietly sobbing Bianca on his lap.

She sees me first.

Fury darkens her features unlike I’ve ever seen before and it’s aimed right at me. Dash notices too late before she’s lurching out of his arms and stalking in my direction. One hard jerk and I almost stumble from her ferocity.

“How dare you show your face now,” she yells in agony. Tears make a mess of her face as she accuses, “How could you let her go back to her father? Why was she there, Nova? What did you do!?”

Dash appears behind and shadows her back.

“I need to see her,” is all I can muster.

She reads the guilt written on my face as plain as day.

“Oh my god!” she gasps, crying out. “You did send her. No! You’ll stay away from her.”

She defiantly stands in my path, ready to shove me back when I take a step forward. Her palms slap on my chest, but before I can take ahold of her small wrist and push her aside, I’m slammed into the nearest wall with a powerful shove.

“Don’t think I won’t hit you if you lay a finger on her,” threatens Dash without raising his voice, an elbow crushing my throat. “Answer her first. Did you have a hand in this?”

“Yes. I fucked up.” I stand toe to toe against him, pushing against his grip. Hangover or not, I’ll kill him if he stays in my way. “Regardless, none of you are keeping me away from my wife.”

“Step back, Dash,” Nathan says lowly.

“Dash,” murmurs Bianca, touching his bicep.

He listens to her. After one warning glare my way, he lowers his arm.

Bianca replaces his place, looking up at me with the saddest expression ever. “Was your revenge really worth getting her almost killed?”

“You don’t know the whole story, Bianca. Don’t make judgments,” I tell her. “Now step away.”

“No,” says Iris vehemently.

“Iris,” softly murmurs Nathan.

She turns to him, angrily growling, “He’s the reason she’s lying on that hospital bed. How can you even take his side? He’s done nothing but torment Ro. I thought he had changed, but apparently not.” Whipping her stormy and wounded eyes to mine, she demands, “It was you, wasn’t it? The article about her mom and your father’s affair. You knew it would destroy her family yet you did it anyways. Jasmine couldn’t be here because the media is all over her house.”

“You never deserved her,” accuses Bianca, falling apart and burying her face in Dash’s chest. “I can’t lose her, Dash.”

“You won’t,” he murmurs in her hair, leading her to sit on a chair. “She’ll be okay, kitten. Shh… it’s okay.”

“Maybe you should come later, Nova,” suggests Nathan sadly.

“I’m not going anywhere.” My voice is unflinching. “You’ll have to drag me dead out of here. It’s the only way I’m leaving.”

I shove past them and before they can stop me, I rush inside her room.

Only to be brought to my knees.

“Rose.” Her name rips from deep inside my chest.

Her stunning face is covered in black-and-blue bruises, split and swollen lips, while her left arm is in a cast. She also has another cast on her right ankle. An oxygen mask helps her to breathe as she lies broken and unconscious. The beeping noise of the machine doesn’t even register over the tattered remains of my soul.

I stumble to her side, touching her unbroken hand, interlocking our fingers.

She doesn’t stir, not even a flutter of her eyelashes.

A wet drop lands on the top of the sheet covering her.

I blink, realizing they’re falling from my eyes. Even as I stared at my mother’s prone body, I didn’t cry. Yet, seeing my stubborn and strong Rosalie lying still has reduced me to tears.

“I’m so sorry, Rose,” I whisper, sitting down when my strength weakens. Running my hand through her hair, I whisper even though she can’t hear me, “Forgive me. Wake up, please. I need you, Rose.”

I hold her palm between both of mine and kiss it.

“Come back to me. I’m here.”

Silently crying, my chest hollow, I stare at her sleeping form. Every second she doesn’t open her eyes, I die a little more inside. Concern for her overweighs the rage boiling underneath.

Her uncle and father.

I should’ve dug deeper.

No clue how much time passes when the door clicks open. I don’t even look up as I growl, “I’m not leaving her.”

“Not asking you to,” replies Nathan. “She’ll make it, Nova. Don’t worry.”

“How can I not? It’s because of my mistake she’s lying here.”

“You can’t blame yourself.”

I sharply meet his solemn eyes. “Bianca and Iris were right. I don’t deserve her. I’ve brought her nothing but pain.”

He goes quiet.

“Who else was found at the house?” I already know the answer but I still pray I’m wrong and that I didn’t make the biggest mistake of my life last night by sending her away. Refusing to believe her because I was angry and fell for her father’s crafted treachery.

“Two more bodies. Her father, who has also admitted, and a third dead body, who they are trying to identify,” he replies. “Why do you ask?”

“The other is her uncle. Mihir faked his brother’s death after he assaulted Rosalie when she was a kid.”

“Fuck.”

“I all but served her on a platter to them, Nathan. She almost died trying to protect me. How am I ever going to fix it? I can’t survive without her. I barely made it a week before turning to the bottle and self-destructing without her.”

He rounds the bed to stand by my side and lays a supportive hand on my shoulder. Squeezing, he says, “You’re going to fix it by loving and fighting for her. No matter how long it takes.”

I’ll never leave her side or stop loving her, even if it’s from afar.

After a while, Nathan leaves. However, I’m not alone for long before Bianca and Iris enter the room. Neither of us say anything and simply watch Rosalie, waiting and praying for her to wake up.

The doctor came by to check on her twice, removed the oxygen mask when she was able to breathe on her own, and kept repeating to me that her body needs rest to heal. That she’ll wake up soon and to not stress. Meanwhile, the police came by once and told me to call them as soon as she wakes up to take her statement. After they got nothing substantial from questioning us. I kept the information of the third person being her uncle to myself.

Mihir, on the other hand, has suffered severe burns after the ceiling fell on top of him. They’re keeping him sedated. It’s become public knowledge that the fire was deliberate. I’m saying nothing of my suspicions until Rosalie wakes up.

While her mother, Lily, is flying from Greece and will land tomorrow morning.

I don’t move a muscle from beside her and decline any offer of food.

Like I could stomach any.

I’m resting my head on the side of the bed, my hand wrapped around hers, when it shifts. A small movement that I would’ve missed if I wasn’t closely counting every single breath she was taking.

Her hand moves again and I look up into a pair of dark eyes that own me.

Standing, I lean over and tuck her hair away, feeling like I can finally breathe again without it suffocating me. I roughly whisper, “Rose.”

She slowly blinks.

Her lips part, expression twisting in pain, and says in a weak voice, “Nova.”

“I’m here.” I kiss her forehead. “You’re okay, Rose.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but we get interrupted by the door opening and nurses and the doctor running inside. Behind her, Bianca, Dash, Iris, and Nathan join us. The girls cry out in relief and hug each other.

I gaze back at Rosalie and wish I hadn’t.

Because the relief I saw earlier has shifted into indifference.

A sinking feeling spreads and taunts me…

I’ve lost her, truly.