Page 109 of Hateful Games

I chuckle humorlessly when she doesn’t and steel my face into impassiveness.

Because my wrath will scare her.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“How?” she whispers.

“I’ll recognize your flaming red hair and maroon lips anywhere. They’ve haunted me since the first time I laid eyes on them. So much that they’ve burned into my psyche.”

Searching my face, whatever she sees has her muttering, “I don’t belong to you, Nova. You have no right to be upset if I slept with another man. Not when you’ve been doing the same, sleeping with other women. Not when you’ve sabotaged and made sure to not let another man within an inch of me.”

“And yet you could’ve picked any other man that night but you chose him. It might not have been to upset me but it sure as fuck was to spite me. You want nothing to do with me but your actions have always been in retaliation to mine. Malcolm was no different.”

She swallows and shakes her head. “It’s… it’s not true.”

“He may have claimed your body, Rose, but I’m going to own your mind and your soul.”

Straightening, I slam the door in her beautifully scared face.

Willing my rage to lessen, I stare at my reflection while trying to forget the stabbing memory of hearing her scream Malcolm’s name.

That single shout has been my biggest nightmare for the past eight years.

It was in that moment I knew Rosalie Kapoor has sunk way deeper in my veins than I imagined. That she may very well be my downfall.

If I let her.

***

Fifteen minutes later, I’m dressed in a new suit and yank open my door.

Except it doesn’t budge.

Irritated, I pull again harder and I’m met with resistance.

“Damn you, little hellion,” I mutter. She fucking locked me in. I should’ve known. I obviously haven’t learned my lesson from the time she cuffed me when we were alone.

New priority task—get rid of all the locks in my house.

Probably should add insurance too.

God knows, what creative ways she’ll come up with to wreck my place every time I piss her off. Which is always.

Thank fuck, I have my phone with me unlike the last time. Or I’d be wasting my energy breaking this door down, which opens on the outside. Taking it out from my pocket, I grudgingly dial Nathan’s number. The prick is going to be smug.

I’m never living this one down.

He picks up on the first ring and demands, “Where the hell are you? Rosa came downstairs a while back and disappeared with Iris and Bianca. Their expressions screamed cats who ate the canary.”

“Come upstairs.”

He goes quiet and suspiciously asks, “Why?”

“I’m stuck.”

“Stuck?”

I heave a sigh and rub at my eye. “She locked me inside the bathroom.”

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