Hateful Games: (An arranged marriage billionaire romance) (Arranged Games Book 2)
Chapter 42

Nova is in a dark mood, despite the easy smile he wears for his mother.

Ever since he returned with his father a few minutes ago, he’s been silent and tense. It’s in the rigid set to his square jaw, shadowed with evening stubble. Danish, his father, has poured himself a scotch from the bar in the corner and is quietly sipping. Every now and then, he glances at me and makes small talk.

With each question, Nova’s gaze darkens a little more as he subtly glares at his dad.

Does he not want me to get along with his father?

They looked friendly when we arrived. What could they have said to each other that they’re now at each other’s throats? My curiosity is piqued.

If Teresa senses the animosity, she doesn’t comment on it. Her full attention—surprisingly not annoying—is all on me. Just as Nova mentioned. Teresa’s sweet pampering and warmth is reminding me of my mother, who I’ve exchanged a few texts with here and there.

“You can sit with Nova, sweetie,” suggests Teresa as we enter the kitchen. “The dining table is already set. I can bring the rest.”

“I don’t mind, Aunty,” I reply, smiling. “I’m happy to help and you’re way better company than him.”

It’s true. Teresa’s lightheartedness and delightful nature hasn’t made me feel as though I’m in a stranger’s house. As soon as she brought me in, she gave me a tour of the gigantic place, regaling me with funny stories of Nova. Indeed, he was a very clumsy boy.

She says he was a menace, always raising a ruckus around the house.

There was no mention of the alleged kidnapping. Although, there was a moment when the light disappeared from her eyes, replaced by sadness.

“One of these days, I’m going to make you call me Mom,” she promises with a wink. I see where Nova gets his mischievousness from. “I also meant it that I’ll join you with volunteering at the animal shelter once you return from your honeymoon. My therapist says any kind of exercise is good for me.”

Nova’s extreme concern for his mother finally clicks into place.

Teresa was very open about her painful journey of going through severe depression both as a young teen as well as after failing to get pregnant a second time. It took a toll on her physical health because she hardly ate or slept.

It hurts my heart to see a wonderful woman like her go through such a hard phase. Even for Nova, who must have witnessed it too.

“I would absolutely love that,” I reply. “I’ll also take you up on those cooking sessions.”

After today’s fiasco, I’m determined to show Nova I’m capable of cooking.

“We’re glad to have you in our family, Rosalie,” Teresa warmly professes, giving my cheek a pat. “Danish is a man of few words but so is he.”

“Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

“Come on, don’t want the dinner to get cold.”

Carrying the box of hot chapatis, I follow Teresa to the dining room. Danish sits at the head of the table while Nova sits on his right. I almost lose my balance when I see him casually reading my Kindle. Out there in the open. Didn’t believe he actually meant it.

God! I want to die on the spot.

The last book I was reading was straight-up smut with minimal plot. And a why choose, no less. At this rate, he’ll think I have an insatiable appetite for sex.

He probably loves it.

Maybe I should download a couple of thrillers in there.

Both men glance up as we approach. Nova is a carbon copy of his broody father with his mother’s eyes. Smirking, he turns my Kindle off and puts it aside.

As soon as I’m close, Nova takes the crockery from me and places it on the table.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He slides my chair out so I can sit. Instead of lifting his arm, he stretches it across the back of my chair. A second later, he begins to play with my hair. The little and intimate gesture makes me feel shy and girlish.

Having never had a boyfriend, all of this is a first for me.

How ironic that he’s to blame for my lack of dating life yet I’m still blushing and fighting the urge to not lean into his touch.

“I hope you like your food a bit spicy, Rosalie. I didn’t know your favorite dish so I cooked a few options.”

The table is laid with paneer and kebab starters. Dal tadka and Manchurian. Both with gravy as well as dry. Served with chapatis and rice. Everything is making my mouth water, especially knowing it’s homemade.

“It all looks delicious,” I answer. “I can’t wait to dig in.”

“I’m glad. Next time, you can tell me in advance and I’ll make that.”

On cue, Nova starts to serve me a little of everything.

“I can do it,” I whisper to him.

“We’re not living in the old ages that I can’t serve you, Rose,” he huskily admonishes. “Relax and enjoy.”

From the corner of my eye, I see his parents share a glance and smile.

“How are you liking your new home, Rosalie?” Danish asks, sipping his scotch. While Nova’s mother has a untouched glass of red wine placed in front of her.

Nova’s side is strangely empty. So is mine, which is fine because I never really liked alcohol. Certainly not with food.

I don’t notice I’m tapping my foot nervously until Nova rests his wide palm on my upper thigh and squeezes discreetly. My heart climbs up to my throat when he leaves it there while continuing to fill his plate with the other.

“The house is beautiful,” I answer him politely. Tonight, I’m seeing my father-in-law in a new light. He’s almost friendly, making genuine conversation to get to know me, and sweet in a fatherly way. “Nova mentioned you both bought it for us. Thank you.”

“Are you liking your library, Rosalie?” asks Teresa with a twinkle in her eye, and points to her son. “Nova was adamant to have one and renovated the room downstairs. Said you’re an avid reader.”

That stuns me.

He specially made a library for me.

Until now I thought it came built with the house. I gape at Nova and he gives me an impassive look before facing his mother.

“You’re making it sound like a big deal, Ma,” he brushes off flatly, lifting his hand away from my thigh. “Everyone has a library at home these days.”

Completely untrue.

“It was very thoughtful of you, Nova,” counters Teresa, shaking her head.

“The library is my favorite part of the house,” I confess. “I always wanted one.”

“What else did you like growing up, kid?” curiously asks Danish, digging into his food. “I heard you won the state level swimming championship in school.”

How the hell does he know that? “Yes, I did.”

“Your parents must be proud.”

“Yeah, they were,” I lie, avoiding Nova’s assessing gaze.

It began as a hobby to avoid staying alone at home and losing my mind. My swimming coach saw something in me and pushed me to try out in competitions. Since I was competitive by nature and enjoyed the sport, I decided to go all in.

“Why didn’t you go to nationals?” The question comes from Teresa.

“My father didn’t allow it. Said it interfered with my studies.” And the fact I was already roped into being engaged to Nova, which disrupted my life so drastically that I lost all interest. I had locked myself in my room for days. It was Bianca who got me out of the dark void.

“Your father is stupid,” insults Danish in an angry tone. “I hope you know we’ll never raise objections if you ever want to pursue anything in your life, no matter what. You’re still young. I know the wedding came in the way but if you wish to continue with your studies, don’t hesitate.”

I stare at my father-in-law, speechless and blinking back tears.

Everything begins to feel overwhelming.

Nova’s parents have shown me more love and respect in the last hour than my own have in all of the years.

“I appreciate it, Mr. D’Cruz.” My voice is thick with emotions. Unable to get my bearings, I wait a minute before excusing myself, “Can I use the restroom, Aunty?”

“Of course, beta.”

Standing up, I rush out of the room just as the first tear falls. It’s like I’m missing and grieving the loss of something that I never had. From the earlier tour, I replace the bathroom easily and lock it.

Taking deep breaths, I calm myself down and clear the tears away.

I jump when there’s a knock.

Collecting myself, I open it, expecting to see Nova. However, it’s Teresa with a knowing look in her soulful eyes. The fat and ugly tears return and I break down.

“Oh, honey!” she whispers, stepping inside and pulling me into her arms. “Shh, let it all out.”

I sob, unable to understand where all the emotions are coming from.

Have I held them in all this time? Was I this broken and I didn’t know?

The family I’ve been conditioned and taught to hate is accepting me with open arms. Nothing is making sense. The roots my world is built on is crumbling.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m cr-rying,”

“It’s normal, love. Your whole life has been uprooted and it’s always hard. Doesn’t matter if it’s a love or arranged marriage, it just is,” she consoles. “But you’re not alone. You have all of us by your side.”

Leaning back, I brush my cheeks. Tugging me to the marble sink, Teresa dabs my face with tissue.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah!” I give a tentative smile. “Thank you.”

“Stop thanking us, Rosalie,” she scolds teasingly. “You’ve said it so many times, I’ve lost count. You’re family now. None of that.”

I laugh. “Okay!”

“Nova and you will stay here tonight.”

“We can’t impose.”

“It wasn’t a request. You can go back tomorrow after breakfast.” Mischief flickering across her beautiful face, she bribes me by saying, “I’ll show you Nova’s embarrassing baby pictures that I told him I got rid of.”

Yeah, Nova is definitely her son.