8. Game On

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I felt the morning sunshine on my face as I rolled over in the blankets, the soreness in my limbs from last night's electrocution essentially diminished. I slowly raised my still heavy lids to notice the clock on the nightstand beside my bed. It read 8:28 a.m.

Quicker than I ever had before, I shot out of bed and ran to the bathroom. I had thirty minutes to get my ass ready or shit would hit the fan. I showered my body quickly, washing my hair as fast as I could before brushing my teeth. I toweled myself off and braided my wet hair over my shoulder, not having nearly enough time to dry and style it. I threw on some quick mascara and eyeliner and raced to the closet to put on the first thing I touched. It happened to be a frilly light pink sundress. I immediately regretted the choice, but I would have to gripe about that later. After changing into a matching pink bra and thong, I slipped on a pair of nude flats and ran out the door, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Looked like I wouldn't be needing coffee this morning.

I stopped at the spiral staircase and attempted to regain my composure before slowly and gracefully descending the stairs. I noticed the two guards standing outside the house beside the door as I came into the foyer. They wore dark sunglasses and the same military get-up as the other guards I had seen before. No sneaking out the front door anymore.

As I entered the dining room, the grandfather clock I had not noticed in the foyer chimed, almost practically announcing my entrance. I found Darren sitting at the head of the table as he had yesterday, dressed in another impeccable three-piece suit. His light blue dress shirt brought out the color of his eyes perfectly; the gold and blue tie and matching vest was a nice complement to his hair and skin tone.

What the fuck? Why did I care? Sure, he was beautiful, but I still fucking hated him.

"Morning, princess. Sleep well?" he asked me, his eyes taking me in and making me extremely uncomfortable already.

I immediately scowled at that.

Princess? Bitch, please.

I sauntered over to my assigned seat and sat down.

"I slept fine, thank you," I replied bitterly. But my mood improved a fraction as I noticed a small cut on his lip from where my elbow made contact last night. Fucking good.

"Good. Then you should have no trouble explaining to me why the fuck your hair is still wet," he practically growled.

I felt my stomach backflip and land in a puddled mess, but I wouldn't let it show.

I shrugged. "I accidentally overslept. I must have been that comfortable."

Fuck him. If he was going to pull me, then I was going to push him right back.

Slowly, like that of a predator, Darren rose from his chair and leaned over the table toward me. His eyes blazed with an intensity that I didn't want to challenge, but I knew I couldn't back down. I felt my body tense as he stared me down.

"Do you think this is a game, Jaden?" he asked me seriously.

What an excellent question ...

I leaned back in my chair, relaxed as fuck, as I answered his dumb-ass question.

"Of course, this is a game," I shot back. "It's always been a game, and it always will be a game until someone finally breaks. And I don't plan on losing."

He lunged forward, but I was already out of my seat. By the time he walked around my chair, which I had deliberately left in front of him, I was already on the other side of the table.

"Breaking so many rules already ..." He shook his head at me, the promise of punishment in his eyes.

"Yeah, because you're such a fair player as it is," I retorted, gripping the edge of the table. This was going to turn ugly real quick.

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