He probably expected his son to look heartbroken at this news.
Instead, Royce’s dark smile widened. “You’re right. I don’t—not in that one. But in the accounts you don’t know about?” He looked so cocky, so sure. “Hell, if we close this, I can transfer funds by the end of business tomorrow.” The smile faded. “My offer is fifty million.”
“No,” Macalister said quickly. “I won’t let you bankrupt yourself.”
“Oh, spare me. You and I both know I’ll be fine.” It was as if he’d thrown off his disguise and finally risen to his true form. He was Ares in the flesh, hungry for battle. Starving for war. “Quit stalling and let’s fucking negotiate.”
The tension between them was a cable stretched to its limit and ready to snap.
Macalister turned his head and looked down his nose at me with shrewd eyes, like he was deciding my worth. Discerning if I’d be a good investment and worth the risk.
Beneath all the shock, I finally found my voice, although it was a broken whisper. “Royce.”
I didn’t understand what he was doing. If his life’s goal was to wrest control away from his father, he’d need every dollar he had, plus considerable help from outside investors. He’d secured that, it’d seemed, given his dramatic attitude shift today.
So, what the fuck?
Was he willing to risk everything he’d ever wanted . . . for me?
There was a tightness in my chest. A pain I couldn’t pinpoint as another thought took hold.
Royce Hale was a liar. It was possible everything he’d just said wasn’t true. A bluff. Maybe there wasn’t enough in his accounts. What if he’d asked for an enormous loan to give him the chance to undo his mistake?
I stared at him as he awaited his father’s answer, his hands balled into angry fists and his posture screaming he wanted a fight.
Macalister was the opposite. Calm, indifferent. “No.”
The word hit me like a rock to the head, and I stumbled backward. “What do you mean, no?”
The older Hale watched me curiously as I wobbled on my feet, barely able to stand. He had so much money, maybe he didn’t care to have more, but fifty million? And moreover, it wasn’t about that. Royce’s huge offer came loaded with power. His father would always be able to lord over his son what a terrible transaction Royce had made, buying me back at five times the price he’d sold me for.
“I’m not interested in Royce’s offer.” Macalister stood there in his black suit and red tie, looking so fucking comfortable you’d never believe what he’d just turned down. “However, I have an offer for Marist.”
My stomach clenched. “What?”
“A new game.”
“No.” There wasn’t any hesitation from me.
He scowled. “You’ll listen to me first before making your decision.” His gaze flicked to Royce. “Be aware this negotiation is with her and her alone. If you can’t control yourself, you can’t stay.” When he was satisfied Royce understood, his focus returned to me. “If you win, I’ll step aside. You can be with Royce in whatever capacity you want. You’ll have your car. If you wish, you can return to your parents’ home until the wedding. You’ll be allowed to make your own decisions, even if they’re the wrong ones.”
My mouth dropped open.
He was offering freedom. Total freedom from him and his control. It was too tempting to ignore, but such a great prize would come at a terrible risk. “And if you win?”
He was pleased I’d asked, rather than reject him again. But his pause was so long, I could tell a direct answer wasn’t forthcoming.
“Do you want to know which of the myths is my favorite? The story of the Minotaur.” He lifted a hand, gesturing to our surroundings. “Fitting, given where we are, don’t you think?”
The Minotaur was a monstrous half-man, half-bull creature who’d lived in the center of the complicated Labyrinth.
“There are different versions of the myth,” he said. “Some say it’s seven men and seven women every seven years, and others say nine, but the rest is the same. They’re sent into the Labyrinth and try to escape before the Minotaur catches them.” The wind blew through the channels of the maze, swirling around us, but didn’t affect him. Like it hadn’t been given his permission. His expression was too focused, too intense. “Tonight, I’ll be the Minotaur. If you can escape the maze before I catch you, you win.”
My breath came and went in short bursts. I was wise enough to know it couldn’t be that simple. I had to think two moves ahead. “You didn’t answer my question. What happens if you win?”
Wickedness played across his attractive face, accentuating his high, elegant cheekbones. “Then I get the same prize as the Minotaur.”
Words choked in my throat, refusing to come out, and my cheeks burned hot like I’d carelessly fallen asleep in the sun.