The game was far from over yet, but still, she had just taken a huge lead.

How had he missed something so important? Had there been clues? He thought long and hard, replaying all their time together as she crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from him. Yes. There had been clues. Like the way she never really spoke about Nathan and changed the subject whenever he brought up the fact that she was engaged. Or how she always looked discomfited whenever he called Nathan her husband. And the way she never wore her ring. And the fact that she was so readily available to him. Like the way Nathan reacted so coldly toward her at her birthday party and how she didn’t bother to call him after her attack. But the most obvious sign of all was the way she didn’t care that he had been with other women or that he had a membership to the Stallion & Knight club. The glaring signs that shined as bright as a spotlight had all been missed because he was so consumed with what he was telling her, he had his blinders on.

He wracked his brain for more hints, but his nerves were too raw to think rationally. All he could recall was the jealousy she had made him feel; the ache in his chest he felt every time she left, and thinking that she was with another man. He wanted to be angry at her and to hate her for stringing him along and making him think that she was unobtainable, but he couldn’t. How could he when she was playing the game the way he designed it to be played? How could he condemn her for being true to herself?

All these weeks she had been alone; just like him. Every day she had been tortured by everything that this game was doing to her; just like him. Every time they faced off, she had put on her mask; just like him.

And he had fallen right into her trap. Again.

Killer. Fucking. Instincts. This Goddamned woman may be a liar of epic proportions when it came to the game, but she was no cheater. He was the only one in her life and his heart felt as if it would implode at the thought.

He was the only one.

He was hit with the sudden realization that this thing with Elsa wasn't just about the game anymore. It wasn't even about the sex. It was about possessing her; owning her; and making her want only him. He was caught up in his obsession with her like an animal caught in a hunter’s snare. His fixation with her had become increasingly demanding and endless and he was helpless to do anything about it.

Then there was the other thing that kept getting in the way… The thing his subconscious was violently trying to reject. He was falling into a deep abyss of the thing he detested more than anything - love. But what did he know about love? He had never experienced it deeply or long enough to know how to give or receive it properly. He sure as hell never received it from his mother, and the only woman he had loved, Chapter One, turned out to be a serial murderer.

No, it wasn’t love that he was feeling. It was something more potent and devastating than mere love. It was something else – something that didn’t have a name and couldn’t be categorized or labeled. Whatever it was, it was intertwined with the power struggle between them and, Christ, how he craved that struggle; yearned for it; lived for it.

It was a struggle he vowed to win at all costs by winning her heart back, even if it meant the death of his co-conspirator - Mr. Black.

21: Uncertainty

Elsa waited for the fallout as she and Victor walked back to his car. He was seething and the tension between them was unbearable. He wouldn’t look at her, which was probably for the best. Having already seen hurt and anger in Nate’s eyes was more than enough for one evening; she didn’t need to see it from Victor, too.

Just as he revved the engine, his phone rang. A man’s voice on the other end sounded excited. Or upset. She couldn’t tell, but by the dismayed look on Victor’s face, what was being said was important. His jaw creaked from clenching his teeth and his eyes darted to her. More rapid mumbling on the phone made Elsa lean in to try and make out what the voice was saying, but Victor threw the car door open and jumped out. The door no sooner shut when she heard his raised voice. The only words she could hear was a name: Anthony Bruce.

Her stomach did a flip flop. The name brought back bad memories of her time before with Victor and how he had almost mailed his journal notes about her to the serial killer. She watched him as he paced in front of the car’s bright headlights in the freezing weather, the wind blowing his hair into his eyes, and his gestures animated. Abruptly he stopped and stared at her through the windshield, his eyes fixing on her and a look of concern washing over his pale face.

He nodded, mouthed something, and then climbed back into the car.

“What’s the matter?” she dared to ask.

A shake of his head let her know that whatever was wrong was better left unsaid. They drove in silence until they arrived at 2500 East Grace Street.

“Don’t leave,” he stated when she climbed out.

She bent down into the open door, stunned. “You’re not coming in.”

“I can’t. I need to deal with something. I expect you to be here when I get back. If I get back. I may be at work all night.”

“I work tomorrow,” she huffed.

“There are clothes for you in my closet, but I want you here tonight. Anyway,” he glared at her. “It’s not like you have someone to go home to, is it?”

She swallowed loudly and blinked several times as she stared at him.

His eyes narrowed down to slits. “We’ll discuss the current state of our affairs later. Now get inside.”

A shiver ran down Elsa’s spine at the staunch look on his face and the stern tone of his voice. She turned and walked to the door with her tail between her legs. A glance over her shoulder revealed his dark eyes watching her. Only when she stepped inside the house and closed the door did she hear his vehicle drive away. She could only imagine what lay in store for her for having led Victor on for so long.

***

Victor’s mind was racing as was his pulse. His thoughts were still on Elsa and her lie, but he needed to focus. There was an unexpected development at work that needed his full attention. That one phone call and his world around him seemed to be spinning off its axis. First, Elsa’s revelation that her engagement was off and now, this. When it rained shit in his life, it poured.

As he parked his vehicle and rushed into the police headquarters, he mentally patted himself on the back for having insisted on fast-tracking Elsa’s attacker’s case. He had been demanding answers all week and pushing the detectives in charge to find out why the man whose name was Daniel Franco had chosen to attack her. They had tried to convince him that it was random, but his instincts were telling him otherwise. It turned out he was right.

Just as he entered the building, a young officer approached him.

“You think we got him?” his bright eyes scanned Victor’s face for some kind of approval.

The detective’s demeanor halted him cold in his tracks. It was as if he was looking at a younger version of himself. He had been that man once – enthusiastic and optimistic. There was still a fragile flame of hope residing within him back then. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but in reality it had been… How long? Victor quickly did the math in his head.

Ten years.

For ten fucking years Mr. Black had been a force in his life. For a decade he had been ruining people’s lives under the guise of helping them. Wordless, he stared at the man as his emotions began to skid out of control.

“Agent Laurenzo? Do you think it’s him?” The detective’s voice sounded a million miles away.

He quickly went into auto-mode. “I don’t know yet. What did you find?”