“Of course, he did,” Enzo sighs, shaking his head as if his father could see his disappointment.
This game could be more dangerous than all the rest. Because the game is all about surprise. Who knows what event we will face. What enemies he’s sparked to attack. For the next month, we will never be safe. And I don’t know if it’s better I sit on the sidelines, or try to lead myself to ensure my own safety.
“One last thing before I introduce you to the judges. Remember, it doesn’t matter who wins this game, whether it’s Enzo or Kai. After the game is over, you will both have a year to produce an heir. And then the final task has to be completed. If Enzo wins this game, he would simply have to complete the final task solo in order to win. If Kai wins, the games are tied, which means you will both compete in the final round. Either way, a blood heir has to be found.”
Archard doesn’t say what will happen if neither of us produce an heir, but I’m guessing from how the games have worked so far, it woul
dn’t be good.
“Any questions?” Archard asks.
I have a million—like why the hell this stupid game was invented in the first place? What happened to cause this entire sequence of events? But I don’t ask.
“Good, Enzo will take charge first. And as I said, if the five crew members decide you are doing a bad job or that they want to give Kai a chance to lead for any reason, they will take a vote at the end of the day. Any other questions?” Archard repeats himself.
His eyes flitter around the room. “Good.” He whistles and four men and one woman start climbing the ladder up the side of the yacht.
Enzo frowns. He doesn’t like anyone getting on his yacht without his permission.
“I’m Clifton, head of intelligence,” he first man says. His skin is light, his hair shaved, and his clothes are glued to his thick muscles.
“I’m Denziel, head of technology,” the next man says. He’s much smaller than the first, with pale skin, and very little muscle.
“I’m Vance, head sailor,” the next man barks. His voice is rough, just like his exterior. His clothes already look dirty, and his skin is much darker, like he spends all his time in the sun.
“I’m Ulysses, debt collector.” This man is by far the biggest. In some ways he reminds me of Zeke. He’s all big and brawn. But for some reason, I’m not sure he will be as much of the teddy bear Zeke was. His eyes look crueler.
The woman steps forward. She’s in the same uniform of dark pants, boots, and a gray T-shirt. “I’m Odette, in charge of security.” She may be a woman, but she seems just as fierce as all the others on the team.
Enzo nods at all of them. And they all nod back at him, placing their arms behind their backs as they await his orders. They all show him respect, and I have no doubt they all respect him as a leader. It’s a good thing I don’t want the job, because I would be screwed.
In a way, it makes me wonder why we are playing the games if everyone in the organization wants Enzo to be their leader. Did I ever really have a chance? If I had won, would they all revolt against me anyway?
It doesn’t matter now.
I should just go slink back into my room and hide away for the next month. Let Enzo do his thing. Prove even further that he deserves to Mr. Black. He’s always been Enzo Black, since birth. He never went by his true last name of Rinaldi. He was born into this, while I was born into nothing.
I am nothing.
I am no one.
Which will make it easier to disappear.
I take a step back as Enzo makes small talk with the men and woman who boarded his yacht. He’s already drilling them on the status of everything, and I hear him correct one of them when they answer incorrectly. How has he had time to keep up with all the day to day operations with everything else going on?
I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just want to go hide away in my room where it’s safe.
I take another step back and another. If I didn’t hate Enzo so much, I would almost admire how the team falls in line with him at the helm. But I don’t admire him; my heart hates him. So I don’t notice that.
Another step back.
And then I turn.
And run into a hard chest.
I bounce off it, and I see his hands rise to stabilize me, but they stop midair. He won’t touch me without my permission.
“How did you—?” I start, not able to understand how Enzo moved from one side of the deck to the other in a matter of seconds without me hearing him.