Hateful Games: (An arranged marriage billionaire romance) (Arranged Games Book 2)
Chapter 15

To say I’m livid is an understatement.

Cuffed to the bed like a sex slave in a dungeon, I fume staring at the bathroom door. That Nova slammed in my face ten minutes ago.

Just who the hell does he think he is? Couldn’t my dad just arrange my marriage to a man who ignored my existence like he does?

Everything about my devil’s spawn of a fiancé infuriates me. If I didn’t loathe him before, he’s now become the king of my shit list. Every trait of him makes me mad and feel damn unlucky. Nova behaves like an irredeemable asshole. Much like the ones I obsesses over in my books. However, with him there’s no chance of falling in love.

I swear I hate his arrogant smirk.

I hate his controlling, threatening, and manipulative attitude.

Most of all, I hate how easily he gets to me.

As if he knows all my little tells, the smallest of things that make me tick that no one else notices, and my weaknesses that he effortlessly uses against me. Like I’m nothing but a plaything.

I just had to keep my mouth shut and not give him the time of the day for the rest of my stay here. And I was actually doing just fine.

Even secretly relishing as he hovered close by. Demanding my attention with his laser-sharp intensity. It took everything inside me not to burn and claw at my skin. Every instinct screamed at me to chance a small glance.

But then I recalled his parting words from last night.

He had basically called me a slut for going—no, attempting to go—on a few measly failed dates. The ones he made sure to purposely sabotage. The man wasn’t even apologetic about it. Worse, he was proud.

What did you expect, Rosalie?

His sole purpose is to upend my life.

Besides, did he really think I was going to turn into a nun until he stops his manwhore ways and becomes devoted to me? Our marriage will never be a traditional one with meaningful vows. Till death do us part will be till one of us kills.

After all, it is sealed in hatred and deceit.

Forged in anger and mistrust.

That’s how it shall remain for eternity.

No matter how much he conceitedly claims that he and I are equals in this twisted arrangement, it is anything but. The god-awful truth is he’s playing a game where I’m not even privy to the rules.

His cruel acts today have only cemented my desire to lose my virginity. To hell if it hurts or if it’s not romantic. No way I’m saving myself for him, serving myself on a silver platter. Considering the bodyguard whom he has watching my every move, it’s becoming a very real possibility. Unless I do something about it.

After his possessive display in the kitchen, it’s obvious he believes he will claim me on our wedding night. And despises the thought of anyone coming close and stealing it. His possessiveness over me isn’t born from lust or protectiveness, but his need to control and own me.

Every inch of me.

One day, I’ll be the one to shatter his dreams. In a way he’ll never see coming.

Tonight is my only chance and I have to play my cards right.

Earlier I was satisfied with it being any masked man in the party, but now it has to be someone that’ll make Nova hurt and enrage him. A man who is his competition. One he trusts implicitly.

Someone like… Malcolm.

It helps that he’s attractive in a silent, broody type of way and probably knows what he’s doing in bed. Unlike our awkward meeting on the first day, he’s been my ally since I’ve been here and more welcoming than my own fiancé.

Satisfied with my plan, a smile curves my lips.

The clicking sound snaps me out of my daydreams.

Steam filters into the room, announcing Nova’s entrance. Since I didn’t see him carry any clothes with him inside, I know he must be only in his towel. I don’t trust my traitorous body not to react to his half-naked one. It seems to breathe a life of its own.

“Oh, you’re still here, Rose,” he mocks.

I don’t reply, averting my eyes stubbornly.

“Back to the silent treatment, are we?”

Maybe it’ll get me out of going with him if I keep him pissed enough to leave me handcuffed. I can’t believe his audacity of doing it in the first place. Or that he casually keeps it in his bedside drawer. My nose wrinkles at the thought of how many girls he’s used them on.

Is it possible to get cooties from sex toys?

“Or is this your way of asking me to dress you?”

“Uncuff me.” My tone is uninterested. Meanwhile, my wrist aches from pulling at it too hard. Fuck if I’m going to tell him, though.

“Look at me when you’re talking to me.”

God, he’s worse than my father while having a conversation. Two-way street, eyes on me blah blah blah… I refuse to obey him and hear him cross the room to his closet in the corner. My relief is short-lived because he reenters and stops in front of me.

From my peripheral, I see him holding something lacy and I realize he went to pick out a dress for me. Is he seriously going to storm into every aspect of my life? Privacy may as well not be a concept he’s familiar with.

Turning to him, I try to snatch it from his hand with my free one but he steps back out of reach. My cuffed wrist stings when I stretch it to its limits, which isn’t much. The asshole sees me wince but doesn’t make any move to fix my misery.

He is a psychopath.

Refusing to talk is a mistake because my entire being focuses on his sculpted physique. Especially the large bulge hidden underneath the towel, which hangs really, really low. Dangerously so. The knot seconds away from coming undone.

My stomach feels tight with a foreign feeling.

Nova’s body is built to sin.

To ensnare us innocent victims into his lair, forgetting the devil he is.

Water droplets drip from his wet hair, sliding down the middle of his ripped eight-pack abs that look carved from stone. Each cut and shifting mouthwateringly with every calm breath he takes. Light smattering of hair covers his pecs, highlighting his masculinity. I admire every little detail helplessly. His defined biceps, the veins running down his arms, and long fingers with short clean nails.

He may give the illusion of being laid-back, but he’s meticulous and attentive to details.

Again, an insane sensation crawls over my bones.

Dancing to its own tune.

A dizzy wave of desire flaring to the surface and engulfing my body in a spell. The harder I try to suppress this unwelcome attraction, the hotter it burns.

I jerk when he clears his throat knowingly. A vexatious smirk curving across his gorgeous face, watching me with glee and attentiveness. After glancing briefly at the dress, I peer up at him.

“Don’t you think the dress is a little risqué for you, Nova?” I can’t help but taunt with a sweet smile. “Are you planning to come out of the closet at the ceremony?”

His eyes flash in warning. Before he flings the dress toward my chest, barely missing from smacking me in the face. “Wear this.”

I swear he acts obnoxiously on purpose to annoy me. Is this how my life is going to be once we inevitably live together?

“Nova?”

“What, Rose?”

“Did you like to play with dolls as a kid?”

“No.”

My voice falters when he shifts closer, then bends forward to quickly unlock the torture device. A rich and woodsy scent that’s uniquely Nova wraps around in the small space between our bodies, distracting me.

Instead of letting my wrist go, he gently massages the inner side where the cuff bit into my skin, now slightly pink.

Almost absentmindedly.

At least, that’s what I choose to believe.

It’s probably an ingrained habit from fucking countless girls while cuffing them to his headboard. I don’t even touch the fact that I’m not scared he’s kinky in bed.

Worse, I’m intrigued.

I try to tug my hand free but he grips it steady, not letting go. Giving me a stern glare, he continues caressing softly until he’s satisfied, leaving tingling sensations in its wake.

“You sure?” I muse, replaceing my voice. “Because the way you keep manhandling, ordering, and picking my clothes screams so. I bet you loved the Barbie movie too. Tell me, did you wish you had a Ken of your own, chasing you around?”

“Irritating and insulting me won’t get you out of coming with me.”

I feign disappointment, slumping my shoulders exaggeratingly. At my deflated expression, he smirks. A split second later, it’s gone when I quickly grab his free wrist and handcuff it to the headboard. His arm snakes out to catch me when I jump from the bed, but I’m faster.

He should’ve been more careful about leaving the handcuff and its key beside me.

“Cuffing and locking you in here definitely will, though.”

“You little shit.”

“Element of surprise, Nova,” I tease, flicking my hair behind my shoulder. Juggling the key in my hand like he did before, I tsk, “Why do you keep forgetting?”

“Get. Back. Here.”

“Seriously, for an undefeated boxer, you have slow reflexes.” If he were a cartoon, smoke would be blowing out of his ears right about now. “Also, being such a smart man and an heir to a billion-dollar legacy, I don’t understand how you keep underestimating me. Should I warn my future father-in-law his son is more likely to run his multinational company into the ground?”

“You’re going to be so sorry when I get my hands on you, little hellion,” he utters like it’s a foregone conclusion.

“If you get your hands on me.”

Walking toward the other bedside drawer, I grab his phone. Every muscle in his body bulges and flexes in palpable tension as he silently glares at me, promising wicked retribution. I also collect the other necessary items, like my dress, makeup, and purse before fleeing the room.

Stopping at the threshold, I turn one last time. “Oh, and don’t bother screaming. The bedrooms are soundproof, in case you forgot.”

His heated gaze incinerates my skin in a single glance. Tilting his head, he mouths, “Run.”

I blow him a kiss and lock the door behind me.

Using the spare bathroom in the hall, which I’ve been utilizing during my stay, I quickly dress for today. The formal fitted black dress with a turtleneck cinches around my curves. I leave my hair hanging down my back, curling at the ends to add bounciness.

In the living room, I run into Malcolm, who’s on his way out. The expensive three-piece navy blue suit hugs his built frame, making him appear older like a refined gentleman. Something in the way he carries himself screams royalty and old money.

Despite hanging out a couple of times, he hasn’t shared any personal details about himself while trying to investigate mine. The man is as closed off as a brick wall.

“You clean up well, Malcolm.”

His impassive gaze gives me a once-over. “So do you, trouble.”

That damn nickname. “Can I catch a ride with you?”

“Where’s your fiancé?”

“He already left.”

“Without you?” Disbelief laces his tone.

Both of us remembering the morning’s shenanigans. Nova had looked seconds away from punching him in the face. Over me. A girl he treats like a pesky little bug.

Even saying it in my head sounds insane.

“Apparently, I was taking too long to get ready.”

Regarding me closely, he observes me for any lies. I give him no reaction. Meanwhile, I can’t get a read on his face. Like I said, the man is a damn brick wall. Finally, he nods and strides toward the front door.

“Hurry.”

I glance behind me once, thinking of my trapped fiancé, and can’t help but grin evilly. Of course, I’m going to the ceremony. The best place to hide is the one they’ll never think to search. In this scenario, it’s his campus.

Too bad, he probably won’t even make it.