The Games A Private Novel Novels & Stories

It’s real. Slowly, Dominique Gray turns his head toward my direction, like he can sense my presence already with the way I kept glaring at him from where I’m standing, and for a long second, our eyes lock, both of us staring at each other. And for the first time, since I knew this man existed, I could simply read the look on his face and the fiery look in his eyes. He’s started a game, a very dangerous game, and he has no intention of losing.

I wonder what game he’s playing. “Yes.” “Hmm.” His gaze remains fixed on me, that infuriating smile still in place. The weight of his attention makes my knees weak, and I excuse myself before I can embarrass myself further. I rush to my room and slump against my door, heart pounding and mind racing with the same question from earlier: What the hell was that?

They were bound by a secret past that should never come to light. The most dangerous game had just begun.

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Driblets of water trickled down Eve's body as she bent her head over the steamy shower. The water made her feel clean, and it made her think nasty things. Alone with a man in his house, she thought. That had been a success. What other games could she play on him? Maybe a game of him never missing a shower with her. Maybe one that would hold him glued to her. Eve shook her head, unsure of what she was doing.

, she whispers, as if every word is a dangerous secret. “Games? I once heard them talking about going to play somewhere... but they weren't clear. I thought it was card games, I don't know”, I whisper back. “It's sex. There's everything you can imagine from explicit games to all kinds of tastes. You can only enter if you're invited, and you sign a liability contract and Didi will try to get me in under a false name. Would you like one?” I shake my head in disapproval. “I don't know if that's my thing.”

Finally, I give up on my books definitely, going into the gaming room after Natalina had prepared dinner and left with instructions on how to heat up the food she prepared for us and a big smooch on my cheek. I feel like a teen again and I love it. The gaming room is amazing but I am terrible at the kind of games he has stocked his shelves with. After giving up on the third FPS game, I go through the huge collection of games on the shelves next to the door and scrunch my nose because I’m not finding anything. Stupid men with their guns and swords. Seeing a few horror games, I take two of them out to look at them closer, asking me if I should give it a go and sleep even worse.

“Neither was the game. And yet here we are.” Mia and Ryan entered, looking equally shaken. Ryan tossed a book onto Anna’s desk. “Found this in the restricted section of the library.” Anna picked it up, reading the title. The Reflection Game: A Curse Through Time. Mia crossed her arms. “It says the game doesn’t end until all the lost pieces of the players are reclaimed.” Anna swallowed hard. “Which means…” Ryan nodded grimly. “We’re not free yet.” Silence filled the room. Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So what now?”

He asked and the men responded with a yes. "Good, let's play a game with him," Santiago took a gun and pointed it at Mathew, "It's nothing personal Police investigator Mathew Valenzuela, you were just caught in the web of two mafias, don't hold a grudge against me, okay?" He shot him in the forehead after saying those words. "You know what to do with his body," Santiago said and left the room, he took his kerchief and cleaned the blood on his hand, went to the spare room and took a new set of clothes and wore them before heading out.

Edrin I have told this story many times. I have told it to firelight and stone. To rivers that never answer and to skies that pretend they don’t hear my prayers. I have told it to myself until the words wore grooves into my bones. No one ever listens the way they think they do. They listen for triumph. There is none. The Game does not begin with spectacle. That is the first lie people tell themselves. It begins with a quiet thought. With an invitation folded too neatly. With a certainty that whatever you are walking toward cannot be worse than what you are leaving behind.