Page 180 of Indulge
“I’m in,” Rowan says without hesitation.
I nod. “Time to play.”
Conan’s smirk widens as he leads us through the crowd to the back hallway.
“Once you’re inside, the games begin,” he says. “You know the rules by now. Life or death.”
I scrub a hand over my face. “You cannot be serious.”
He holds out his palm. “Weapons, please.”
I blink. “Come on, man.”
“She’s the game master, I’m just the messenger.” Conan says.
Rowan chuckles, handing over his blade and gun. “She got to you too.”
“I have been manipulated by all of you,” Conan mutters.
I hand mine over, grumbling. “This is insane.”
He just pats my shoulder and opens the final door. “Good luck.”
The door shuts behind us with a heavy click, the lock sliding into place.
Pink petals scatter across the floor like we’ve stepped into one of Bella’s fever dreams.
To the left—Door One. A pink heart painted over it, the number scrawled inside.
I open it. No Bella. Just a dimly lit room filled with flowers and soft light. A table sits in the middle—two glasses of whiskey, one black box, and a letter.
I pick it up and clear my throat, reading it out loud.
Welcome to the first official Decadence Proposal. Hosted by yours truly, Bella King.
Now, you can imagine my surprise when I stumbled across your little plans. Or “proposal,” as you called it. Very, very naughty boys.
Luckily for you both, Lily explained the real premise. Hence why I didn’t stab you in your sleep.
But it did give me an idea.
My heart belongs to both of you. Yet the problem remains—who do I marry?
We have two days to decide. And since you both clearly enjoy your games, I thought I’d turn that against you.
Taking inspiration from your original plans, I’ve created a competition. The only fair way to find a husband.
Conan (bless him) has given you both an envelope. Inside, you’ll find the contracts. Inspired again, by the old Decadence rules.
Not only do they bind you both to me for life, they also outline the terms. Reggie, I’m looking at you.
I’m in control here. If you can’t handle that, you lose. Sorry. I need my moment.
Once you sign on the dotted line, come find me in Room Two.
The whiskey’s for courage.
The ring’s for the winner.
