Page 54 of Hateful Games

Rosalie

To say I’m livid is an understatement.

Cuffed to the bed like a sex slave in a dungeon, I fume staring at the bathroom door. That Nova slammed in my face ten minutes ago.

Just who the hell does he think he is? Couldn’t my dad just arrange my marriage to a man who ignored my existence like he does?

Everything about my devil’s spawn of a fiancé infuriates me. If I didn’t loathe him before, he’s now become the king of my shit list. Every trait of him makes me mad and feel damn unlucky. Nova behaves like an irredeemable asshole. Much like the ones I obsesses over in my books. However, with him there’s no chance of falling in love.

I swear I hate his arrogant smirk.

I hate his controlling, threatening, and manipulative attitude.

Most of all, I hate how easily he gets to me.

As if he knows all my little tells, the smallest of things that make me tick that no one else notices, and my weaknesses that he effortlessly uses against me. Like I’m nothing but a plaything.

I just had to keep my mouth shut and not give him the time of the day for the rest of my stay here. And I was actually doing just fine.

Even secretly relishing as he hovered close by. Demanding my attention with his laser-sharp intensity. It took everything inside me not to burn and claw at my skin. Every instinct screamed at me to chance a small glance.

But then I recalled his parting words from last night.

He had basically called me a slut for going—no, attempting to go—on a few measly failed dates. The ones he made sure to purposely sabotage. The man wasn’t even apologetic about it. Worse, he was proud.

What did you expect, Rosalie?

His sole purpose is to upend my life.

Besides, did he really think I was going to turn into a nun until he stops his manwhore ways and becomes devoted to me? Our marriage will never be a traditional one with meaningful vows. Till death do us part will be till one of us kills.

After all, it is sealed in hatred and deceit.

Forged in anger and mistrust.

That’s how it shall remain for eternity.

No matter how much he conceitedly claims that he and I are equals in this twisted arrangement, it is anything but. The god-awful truth is he’s playing a game where I’m not even privy to the rules.

His cruel acts today have only cemented my desire to lose my virginity. To hell if it hurts or if it’s not romantic. No way I’m saving myself for him, serving myself on a silver platter. Considering the bodyguard whom he has watching my every move, it’s becoming a very real possibility. Unless I do something about it.

After his possessive display in the kitchen, it’s obvious he believes he will claim me on our wedding night. And despises the thought of anyone coming close and stealing it. His possessiveness over me isn’t born from lust or protectiveness, but his need to control and own me.

Every inch of me.

One day, I’ll be the one to shatter his dreams. In a way he’ll never see coming.

Tonight is my only chance and I have to play my cards right.

Earlier I was satisfied with it being any masked man in the party, but now it has to be someone that’ll make Nova hurt and enrage him. A man who is his competition. One he trusts implicitly.

Someone like… Malcolm.

It helps that he’s attractive in a silent, broody type of way and probably knows what he’s doing in bed. Unlike our awkward meeting on the first day, he’s been my ally since I’ve been here and more welcoming than my own fiancé.

Satisfied with my plan, a smile curves my lips.

The clicking sound snaps me out of my daydreams.

---