Page 224 of Hateful Games

“Can you blame me? I have a sexy wife.”

“You got lucky.”

A thousand percent.

“Now, do not disturb me while I write,” she sternly orders.

“See, you’re a natural, Miss Sexy Librarian.”

Rolling her eyes, she focuses on the laptop. I’m about to go and grab mine to work when her confession stops me.

“I told the girls I’m an author.”

I caress her soft cheek. “That’s amazing, Rose.”

“It was freeing. They were mad I kept it a secret but still super happy for me.”

“Did you think they wouldn’t be?”

“No. I was scared for no reason.”

“Listen to me, Rose. If you want to achieve something big, you need to believe in yourself and take a big risk. No one has reached the top without going all in or nothing. At some point, you just have to take that leap without worrying about the consequences. No matter what the people around you are saying. Those are the same people who don’t have the balls to chase their own dreams and let the world dictate the course of their lives.” Peering into her shiny eyes, I tell her, “But none of that can happen if you keep hiding, Rose. You’re the fiercest women I’ve ever met. I wish you would see it from my eyes. Be brave. If your heart says to tell everyone that you’re gifted and achieved your dreams, don’t let anything or anyone stop you. Especially your fears. When you’re ready, I’ll be by your side. Somebody dares to make you feel otherwise, I’ll end them.”

Chapter Fifty-seven

Rosalie

Italy is a place that is a unique and heavenly experience every time I’ve visited.

This time is no different.

Perhaps it’s because of the unexpected company of Nova. The man I vowed to hate. The same man who vowed to make me burn for eternity. Yet, the flames in which he’s trying to drown and envelop me in, I don’t want to escape.

I want to stay and let its warmth sink into me.

To let it consume me.

The more time we’re spending together, with him being an attentive, adoring, and compassionate husband, the more my cynic mind is screaming he’s too good to be true. Rather than eviscerate my walls, I want to carve more to protect my heart.

To guard myself against the inevitability of us wrecking each other apart.

But how do I convince my heart, that is waging a war against my brain? The beating organ inside my chest doesn’t care about the hurdles, the wretched history between our families or that only two weeks ago, he was my vindictive enemy.

It throbs harder when he’s nearby.

Races every time his hands are on my skin. Touching me like I’m a treasure.

Drugging me with his toe-curling and provocative kisses. Each kiss is a different feeling. Sometimes, they are soft and gentle. Teasing when he finds my retorts funny or cute. A soft peck when he thinks I am asleep. Punishing when I disobey him or make him scared. My favorite, my kryptonite—the hard and open-mouthed kisses where our teeth and tongue are battling for dominance.

Nothing makes my heart crumble and wear down than when he makes violent vows.

Promises to slay my demons.

The thoughtful gifts, meant for my well-being.

I shouldn’t want to weep, hug, and kiss him when he does all those. Not even in my wildest dreams could I have imagined Nova will give the other men a run for their money in the husband’s role.

I sure as hell don’t make it easy.

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