Page 38 of Heartless Game

I wasn’t marrying anyone. He knew that. There was only one woman I wanted, and even though she was currently locked away safely in my house, I’d promised myself it was only temporary.

Abe sighed. “Believe this, son. I will do everything and anything, no matter how extreme, to make sure you take your place in this family. You don’t want to push me.”

“Oh, I know,” I said bitterly. “You’ve taught me how little you care about who you hurt to get what you want.”

My father chuckled. “One day, you’ll understand why. I’ll be seeing you for dinner soon, son.”

I hung up without replying.

Damn it.

Pulling into the sex shop, I parked my car, turned it off, and knocked my head against the wheel. The pain helped mitigate some of the frustration.

No, I might not have control in my life outside Reina.

But here, I was king. And I’d make sure to keep it that way.

Starting with Tovah.

16

Tovah

Ihad failed to consider one important fact: I had no clean underwear. There was no way I was wearing my pink lace panties from yesterday; just the idea made me cringe. And I wasn’t going to class sans unmentionables, either. Or wearing a pair of Isaac’s boxer-briefs. Ugh.

I was about to collapse back on the bed in frustration, when a thought came to me, filling me with glee. Isaac might have given me rules, and I might have to play by them for now, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t find ways to get him back. I needed to show him I wasn’t a doormat he could walk all over, and I knew just the way to do it.

Grabbing my bright pink lace panties off the ground, I spotted his laundry hamper and carried it downstairs, searching until I found the absolutely ginormous, pristine laundry room.

“Rich people,” I muttered in annoyance.

I didn’t even have laundry in my building; I had to lug my dirty clothes all the way to the nearest laundromat. The huge difference between our lives had never been more clear. Isaac and I were polar opposites. My goal in life was to speak truth to power, he hid the truth so he could maintain his power and control. I’d spent my whole life poor, he was so wealthy he’d never known a day of struggle in his life. I only had my mother as my family and hadn’t even gotten to be around her for my teenage years, he had a huge family he could rely on—even if his father was an evil asshole. I tried to stick to the background in order to do my job without too much attention, he lived in the spotlight—and loved it. And I dressed like a pop punk princess—multicolored, ever-changing hair, torn jeans, nose stud and attitude—whereas Isaac looked completely preppy and straightlaced…until you saw all the tattoos he was hiding.

And there were a lot of them. There was a whole sleeve on his left arm, although I hadn’t gotten the chance to really study them. All I’d seen was a man with a gun for a face…horrifyingly, the mysterious violence drawn on his skin only made Isaac hotter.

Anyway, we were polar opposites. Who wouldnotattract, even if I had to fight myself every single day until I got free of here and of him.

Opening the washer, I dumped his clothes inside. They were mostly faded jeans, white t-shirts and button downs. Then, with more than a bit of savage, vengeful glee, I tossed my pink underwear on top, threw in some detergent, closed the lid and hit start.

“Millennial pink one, Isaac Silver, zero,” I said with satisfaction.

That done, I turned to my next task.

Isaac said he’d locked his office door, but he obviously didn’t know that I had learned how to pick a lock at a young age. I didn’thavemy lock picking tools with me, or even a bobby pin, but I was sure there was something in his house that would be a good substitute. Heading into the kitchen, I went through the drawers, looking for a thin, pointing object, and settled on two metal skewers he must use for grilling kabobs. Or his housekeeper did; I still didn’t believe that Isaac was self-sufficient enough to cook for himself.

I wandered the house, testing each locked door. I didn’t know how much time I had until Isaac got back from practice, so I listened carefully for him as I used my makeshift lock picks to open all the doors. Bedrooms, a gaming room, a workout room—I wasn’t sure why he’d locked them all, but I didn’t care about the rest. Finally, I found his office. It was modern—white walls, white, L-shaped desk with two monitors. The bookshelves were filled with foreign language and linguistics books and novels in their original languages. It made sense: I’d learned that Isaac was a linguistics major, with minors in French, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, Hindi, Urdu…the man was a polyglot, and I assumed it had to do with the work he was planning on doing for his father down the line. It did force me to respect him; he was by no means a dumb jock.

There was nothing on the walls, except an MVP plaque for the Kings and a photo of him, Jack, Judah, and Levi, arms slung around each other. The Core Four, ruling over Reina without a care in the world. They looked casual and happy, Isaac’s dimples out on full display.

An annoying part of me wished he’d direct those dimples at me.

But I knew it would never happen, nor did I really want it to. He was my enemy, and chai lattes aside, I needed to remember that before I did something stupid. Like forget my mission and act like a lovesick idiot.

Turning back to my task, I started carefully opening drawers in his desk, only to be stymied by how empty they were. No paperwork, no bookkeeping, nothing. On some level, I’d known it was stupid to expect that he’d have papers with obvious ties to his father’s business, but I certainly had hoped.

The bottom drawer was locked with a code.

Jackpot.

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