Page 228 of Hateful Games

“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.

Chapter Fifty-eight

Rosalie

Nova is facing the bar when I enter the beautifully lit deck, rivaling the stars in the night sky. A candlelit dinner table set in the middle.

At the sound of my heels, he turns.

His eyes turning molten at the sight of my dress.

A red cocktail gown.

I might’ve made an exception tonight. My own gait falters. My hungry gaze roaming down his solid frame in an all-black suit sans tie, hugging him in all the right places. He’s styled his hair tonight. Instead of being in disarray—the way I’m obsessed with—his locks are slicked back over his forehead. Highlighting the sharp angles of his sinful face.

His penetrating gaze washes over me in a caress.

They flare in carnality at the daring plunging neckline with ruching below my belly button. The halter neck style leaves my back completely nude while the long skirt flares out around my high heels.

Despite the cool wind, swirling because of the waves of the ocean, it’s his hooded stare sending a shiver down my spine.

I stay where I am when he takes a step toward.

He doesn’t rush in closing the distance, still dragging his hawklike gaze up my belly piercing to rest on my face.

My lips—swollen from his filthy kisses all day—tingle in anticipation. The tanned skin peeking through the unbuttoned top half of his shirt has me aching to press my mouth and taste the remnants of ocean salt on his skin.

Nova doesn’t pause once he’s close, sending my pulse racing. Like a predator homing in on his prey, he circles around me and stops behind my back. Still not touching me for long, tortuous seconds.

It’s sweet mercy when he finally does.

I moan low, arching up when he trails a singer along my naked spine.

“Why red?” His tone is low and gravelly. “Did you make an exception for me, Rose?”

“Maybe.”

“So, yes.” Brushing aside my curls to the front of my shoulder, his fingers wrap around the back of my neck. A reminder of his power and dominance over me. His hair and warm breath tease my collarbone. His mouth peppers me with soft kisses, nipping my skin with his teeth as they leave a wet trail to my ear.

“Nova,” I whimper when he bites the lobe.

“You’re looking like my meal, wife.” One arm hauls me flush against his hard body. His thick cock digging into my ass. “I’ve never seen someone so gorgeous and divine.”

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