Page 322 of Hateful Games

“She’s leaving me.”

My confession renders her shocked. “She loves you.”

“She never did.” A hollow chuckle slips past my mouth. Gazing into my mother’s heartbroken and guilty face, I accuse, “You’re the reason I’ll be living the same fate as you. Unrequited love. And you’re the reason I hardly have a relationship with my father, because all my life I thought of him as the bad guy, when it was you.”

I didn’t mean it. It was a mistake confronting her when I was hardly myself and freshly wounded from my encounter with Rosalie.

Mom called and texted, but I never replied.

Her drinking had escalated, as mentioned to me by the cook, but I stubbornly didn’t check on her.

I’m the reason she was drunk on booze and driving on the road today. I’m the reason she was on her way to Rosalie’s house to fix my marriage. That’s what her text said from three hours ago.

In a mere few days, I’ve lost the only two women I’ve ever loved.

Along with any humanity I possessed. Love and affection are fickle and weak emotions. Having attachments and wearing your heart on your sleeve only invites misery and emptiness.

Our story was and will always be a hateful game.

Rosalie has felt my love, now she’ll face my wrath.

Nothing is more dangerous than a man who has nothing left to lose.

Chapter Eighty-three

Rosalie

I’m taking a huge risk.

Being reckless.

But the thought of Nova being alone and grieving the loss of Teresa, I cannot not be with him. I will be the last person he wants to see and he’ll probably yell and kick me out, but that doesn’t stop me from sneaking out through the garage at midnight.

Taking a car is out of the question, lest I want to be caught.

Quietly, I walk out and duck past the two bodyguards before reaching the gate. The night guard is nowhere to be seen. Before he returns from wherever he’s gone, I unlock the small gate and skip into the deserted road.

Waiting for a cab driving past is my only hope.

I don’t know how long I hike on the sidewalk until I finally hail a taxi. Fortunate enough to find a decent cab driver. The sweet bald and old man smiles and asks for the address. I quickly fire it off and tell him to drive fast. He obliges while I stare out the window.

My heart beating an erratic rhythm.

The sudden and tragic passing of Teresa D’Cruz yesterday morning has taken the country by storm. She wasn’t gossiped about or remembered as much when she was alive compared to now. I don’t even think she had any real friends.

No one knew the demons she battled or the broken heart that pumped inside her.

The woman with the biggest heart, who showered me with nothing but love.

Treated me like a daughter far more deeply than my own mom ever has. My mom, who has no clue of the snake pit I’m stuck in while she’s traveling in some beautiful part of the world.

While I cried as soon as I heard my mother-in-law was gone, my father and uncle celebrated. Their sick happiness at seeing the D’Cruz men’s tragedy. I could hear the echoes of their laughter and glee down the hall to my bedroom where they kept me locked during the day. My phone with them.

Without it, I can’t even call Jasmine to protect me from the hellhole.

I haven’t let my father or uncle pick up on the fact that I haven’t given up my fight. I pretend to be scared, crying for good measure when they’re nearby. While waiting for the moment they let down their guards. Just one opportunity to slip into his office and destroy the evidence he has on Nova’s firm.

My father, as cunning as he may be, is also old fashioned. Instead of keeping a digital blackmailing history or details on his enemies, he keeps a hard copy. Once he’s extorted whatever it is he wants, he burns them in the fireplace in the study. Making the proof of his treachery disappear into ashes.

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