Rosalie comes storming in, guns blazing—figuratively speaking. The front door to my apartment slamming behind her while a pissed Miya trails after her, staring at me with disappointment.
A blazing fury of fire, wrath, and beauty stops right before me.
I lean back and relax against the couch. Malcolm glancing once at the girls before resuming to scroll on his phone, as if it has the most riveting sight on earth on it.
He’s fooling no one.
“You put a fucking bodyguard on me!” yells Rosalie with barely concealed rage, throwing her shopping bags to the side.
So, the cat’s out of the bag. I don’t bother denying it.
Instead, I quietly watch her.
Roaming my eyes down the length of her body, I take in the black turtleneck sweater molded to her skin. The curvy shape of her breasts pressing against the soft material as her chest rises and falls with her angry pants.
A lesser man would quake in his boots at the stormy expression locked on her face.
Yet all it makes me ache to do is piss her off more.
So, I do. By unashamedly admiring her supple figure as she stands with her hands perched on her narrow waist.
Her outfit would be modest if she wasn’t wearing the tightest and shortest fucking leather skirt known to mankind. The hem of which barely reaches the tops of her thighs, showcasing her toned and long legs. Black stockings with knee-high boots complete her showstopper-worthy look.
She doesn’t show a stitch of her skin, yet I’m driven mad with the need to touch her.
Especially when she stares at me likes she wants to throttle me.
The truth slaps me in the face.
I hate her as deeply as I want her.
Naked. Writhing. Screaming. Underneath me.
“Up here, you ass.” She clicks her fingers in my face in annoyance. Her hips cocked to the side as she sharply accuses, “You went too far, Nova.”
Hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, her cheeks are a darker shade of rose that matches the color of her long tresses. I wonder if it’s because of the cold or… me.
My fingers tingle from remembering the silky smooth feel between my hands in the locker room. Instead, I ball my hand into a fist.
“Too far, as in more than you almost killing me?” I ask coolly.
Miya’s jaw drops in stark horror behind Rosalie, who hardly pays her any attention.
“A mistake I’m deeply regretting,” Rosalie retorts.
“Are you seriously having her followed, Nono?”
I stare at my little cousin pointedly when she calls me by the nickname she gave me when we were kids. She was just learning her first words and found it difficult to say my name. Once she called me Nono, it just stuck.
Ignoring her, I focus on my fiancée and answer with a smile. “Yes.”
“Just because we’re engaged doesn’t mean you have the right to invade my privacy like that.”
“Actually, it’s exactly why I do, Rose.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yet I have been doing it for the last two years.”
Utter shock transforms her features before the redness on her cheeks deepens in anger. My casual tone pissing her off, and she takes a step forward, one hand balled into a fist.
I raise my eyebrow challengingly, daring her to hit me.
But her stubbornness to not touch me wins.
Such a shame.
Rosalie may believe I have my security detail on her to assert my dominance in our relationship, but she couldn’t be more wrong. My intention at first was to only be her shadow, especially when rumors about our secret engagement began circulating.
I wanted to know the real her, not the one her father painted to the media. Maybe one or two dirty secrets to have the upper hand.
Just another plot device to ruin her.
So, I hired a personal bodyguard independently, who watched her twenty-four seven and reported back to me for a couple of days.
It makes me a bloody bastard. But fuck if I care.
A small part of me also wanted to protect her. Mind-boggling, I know. But the truth all the same. Especially as vivid memories of my own kidnapping flared. Her family may be dangerous but they are nothing compared to mine. My enemies are the ones that lurk in the dark. They wouldn’t hesitate to use her against me as a weakness.
Because to the public, we’re a happy couple, whose love brought the two rival families together. A spin put in the media so no one uncovers the real ugly truth.
The first time I sabotaged her date after replaceing out about it, I did it for my own amusement.
But with the next and then another, it became a toxic addiction. It became about control. About the power I had over my fiancée without her even knowing it. Besides, I didn’t secretly upend her life, ruin her dates, and threaten each man just so some nameless asshole can steal her for himself.
Until today, I’ve been patiently waiting for the day she replaces out, just to see which creative way she’ll use to try to kill me next.
“Why?” she demands.
“To protect you, of course.”
“As it appears, it’s you I need protection from.”
I hold back laughter when she air-quotes protection. “I would be more concerned with your blind dates.”
Gaze widening in disbelief, her jaw grinds. I wait for the wheels to turn in her head as she connects the dots. I smirk when recognition dawns and she curses, “You bastard!”
That does it.
She launches herself at me. I easily dodge her fist coming for my face and grab her around the waist. I use her momentum to pick her up in my arms and rise from the couch. Wouldn’t want her to mistakenly flash her panties to my friend.
Twisting her arms behind her back, I cross and hold them hostage.
“What the hell did you do to my dates, you controlling, manipulative dickhead?” she hurls in my ear, trying her best to uncuff herself out of my hold. It only enrages her more, like a wildcat, when she fails.
“I’m going to have a private chat with my lovely fiancée,” I tell the other two bystanders in my living room, one watching with her mouth agape. One moment I’m distracted, the next I hiss in pain because Rosalie decides to use the only weapon she has left—her teeth. They lock on my collarbone sharply. Locking my fist in her hair, I tug her head back and earn a satisfied smirk in return. I mumble to the others, “Sorry, I mean my bratty fiancée.”
“Then stop picking me up like a child, idiot.”
“You better hope to God you didn’t draw blood, little hellion.”
“Aww, is it hurting?” she taunts with a pout. “Pussy.”
Malcolm’s shoulders shake in silent laughter.
“Stop. Both of you,” scolds Miya. “Quit being an arsehole, Nono. What you did wasn’t right at all. We were both scared for our lives.”
“Stay out of this, Miya.”
“Put me down,” snaps Rosalie.
I hike her higher until she’s hanging off my shoulder and her ass is in my face, tempting me to spank it red. She wisely doesn’t hit or bite me, as if remembering the spanking from the fight night.
Miya tries to follow us when I lead Rosalie down the hall. But doesn’t make it one step before Malcolm grabs her wrist without lifting his eyes from the phone and holds her back.
Reaching my bedroom, I step through and lock us inside. Once again, I lower a pissed Rosalie to the floor and cage her against the door.
“Why didn’t half of my dates show up, Nova?” Her tone is demanding and all business. “What the hell did you threaten them with?”
“Why would you assume I threatened them?”
“Because you’re a Neanderthal.”
“You’ll run out of insults at the rate you’re going, Rose.” Tilting my head, I don’t dare drop my gaze to her siren red lips. Afraid I’ll want a bite and show her the way I like to draw blood. “As for your silly and pathetic dates, I gave them a choice.”
“What choice?”
“A choice as old as time. Love or money.”
“You paid them off to embarrass me?” Pushing against my chest with all her might, she growls, “To fucking ghost me? And for what? Just to fuck with my life? It isn’t your playground.”
When I don’t budge, she furiously hits my chest with her fists, pouring out her frustration at my betrayal.
Shoving her arms over her head, I tame her with a hand on her delicate neck. Immediately, she stills.
“Behave, Rose.” Her soft pants tease my collarbone when I dip my head. “I told you communication is a two-way street. If all you wish to do is throw a tantrum, I’ll give you a fucking time-out in the corner.”
“Did you smoke this ideology when you sent a bodyguard to follow me around? ’Cause I don’t remember that two-way communication,” she counters. “And do not feed me the bullshit excuse of wanting to protect me. You want to control and micromanage my life, that’s the goddamn truth.”
“If I wanted that, I wouldn’t have been discreet about it and stopped you after the first embarrassing date,” I confess and threaten in the same breath. “Know this, you’re not fucking or flirting with another man ever again on my watch.”
“You’re out of your mind if I’m letting you touch me, wife or not.”
I squeeze her throat, feeling her pulse pound harder. “What do you call this?”
Glaring, she slaps my hand away. Only because I let her.
Pulling away, I shrug with a small grin, “How about you think of it as a favor? I screened those guys and they didn’t make the cut.”
“How about you shove your double standards up your ass?”
“Do you really want to be with someone who is that easy to buy off?”
“What I want is the choice to make the decision myself.”
“Too late.”
Lifting her chin defiantly, she orders. “You will call off your lap dogs, Nova.”
“No. However, your dating days are long behind you. I’ve already taken the liberty of deleting all your dating profiles.”
“I’m telling my father.”
I laugh. I just can’t help it. “I’m sure he’ll agree with me wanting to guard my fiancée from potential rapists and kidnappers.” I smirk before continuing, “And he would absolutely appreciate me stopping my future wife from making a joke out of us by going on dates while being engaged.”
“Oh yeah, like you’ve been such a saint all these years,” she taunts. “For fuck’s sake, the minute I arrived, Malcolm assumed I was just another girl in the long line of bimbos.”
“I trust him to keep his mouth shut,” I reply dismissively and reiterate, “and you will continue to use my bodyguard. It’s better now that you know anyways. He won’t have to hide anymore.”
“A bodyguard without my knowledge or consent is called stalking,” she sneers.
“Then he will continue to stalk you until I say otherwise.”
“Hard to do if you’re blind.”
I still at the blatant threat she innocently utters, pretending to examine her nails. I hate when I immediately notice she’s gotten new nails because today their color is a bright red with glittery edges unlike the shiny black ones she had yesterday.
I cross my arms. “What are you implying?”
“You heard me.”
In all of the drama, I completely forgot to confirm how she found out about Rudra, her bodyguard. I simply assumed she must have noticed him or something.
“How exactly did you replace out about Rudra?”
Her innocent expression doesn’t waver. “At the moment, he’s lying behind a dumpster in a dark alley somewhere. Probably searching for water to wash out all the pepper spray from his eyes. A whole bottle, just FYI.”
At the same time, my phone pings with a text. Amusement gone, I harden my gaze and keep it pinned on her as I pull it out of my back pocket and quickly read it.
RUDRA: Sorry, boss. Miss Rosalie found out. I’m at the hospital. Hence, the delay in informing you.
As soon as I finish reading the message, the tension in the room drops an octave. Rosalie senses it and turns serious. My voice is cool and collected but she doesn’t miss the sharp edge to it. “He was only doing his job, Rose.”
“A job I wasn’t aware of and certainly didn’t hire him for.”
“You better not have caused him serious damage.”
“If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.” Unafraid, she steps closer and accuses, “You’re the one who always forces me to take extreme actions. One day might come when you’ll go too far and I’ll do something we won’t be able to come back from. Stop controlling my life, Nova. I mean it.”
My words stop her when she tries to leave, her hand on the knob.
“Then you better start acting like the D’Cruz family’s future daughter-in-law and stop slutting around. I don’t even want to catch a whiff of you having an affair.”
She flinches before facing me and sealing her expression to one of stark iciness.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to slut around discreetly.”
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