Page 67 of Hateful Games

“Get what?” I demand.

None of them answer as Nova peruses what is apparently his phone while Malcolm wears his signature look of boredom. Except, there’s unmistakable heat in his eyes as they roam over me.

I glance back at Nova and catch sight of our photo since I’m still dumbly standing close to him. Suspicious, I demand more firmly, “What are you going to do with that?”

“Post it, of course.”

Where he gropes my ass for the world to see? Hell no.

“I don’t think so,” I retort. “Delete them, Nova.”

“No.”

He effortlessly slaps my hand away and lifts his arm out of my reach when I try to steal his phone and do it myself.

“I didn’t give you permission to take my photo.” My temper is rising. “Don’t you dare post it.”

Nova’s account is public and it’ll spread like wildfire. No one’s going to say anything to him but I’ll be the victim to the cruel jokes. No way that picture isn’t indecent.

We must look seconds away from fucking.

I can’t even think of the lecture I’ll receive from Dad for tarnishing our family name.

“Our relationship needs to seem real, Rose. The bullshit story we’ve fed the media needs to look and sound believable,” Nova says, his voice cold. “My dad didn’t miss the glare you aimed my way and demanded I start posting our pictures like a normal couple.”

Understanding dawns about what just happened a few minutes ago. His teasing and seductive touches, it was all an act. To do his father’s bidding. And I stupidly fell for it.

I’m once again appalled by his manipulative streak.

Why does my chest burn? As though hurt.

“Do you think a single picture will magically fix it?”

“It’s a start.”

“And you couldn’t bother to simply ask me?”

His lips—that I almost begged to kiss me—twist cruelly. “It had to look natural.”

“Not everyone is as good an actor as you.”

“You should learn. It’s the only way you’ll survive my world.” Pocketing his phone, he turns to leave and calls back over his shoulder, “Let’s go, Colm.”

Malcolm lingers back. “Trouble.”

“It’s Rosalie.” My tone is biting. Butthurt he helped Nova without telling me, I walk past him. He grabs my wrist until I look back at him.

“I aimed the camera above your waist.”

“How gentlemanly of you!” I taunt humorlessly. Jerking my hand out of his, I go in search of Miya.

Fuck Nova.

Fuck Malcolm.

I’m getting drunk and dancing the night away, while vowing to never let any man have the upper hand again. Tonight was the last time.

Chapter Nineteen

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