Page 284 of Hateful Games

How the hell did I not know?

It’s when the doorbell rings that I yank myself out of my stupor. On autopilot, I reach the gate and open. A delivery boy stands while a bodyguard hovers behind, holding a rectangular box wrapped in beautiful gifting paper.

“Are you Rose?”

“Umm… yeah.”

“This is for you.”

I grab it when he passes it to me. “What is it?”

“No idea. Please sign here.”

He skips away afterward. I wait until I reach the master bedroom before tearing into the box. Inside is a stunning spiral book with a small card stuck to it. With trembling fingers, I flip it and read the message.

Just a small reminder what a talented and amazing writer you are.

~ Your hubby

And fan

With bated breath, I flip to the first laminated page and I can’t contain the loud gasp any more than the grateful tears. Each page has a five-star review my readers have written about my books over the years. It’s like going down memory lane—it’s my journey as an author. The love that reflects in the reviews fill me with the pride and confidence I desperately needed today after the earlier fiasco.

Just when I think Nova can’t surprise me any more, he goes and does this.

Overwhelmed, the truth hits me like a freight train.

I’ve fallen in love with my villain.

Chapter Seventy-two

Nova

The floor occupying my office is empty except for me.

I stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass window as I gaze at the glittering lights of the city. While I wait for Arun’s arrival.

The man responsible for insulting my Rose and leaving her in tears.

Most of all, daring to joke about touching, let alone fucking, her.

Rage like no other had overpowered my veins, running hot and seeking violence. It was a miracle I didn’t stalk to him when I listened to every disgusting word and end his sorry excuse of a life.

My priority in that moment was taking care of Rosalie and erasing the awful memories. I’m furious for letting it occur in the first place. Blaming myself for not saving her from hearing them even though I couldn’t foresee it.

The other three have already been dealt with. Fired with no prospects of another job. While a nightmare awaits them tomorrow morning. They might as well wish they were dead because their lives are going to be one long hell.

Arun, though, a junior project manager at my company, he and I are going to have a chat before I announce his fate. The footage revealed he initiated the inappropriate and misogynistic conversation. I don’t give a fuck about people’s useless opinions. Earth is crawling with these fools.

But I draw the line when it comes to my woman.

No one fucks with what’s mine.

Tarnishes it with their tongue.

A knock sounds at my door, followed by a timid voice, “May I come in, Mr. D’Cruz?”

I turn and face a nervous-looking Arun, who already looks seconds away from pissing his pants. He should be scared. My calm is a thin veneer, keeping my dark savagery at bay.

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