Hateful Games: (An arranged marriage billionaire romance) (Arranged Games Book 2)
Chapter 83

I’m taking a huge risk.

Being reckless.

But the thought of Nova being alone and grieving the loss of Teresa, I cannot not be with him. I will be the last person he wants to see and he’ll probably yell and kick me out, but that doesn’t stop me from sneaking out through the garage at midnight.

Taking a car is out of the question, lest I want to be caught.

Quietly, I walk out and duck past the two bodyguards before reaching the gate. The night guard is nowhere to be seen. Before he returns from wherever he’s gone, I unlock the small gate and skip into the deserted road.

Waiting for a cab driving past is my only hope.

I don’t know how long I hike on the sidewalk until I finally hail a taxi. Fortunate enough to replace a decent cab driver. The sweet bald and old man smiles and asks for the address. I quickly fire it off and tell him to drive fast. He obliges while I stare out the window.

My heart beating an erratic rhythm.

The sudden and tragic passing of Teresa D’Cruz yesterday morning has taken the country by storm. She wasn’t gossiped about or remembered as much when she was alive compared to now. I don’t even think she had any real friends.

No one knew the demons she battled or the broken heart that pumped inside her.

The woman with the biggest heart, who showered me with nothing but love.

Treated me like a daughter far more deeply than my own mom ever has. My mom, who has no clue of the snake pit I’m stuck in while she’s traveling in some beautiful part of the world.

While I cried as soon as I heard my mother-in-law was gone, my father and uncle celebrated. Their sick happiness at seeing the D’Cruz men’s tragedy. I could hear the echoes of their laughter and glee down the hall to my bedroom where they kept me locked during the day. My phone with them.

Without it, I can’t even call Jasmine to protect me from the hellhole.

I haven’t let my father or uncle pick up on the fact that I haven’t given up my fight. I pretend to be scared, crying for good measure when they’re nearby. While waiting for the moment they let down their guards. Just one opportunity to slip into his office and destroy the evidence he has on Nova’s firm.

My father, as cunning as he may be, is also old fashioned. Instead of keeping a digital blackmailing history or details on his enemies, he keeps a hard copy. Once he’s extorted whatever it is he wants, he burns them in the fireplace in the study. Making the proof of his treachery disappear into ashes.

He’ll do the same once Danish and Nova give in to his demands.

I won’t let it come to that.

As soon as I’ve succeeded in my mission, I’ll go to the police and confess all the abuse I’ve suffered at their hands. I am done hiding and letting fear rule me.

This is my chance to kill two birds with one stone.

Uncle’s smugness of returning will be gone in a cloud of smoke. I’ll finally get my revenge and bury the last of my demons. The scars he inflicted. He will spend the rest of his life behind bars and count the days till his last dying breath.

So will my father.

I can finally be with Nova again after I confess the truth and beg him for forgiveness.

“Miss, we’re here.”

The polite voice of the driver interrupts my train of thought. The house I shared with Nova looms ahead. After asking the driver to wait until I return to go back, which he agrees to, I walk on shaky legs to the gates.

“Mrs. D’Cruz?” calls out the nightshift guard perched in his small office. “Is that you?”

“Yes.” My tone is scratchy and low. “Let me in.”

“But Mr. D’Cruz isn’t here. Hasn’t been in the last three days.”

I stop in my tracks. “Where is he staying?”

“In his apartment in the city.”

Surprise flickers because I didn’t know he had one. “Can you tell me the address?”

“Of course.”

He recites it and I make my way back to the cab driver. We’re back on the road and it takes another two hours before I reach the high-rise complex. The doorman recognizes who I am and quietly lets me pass. His expression sympathetic. The private elevator, leading straight to the penthouse, climbs at the slowest pace, or that’s how it feels.

Every second feeling like a lifetime.

I have no idea what version of Nova I’ll be replaceing. We’re once again standing on the opposite sides. Two parallel lines never meant to collide, unless we want to ruin those around us and ourselves.

Haven’t I already accomplished that?

Will he even believe a word I say now?

The elevator halts and the doors part.

Darkness. Deafening silence. Cold.

I’m hit by three at once as I cross the threshold. The farther I go, the colder the walls become, along with the chill night air coming in from all the windows and doors being left wide open. Sparse furniture decorates the first living room I enter.

Nova isn’t here but his scent wafts in the space and I inhale, instantly feeling home. My lungs finally breathing again. I stride past the open-style dining and kitchen area to a second living room that leads to the balcony. The lights are off with the moonlight streaming in.

In front of the open sliding glass door, stands a disheveled Nova in a black dress shirt and pants. The funeral clothes he wore yesterday as he buried his mother, alongside his father and close relatives. Barefoot and a burning cigarette hanging from his left hand. That’s not what crushes my already broken heart, though.

In his other hand is a half-empty bottle of whiskey.

He’s drinking.

My Nova abhors that stuff yet the evidence is before my eyes. I’m half to blame for reducing him to touching alcohol. He doesn’t even hear me as his hand lifts, ready for another sip, when my brain catapults me into action.

“No,” I yell and cross the room. Wrenching the bottle from his grip, I throw it far away. The loud crunching noise brings his focus to my proximity. Nothing shifts in his dead expression except the glistening shine of dry tears on his eyelashes. Dark circles make home underneath them.

“Baby,” I hoarsely cry out and grab his shoulders, tracing my hands up his neck to his face. Cupping his unshaven jaw, I whisper apologetically, “I’m so sorry… for everything. Your mom—”

He shoves me back as if my touch repulses him.

Just the way I did.

Twice.

“Who let you in?” His tone is as biting and unfeeling as the broken pieces of glass on the floor. “Get out.”

I close the gap once more and beg, “Nova, please.”

“Leave, Rosalie.”

I flinch at him saying my full name. He couldn’t have treated me more like a stranger trespassing on his turf. He’s grieving, I tell myself. His reaction is justified. I’m the enemy. The woman who betrayed his trust worse than any other soul in the world. He gave me his heart and I crushed it.

I deserve it.

He needs me more.

Turning away, he inhales another puff. I know he quit the habit for me. Not once during our marriage has he touched a cigarette. Yet in one night, he’s broken two of his vows to himself.

“I’m so sorry.”

Reaching him, I wrap my arms around his torso from behind. He doesn’t react. No breaking down. Turning around. Or wrapping his own arms around me.

“Leave.”

“No,” I say to his back. Still strong and powerful but carrying the burden of his mom’s passing. I can’t even imagine the tangible hurt and abandonment he must be feeling. I’ve never lost someone close to me in a way that’s forever but the thought is enough to bring me to my knees. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”

“Why? ’Cause my mom is dead? Or because the only woman I loved besides you is dead?”

Loved?

I always thought he’d be breaking us yet it’s me who wrecked and shattered what we could’ve been. Am I too late? The drowning sensation rises.

“I’m sorry,” I recite repeatedly as if it’ll make a difference. Laying my hand in the middle of his back, I slowly confess, “You were right, Nova. I was—am—hiding truths from you that I can’t yet say, but please, trust me. I’m going to make it right. Just give me time, please.”

“Make everything right?” He whips around, crushing my wrists in his grip. The pain doesn’t even register as he yanks me close and growls in my face, “You need time? I’ve already lost it all. You fix what is broken. I’m past the point of broken and damaged. Hell, I’m not even left with pieces to put anything together.”

I study his face, shrouded in darkness, and know I have to give him something before I lose him completely.

“My uncle is alive. My father faked his brother’s death after the incident with me,” I spill, a desperate attempt to make him believe me. “I couldn’t tell you that day because he was watching us and listening through the cameras in my room. I had no choice but to push you away, Nova.”

When he stills as a statue, I hold my breath, wishing and praying he believes me.

His brown eyes remain as cold as ice.

A cruel smile lifts the corners of his mouth.

I die in that moment.

“Really, Rosalie, still manipulating me?” He coldly scoffs, dropping my arms and scrubbing his hand over his jaw. “People don’t return from the dead. Your uncle is nothing but ashes and dust in the wind. I looked him up through an investigator the first time you told me. At least you were smart enough to mix some truths within the lies.”

“I’m not lying, Nova. I ran into my father at the port when I took your mom there and he forced me to go home with him. I told him I wasn’t going to meet his demands and continue feeding information about your family but—” I swallow the palpable fear. “—then he revealed uncle and I… I panicked. They were going to hurt mom and Jasmine if I didn’t do their bidding. You have to believe me. You don’t know my uncle. He’s unhinged and psychotic.” Dejection sinks in my voice. “He and Dad have been keeping me locked up.”

“How come they let you come to me then, huh? Since they’re blackmailing and keeping you locked up. I’m not that drunk to believe such made-up lies.”

I fought the urge to shake him and make him believe me.

“I managed to escape tonight. I can’t bear the thought of you alone and wallowing in sorrow.”

His indifference cracks for a second before it vanishes as his gaze roams over me. “You sure know how to weave a tale, not that I should be surprised. My life, with which you’ve played games, isn’t one of your make-believe stories. There are real consequences. I don’t believe a word coming out of your lying mouth. You Kapoor women are all the same. Only know how to cheat, lie, and break hearts.”

He might as well have stomped all over me. My spirit breaks at his cruel taunts but I don’t let it deter me from pressing against him. My tone is low and pleading as I speak. “I lied, Nova. I love you so much. I’ve never stopped. You were willing to believe me then, don’t turn your back on me now. I beg you. Don’t you see I’m trying to protect you?”

“You had your chance,” he replies in a detached tone, his gaze a bottomless pit of void. “I’m not falling for your tears or your lies. Even if what all you said is true, you still went behind my back and chose your scum father over me. After I told you what sins he’s committed against me, you picked him. I can never forgive you for that.”

“Don’t say that.” I twist my fingers into his shirt, hanging onto him like he is my lifeline. He remains stoic.

“I won’t feel so guilty for tomorrow now,” he says, ignoring my words. A familiar vindictive streak darkens his pupils. In a low tone laced with an edge, he taunts, “You never asked me about the woman my father loved. Were you never curious to know who destroyed my parents’ marriage?”

The temperature drops as tension mounts. I lick my suddenly dry lips, unable to comprehend the look on his face as if he’s about to shatter my world. The foundation of my life.

Is she someone I know?

My brain comes up short, scrambling for a name and how it affects me.

Nova tilts his head and crushes the cigarette under his boot. “I can hear the wheels turning in your head. How about I save you time and let misery be your friend, hmm?”

“Who is she?”

“Lily Kapoor.”

I stagger back, shaking my head. “No.”

“Your mother is my father’s mistress.”

“You’re lying, trying to hurt me like I hurt you.”

“Remember when I said there’s no cutting ties with the past? Lily and my father made sure of that with Jasmine.” He delivers the blow without a care. “She is my half-sister. It’s why you were chosen over her.”

I hastily push the tear that escapes past the burning in my eyes. Hating the way I tremble. It couldn’t possibly be true. “My mom would never cheat.”

“Secrets hurt bad, don’t they?” A taunt and a step forward. “Especially when you never see them coming.” Another step until my back crowds against the wall. “How does it feel knowing your mother sacrificed you to keep her side piece close? The yacht you had so muh fun on, guess who my father bought it for?” His palms cage me in on either side of my head and he leans down to whisper, “Still love me knowing I kept this secret from you for months and had no intention of ever confessing it?”

Searching his face for tells or lies, I replace none.

Devastation makes home in my bones.

I’m about to tell him that nothing could stop me from loving him when his earlier word registers in my frazzled mind. “What did you mean by tomorrow?”

“The world will know your mom’s dirty little secret and that Jasmine is her bastard child. One that is bound to ruin your father’s impeccable reputation he so prides himself on,” he states, no remorse in his voice. “As for his threats, he shouldn’t have waited. I found the drive you put in my desktop. Took me awhile to figure it out, but I did. Your father doesn’t have access anymore. He can’t come after me or my father. I’m sure you’ll let him know once you leave.”

He straightens, about to turn, but I catch his arm. “Don’t do this, Nova. Jasmine doesn’t know, it’ll destroy her. Don’t punish her for my crimes. Please.”

“Go away before I kick you out.”

“If you ever loved me,” I say and he pauses, lifting his unsympathetic stare to mine. “Then give me one day to prove to you I’m not lying about my uncle. One chance, Nova. That’s all I’m begging for.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Rosalie.”

His callous mocking slaps me in the face. I’m unable to move. This is the ruthless and spiteful side of Nova I never witnessed. The cold-blooded man people dare not to cross as they quake in his wrath.

Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of him, feeling his intensity and power.

Leaving me standing, he turns and goes to the kitchen. I hear the sound of him popping open another bottle. I forget the ugly secrets we’ve both kept from each other, used against one other, and remember why I was here in the first place.

Maybe I am pathetic, after all.

Taking any scrapes he’ll give me.

I force myself to follow after him and round the corner to replace him sitting on the kitchen island, drinking straight from the bottle of whiskey. He notices my presence but doesn’t acknowledge me.

However, when I don’t go in the direction of the exit, his body goes rigid.

Reaching his side, I tug the bottle and set it aside.

“One day you said you might do something we won’t be able to come back from,” he says quietly. “This is it. There’s no coming back from this, Rosalie.”

“No,” I gasp. The first sob escaping. “I love yo—”

Grabbing the back of my neck and tilting my chin, he bends to press a harsh kiss on my lips. When he rips his mouth away, his eyes show me the first glimpse of the pain I inflicted and the vicious anger of my betrayal. “You don’t taste like mine anymore. Maybe you never did. Maybe you enchanted me like an enchanted rose.”

“I’m sorry.” I cry harder, my knees giving out as I clutch him. “I’m sorry.”

Abruptly standing, he angrily flings the bottle past me.

I flinch as it crashes into the wall.

Nova’s livid face glaring down at me.

“Get the fuck out, Rosalie,” he shouts. “We’re over.”