The auditorium is filled with countless students and their families milling about, buzzing with hushed conversations and enthusiastic energy. Malcolm left me alone as soon as we arrived while he went to socialize with his batchmates.
I was surprised that his family weren’t here until I saw a sharply dressed older version of him arrive, surrounded by multiple bodyguards, who didn’t bother blending in. Everybody watched them in awe while also giving them a wide berth. The guards’ menacing expressions keeping them at bay.
I didn’t understand the attraction except he was someone highly important until someone whispered the words prince, royalty or something.
Does this mean I was living with a possible heir to a throne or related to someone in royalty? I could understand why Malcolm wants to keep it hush-hush. However, I was too distracted to go into depth. Besides, I can simply ask Miya later.
Meanwhile, Nova is still a no-show.
In the crowd, I see a familiar face.
Miya’s friendly eyes connects with mine when she feels me staring across the room. A wide smile splits across her lips and she runs toward me. However, the couple that turns with her makes my heart rate drop.
Mr. and Mrs. D’Cruz.
Nova’s parents are here. Shit. Of course, they are. It’s their son’s graduation, who at the moment is locked away in his bedroom. Probably hoarse from screaming for help. Although, I can’t imagine him doing that. The handcuff’s key sits heavy in my purse as I contemplate whether or not to run back and free him.
Then I recall the hellish past week I’ve endured due to him.
The shocking news that he had a bodyguard stalking me for two goddamn years, like I’m his prisoner. Worse, like his property he wanted to keep an eye on.
Let him remain trapped.
The man is definitely due for some alone time to rehash his life choices.
“Rosalie! You look gorgeous,” compliments Miya as she wraps me in a hug. I awkwardly pat her back until she lets go and steps back.
“Thank you, Miya. So do you.”
She absolutely does in an elegant light blue maxi dress, gaining attention from left and right with her effervescent personality.
“Rosalie, how good to see you,” says an angelic soft voice. “You look lovely.”
I raise my gaze to meet Nova’s mom, Teresa D’Cruz, taking my breath away with her stunning beauty. The pictures don’t do her justice. Dressed in a traditional Indian sari, made of the finest silk with intricate handcrafted patterns and her flawless makeup, she steals the focus in the large auditorium. Even more because of the intimidating man standing beside her.
Multiple eyes skirt toward our little group, making me painfully aware that they know one of the richest men in India is standing among them.
“Thank you, Mrs. D’Cruz,” I reply, unsure of what to call her since it’s the first time we’re meeting. Neither aunty nor mom seems appropriate or will even sound genuine. How strange that it’s taken me two long years to talk to her. I assumed she hated me and my family like the rest of hers. However, no bad energy or disdain comes from her. So, I compliment, “You look beautiful.”
She smiles tenderly and squeezes my forearm affectionately. Almost making me believe she’s happy to soon have me as her daughter-in-law.
Again, I’m reminded of how complicated my life has become.
I purposely don’t greet Danish, Nova’s father. He’s just as guilty as my father for putting me in this predicament. How the hell he even ended up with such a beautiful wife, who stares at him as though he hung the moon, is beyond me.
I’m fucking perplexed.
Danish, my future father-in-law, regards me briefly while keeping his emotions concealed, and asks, “Where is Nova? He should be with you.”
The cardinal rule of lying: never take your eyes off the person you’re fooling.
“He left early to prepare for his valedictorian speech.” The lie rolls off my tongue smoothly. Something I need to practice around my fiancé.
Oh yeah, Nova is the topper of his class and loved by his professors as well. Or so said Miya on one of her many ramblings. I feel so guilty for ruining such a special day for him. Not.
Nova’s father squints his eyes while his lips twist in displeasure. I wonder if he was in on it with Nova for approving the bodyguard he hired for me. His body language screams he doesn’t trust me. Yet he’s more than eager to tie me to his family. Something doesn’t sit right.
Could there be an ulterior motive? Or he is simply preaching the saying… keep your enemies closer.
“I’m sure he’s around here, Danish,” murmurs Mrs. D’Cruz, diffusing the tension.
The frown lines disappear as Danish relaxes his features, replaced by the suave business tycoon the world glimpses. “Call and let him know we’re waiting.”
“Sure, honey.”
Damn it. I have his phone and I’m not sure if it’s on silent or not. My throat goes dry as I fight the urge to fidget. Discreetly adjusting the strap of my black sequined mini purse, I shift it behind my waist.
Meanwhile, Miya is watching me raptly with suspicion dancing in her eyes.
As Teresa dials his number, any second blowing my cover, I search for an escape without making myself look guilty. Especially with Miya observing me like a hawk.
A buzzing sensation tingles my hip and I breathe a sigh of relief. The noise around us hides the vibrating sound while Teresa frowns as Nova’s call goes to voicemail. Hanging up, she mutters, “He’s not picking up. He never does that.”
Genuine guilt hits me in the chest when a note of worry touches her voice.
“He must not have heard it, Teresa.”
She looks up at her husband, shakes her head, and murmurs, “He always picks up my call, Dan.”
Dialing again with a shaking hand, her face turns ashen when it goes back to voicemail. Even Danish’s shoulders tense. Suddenly, I’m witnessing my plan backfiring and going from funny prank zone to straight panic zone.
“Why is he not picking up, Dan?” Teresa’s voice rises to a high-pitched tone.
“Aunty Teresa, don’t worry,” assures Miya, caressing her arm. “Rosalie and I will go look for him.”
Her face almost pale, she mumbles, “Thank you, beta.”
“Come on, Teresa,” says Danish softly. “He must be practicing his speech as Rosalie mentioned. We’ll take a look around too.”
Miya pulls me aside and as soon as we’re alone outside in the hallway, she utters, “Look, Rosalie, I know for a fact you’re lying and if you know where he is, just say. Okay? I understand you’re pissed about the bodyguard and everything but it’s Aunty Teresa you’re hurting. Remember when I told you Nova was kidnapped, take a guess who was with him that awful day.”
After witnessing Teresa’s reaction, I feel like the worst human being on the planet. And that’s saying something considering who my fiancé is.
Oh my god. Did I unknowingly trigger Nova’s traumatic memories? He was fine when I left him but it’s been more than an hour. Dread settles in the pit of my stomach.
If I don’t fix it, who knows what kind of blunder will occur?
“I handcuffed and locked him in his bedroom before coming here with Malcolm,” I admit, making Miya’s jaw go slack.
“What?”
“He handcuffed me first!”
“Jeez. What the hell is wrong with you two?”
“I didn’t know his parents were coming.”
“Fuck!”
“Did you drive here?” I ask hopefully, and suggest, “Maybe we can quickly run back and bring him here.”
Miya checks her watch and curses. “The ceremony is about to begin any minute now.”
Behind her, through the doorway, I see everyone filing into their seats. I am fully panicking now. There’s no way Nova will make it on time. We’ll have to tell his parents that it was my fault. If Teresa didn’t hate me before, she definitely will now.
“What do we do?” I mutter, chewing my lip nervously. “Maybe Malcolm can help.”
“No!” she says sharply.
I quirk my eyebrow and drawl, “Okayyy.”
“I mean, he’s busy himself. Besides, there’s no way to talk to him with the bodyguards surrounding him.”
“Is he really like a prince or something?”
“He’s cousins to the prince, which probably makes him a duke or something else. I don’t know.”
“But you live in London.”
“I haven’t lived here my whole life,” she retorts and then becomes serious. “I told you to stay under Nova’s radar for today, Rosalie. It’ll be a hundred times harder to sneak into tonight’s party because he’ll be watching you like a hawk.”
“I honestly cannot focus on that right now, Miya. We have other pressing matters.”
“We’ll just to have to tell Uncle Danish.”
“That I have his son hostage? Hell no,” I say in a disgruntled tone.
“Aunty Teresa will send the whole army in search of him if you don’t.”
Sighing, I curse my luck. I know she’s right and we’re running out of time. A headache forms and I rub my forehead before reluctantly agreeing, “Okay, fine. I’ll tell them.”
Miya intertwines our arms as we reenter the auditorium. In the right corner, at the front, I see Danish pacing with a phone to his ear. Teresa is nowhere to be seen, making me insanely worried.
I’m running through all the possible explanations behind my actions with no other choice as we bridge the distance. Danish turns, frowning as we stop before him.
Miya squeezes my hand encouragingly as I clear my throat. “I wanted to tell that Nova—”
My words die on my tongue when I hear a small female laugh from behind. Puzzled, I slowly twist around, only to blink back in utter shock. Even Miya goes ramrod still.
Nova, sharply dressed in an all-black three-piece suit with his hair perfectly styled and highlighting the angular structure of his face, stands with his mom. A small smile graces his mouth as she adjusts the knot of his tie, gazing at him with adoration and pride.
How the fuck did he get here?
Does he practice magic?
He whispers something to her, making her laugh in that same melodic baritone. This tender and loving side of him with no mask takes me aback. My mind imagining he’s doing some sort of sorcery.
“Did you have something to say, Rosalie?” questions Danish from behind.
It draws Nova’s and Teresa’s attention.
“Oh, there you both are,” says Teresa upon seeing us. “First Nova, and then you two got lost. Stop worrying me, kids.”
Nova, whose smug eyes are locked on my face, take in my reaction. He takes his sweet-ass time running it down my body, clad in the dress he chose for me. I was in such a hurry I forgot to switch. I feel naked under his sizzling gaze, burning with the cruel satisfaction of outsmarting me.
He isn’t even ashamed for doing it right in front of his parents.
I bite the inside of my cheek while trying not to lower my gaze. Ever so casually, he crosses the small distance and crowds into my personal space. I quietly gasp when he circles my waist and pulls me flush against his steel-like chest.
Soft lips press against the corner of my mouth in a chaste kiss before running up to my ear and whispering, “Did you think I wouldn’t have a spare key?”
The fucking bastard played me. Any guilt I harbored about bringing up bad memories for him evaporates in a flash.
“Let me go,” I say through gritted teeth.
He pulls back enough to connect our gazes. His eyes peruse to my pursed lips for a fraction of a second, as if he can’t help it, and then stares back at me. Caressing my cheek with the backs of his knuckle, he reminds me in warning, “Don’t forget. To the world, you’re the love of my life, Rose. The forbidden fruit I plucked straight from my enemy’s garden.”
I glance around and replace several pairs of eyes studying us keenly.
Nova tilts my face back to his and commands in a low voice, “Be a good girl and smile.”
I blush. An involuntary reaction.
I blame it on my obsession with books.
Allergic to unnecessary drama, I paint a smile on my face and direct it at Nova. “There. Happy?”
“What would make me happy is bending you over my lap and spanking your ass for wasting my morning and almost making me miss my graduation.”
I open my mouth before slamming it shut, out of smart comebacks. Embarrassed that someone might have heard it, I look around. Only breathing a sigh of relief that Nova’s parents and Miya are out of earshot.
Nova smirks evilly. “Now I would like my phone back, little hellion.”
I hastily pull it out and slap it into his palm, a little too hard. The infuriating man chuckles before guiding me toward the front row where his family sits. I take a seat beside Miya, thinking Nova will finally leave to sit with his classmates.
Instead, he bends to taunt in my ear, “The only dolls I like to play with are girls willing to be my fuck dolls. Say the word and I’ll make you mine, Rose. Except there will be no dress-up because I’ll keep you naked at all times.”
Closing my gaping mouth, he saunters away with a dirty smirk.
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