The Game Of Quadruplet Mates
(Bk 2) Chapter 3

Miss A looks between the two of us, her sharp eyes assessing us closely before nodding to herself, as if sensing no danger. "Well, I'll leave you two to it." "Wait," I turned to face her. And surprisingly she does wait. "Yeah?"

I didn't know why I stopped her. Maybe I didn't trust myself. Maybe I didn't wanna be left alone with him.

She looks at him again and her frown deepens. "Want me to deal with this guy?"

I replace myself shaking my head, the sight of my ever present shadow of a guard standing tall a few feet away relaxes me. "No, it's okay."

Her eyes pierced through me before a kind smile pulled at her ruby red lips. "I'll replace you later. That way I can show you all the good options."

The way she looked at 'O' made me think he wasn't one of those good options.

And I can't help but agree.

With a wave she was gone, leaving me to face the most devilish smirk I've ever seen.

He really is handsome. The kind of handsome that was just too irresistible and with his confidence, there was no question about what he was. He made it easy to read him. And everyone wanted that.

Wanted him.

I picked at my dress to try and break eye contact. "I didn't know you were coming this year."

He leans against a tree, arms crossed. Like always, he is a rebel, wearing cream instead of white. The darkest cream- nearly sand colored just to be extra sure he wasn't following the rules. "You don't really pay attention much. Especially not with me." "You're bad news." I told him honestly, walking towards a table filled with water in fancy glass bottles that sparkled and shined, promising that it came from the alps or somewhere or another. "You've always been bad news."

He follows right behind me, grinning still. Everything and everyone to him was a game. Including me. "And you're such a good girl. Always the good girl. Isn't that right, Miss X?"

As much as I try to keep my cool, I just couldn't shake off how he said my name, my new name. It was teasing and pushing. Like he was daring me to answer, making a shiver run down my spine.

And I hate how my stomach summersaulted a little bit because, for all his flaws, he was the most desirable man back at home. And he is handsome. Sinfully so.

He just came with complications.

A lot of it.

For as long as I can remember, he's always picked on me. He picked on everyone really but nothing ever happened to him. He was exempted from everything... even punishment.

He's known for that.

Pushing boundaries.

Breaking rules.

And having no consequences.

I guess that's what being born into a high position gets.

Picking one of the glass water bottles on the table, I tried not to look at him, focusing my attention on the long row of tables full of hundreds upon hundreds of food options all laid out perfectly, looking delicious and delectable. It was all spread out in towers and

big platters, from fruits to pastries to cold cuts of meat, sandwiches of every size and cheeses of every funky smell. I swear I saw a whole king crab and lobsters and oysters at the very end, dunked in what looked to be a tray of ice.

For the lack of a better word, I was impressed and deeply amazed.

Though it's not allowed, some whispers about the Games do happen at home and paradise is what's always mentioned.

I didn't think it would be true.

And real.

I felt like I had walked into the most beautiful place in the world.

"What do you want from me?" I asked when he didn't speak again.

His answer was simple, bright eyes boring into me. "Fun."

But simple isn't exactly what he was.

He's bigger than that.

"I want to have fun." He continues, taking the bottle of water from me and opening the cap with ease. "Shouldn't you be having fun too?"

I watched him take a drink of my water, my eyes on his neck, before he handed it back to me. "Find it somewhere else, Mister O."

He notices my mocking tone but smirks anyway, intrigued, pressing the bottle in my hands. "Is that so?"

"You have an entire week here and it's full of girls." I could tell he was challenging me, testing my limits once more. If only he knew that the lines I was afraid to cross were blurring for me already. "You can have anyone you want. Anyone from our pack that's here if you really want to. Your options are endless. I'm.... I'm not-" His eyes narrowed playfully. "Hmmm... you know I can always order you to do it."

I did my best to look taller, puffing my chest out, but he was easily bigger than me and I know I didn't intimidate him. Not even a little bit. "You can't order me. Not here."

"But what would your dear daddy say about that?" He taunted me with a lifted eyebrow.

I stopped.

He knew this would make me stop.

For my dad would tell me to give in to whatever this so called precious boy wants.

No matter the cost.

"Predictable. Predictable." He teased, leaning closer to me. Suddenly, the playfulness leaves his eyes. "You know what I'm here to do. You know what is asked of me. You know... you know."

It wasn't every day that he struggled with words.

He was always smooth and quick thinking.

It is what I liked about him.

"I know." I whispered, because everyone back at home knew what he was here for.

He nods, the rare seriousness on his handsome features. "So let me have this."

It was so easy to agree, to just accept, but it was my turn to tease him. "We'll see."

His lips broke into another smile. "There she is."

And as foolish as it was for me, I wondered quietly what it would be like to leave with Mister O.

We were from the same pack. I knew his lifestyle. He knew mine- I think?

It would be so easy.

But then he was this... guy.

Truth be told, he isn't who I expected myself to be with. And I'm sure everyone else at home doesn't expect it either.

We were two very different people.

I needed someone to help my family and he needed something more. Something I'm not sure I can give.

Just as he was about to say something more, his expression was suddenly resigned and dejected, a live band started to play in the middle of the gardens where a gazebo wrapped in colorful roses stood. There were at least twenty people with big instruments dressed and painted as if they were statues. They did not sing, or hum, letting their instruments capture us all.

And with the mansion as their background, it didn't take much to grab everyone's attention.

The crowd of attendees gathered around them, listening to the melodic sounds of their instruments and, like I was in a spell, I walked closer as well, completely enamored. I lose Mister O in the crowd, my eyes on the instruments.

As I listened, my heart thumped erratically from both excitement and emotions for the coming days. I did not know what was going to happen, but how could anything bad happen here?

Happen in paradise?

When the song finishes, an organizer walks onto the gazebo and bows in front of us all. "Welcome attendees, to the grand Assembly."

A chorus of applause comes and I replace myself clapping along as well, a smile on my lips.

"We are happy to have all of you this year, new and old." The organizer smiles, looking genuinely happy to have all of us here. "The Assembly is designed to be a week of replaceing your mates, no matter the title, the name or the distance and using only your emotions to decide."

I hug myself then, wondering how I should let my emotions decide on something that will change my future forever.

As I think of this, something catches my attention from the corner of my eye.

If a storm cloud could be a person, it would be this guy. Despite the white suit he wore, there was something so very dark about him. His features, though bright and charming, were anything but. Standing away from everyone else and clutching a bottle of liquor in his hands, he looked as if he was fighting an internal battle with himself.

And he was losing.

Frankly, he looked miserable.

Like he didn't want to be here.

He was a large man, his shoulders thick and broad with muscles, but he hunched over as if trying to make himself smaller with his hair over his face as he leaned lower. He spoke to no one, looked at no one- not even at the organizer speaking in front, his only attention to the bottle he was holding... that is until he looked up suddenly and his beautiful eyes were on me.

His eyes were something else.

Something indescribable.

But they were so sad.

Almost drowning in sadness.

I wanted to go to him then.

To ask what caused that kind of earth shattering sadness, but before I could even finish my thought process, he was gone.

Like he was just my imagination.

The man that looked like an angel, handsome and perfect, was gone.