My Husband's Intimate Game Rules - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
You are reading My Husband's Intimate Game Rules, Chapter 8: Chapter 8. Read more chapters of My Husband's Intimate Game Rules.
Under Mason Reynolds' care, Tiffany quit her job without a second thought. Her new life became an endless cycle of luxury—shopping sprees, five-star dining, and pampering herself at every turn.
Meanwhile, my workload skyrocketed. Tiffany turned out to be even more high-maintenance than Lily Harrison. Some days I'd remake the same dish three times before she'd stop complaining.
One afternoon, about a month after Tiffany moved in, Lily rushed out for some emergency. Mason summoned me to the tea lounge like some royal decree.
Tiffany was already there, arms crossed with a thunderous expression. My stomach dropped the moment I stepped inside.
Mason crooked a finger, beckoning me closer. "Diana Collins," he said in that deceptively calm voice, "have you been keeping secrets from me?"
I froze. "What kind of secrets?"
"Don't play dumb. This concerns Lily."
Tiffany inspected her manicure with a smirk. "Just spill it. Has she been seeing other men?"
Finally catching on, I shook my head hard.
Mason's palm cracked across my face before I could blink. "Talk!" he roared.
My ears rang as fire spread across my cheek. The coppery taste of blood flooded my mouth. I staggered back from his rage, my pulse hammering.
Even an idiot could see Tiffany wanted Lily out of the picture. I wasn't about to get caught in that crossfire. "I... I did see Lily with someone," I lied, my voice shaking. "Started over a month ago..."
Mason's face turned purple. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
Cradling my throbbing cheek, I whispered, "You were crazy about her back then. Would you have believed me? I'd just have gotten another beating."
"And you're not getting one now?" His hand reared back again.
Tiffany suddenly perked up, catching his wrist. "What's the point?" she purred. "Her fear makes sense. Besides, I still think that baby's yours. Honestly, I trust our sister."
"Bullshit!"
Mason's eyes narrowed like a predator's. "I won't sleep until there's a paternity test."
Tiffany pouted. "Lily adores you. Is this really necessary? They can't even do amniotic testing until her fourth month."
"Then we wait four months."
His gaze flicked between us, turning dangerous. "Not a word to anyone. When Lily hits sixteen weeks, we test that baby quietly. If either of you breathes a word..." He grabbed a cucumber from the table and snapped it in half with a sickening crunch. "I'll skin you alive."
Tiffany and I locked terrified eyes, both shaking our heads violently.
"Diana knows better," Mason mused. Then his icy smile shifted to Tiffany as he suddenly seized her throat. "But you, Tiffany Grant—you're Lily's best friend. That makes me... uneasy."
Gasping for air, Tiffany choked out, "Mason... I love you. In five months I'll be your wife. If she betrayed you... wouldn't removing her just... clear my way?"
Mason's grip loosened as a gruesome smile spread across his face. "Now that's a language I speak fluently."
Meanwhile, my workload skyrocketed. Tiffany turned out to be even more high-maintenance than Lily Harrison. Some days I'd remake the same dish three times before she'd stop complaining.
One afternoon, about a month after Tiffany moved in, Lily rushed out for some emergency. Mason summoned me to the tea lounge like some royal decree.
Tiffany was already there, arms crossed with a thunderous expression. My stomach dropped the moment I stepped inside.
Mason crooked a finger, beckoning me closer. "Diana Collins," he said in that deceptively calm voice, "have you been keeping secrets from me?"
I froze. "What kind of secrets?"
"Don't play dumb. This concerns Lily."
Tiffany inspected her manicure with a smirk. "Just spill it. Has she been seeing other men?"
Finally catching on, I shook my head hard.
Mason's palm cracked across my face before I could blink. "Talk!" he roared.
My ears rang as fire spread across my cheek. The coppery taste of blood flooded my mouth. I staggered back from his rage, my pulse hammering.
Even an idiot could see Tiffany wanted Lily out of the picture. I wasn't about to get caught in that crossfire. "I... I did see Lily with someone," I lied, my voice shaking. "Started over a month ago..."
Mason's face turned purple. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
Cradling my throbbing cheek, I whispered, "You were crazy about her back then. Would you have believed me? I'd just have gotten another beating."
"And you're not getting one now?" His hand reared back again.
Tiffany suddenly perked up, catching his wrist. "What's the point?" she purred. "Her fear makes sense. Besides, I still think that baby's yours. Honestly, I trust our sister."
"Bullshit!"
Mason's eyes narrowed like a predator's. "I won't sleep until there's a paternity test."
Tiffany pouted. "Lily adores you. Is this really necessary? They can't even do amniotic testing until her fourth month."
"Then we wait four months."
His gaze flicked between us, turning dangerous. "Not a word to anyone. When Lily hits sixteen weeks, we test that baby quietly. If either of you breathes a word..." He grabbed a cucumber from the table and snapped it in half with a sickening crunch. "I'll skin you alive."
Tiffany and I locked terrified eyes, both shaking our heads violently.
"Diana knows better," Mason mused. Then his icy smile shifted to Tiffany as he suddenly seized her throat. "But you, Tiffany Grant—you're Lily's best friend. That makes me... uneasy."
Gasping for air, Tiffany choked out, "Mason... I love you. In five months I'll be your wife. If she betrayed you... wouldn't removing her just... clear my way?"
Mason's grip loosened as a gruesome smile spread across his face. "Now that's a language I speak fluently."
End of My Husband's Intimate Game Rules Chapter 8. Continue reading Chapter 9 or return to My Husband's Intimate Game Rules book page.