The tension in the air was thick as Darius and I sat on the edge of our bed cooling off from the day. But Darius still looked pissed off.
Why did I make that stupid bet? Surely there was other ways to get rid of Ethan. It was a fucked up move, purely born out of spite and a need to prove myself.
"You sure you can pull this off?" Darius asked me skeptically.
I shifted uncomfortably. "What's that supposed to mean? You doubt that I can win the bet against Ethan?"
He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It's Decimus. He's cunning, and you're... well, you're incredibly lucky without strategy. What if you lose a round? Are you willingly going to pack up and run to him like some prize?"
His words stung, hitting deeper than I expected.
Doubt from him? After everything? I may not be the most strategic person but having no strategy was my strategy.
And last I checked it with him, I was just was fine.
Fucking asshole.
