CHAPTER 3: STRANGE RULES & STRANGER FEELINGS
548 Words
For the rest of the evening, I paced my tiny living room with my arms crossed, replaying every moment with him.
A billionaire.
A mysterious one.
A bossy, arrogant, annoyingly handsome one.
Why on earth was he living in the same building as me? This place wasn’t bad, but it definitely wasn’t billionaire-level.
I was still trying to figure it out when someone knocked.
Three soft taps.
My heart skipped. It had to be him.
I opened the door—and yep. There he was. Leaning on my doorframe like he owned it, looking more put together than any man had a right to at 9 p.m.
“I forgot something,” he said simply.
“What?”
He glanced past me into my apartment. “Can I come in?”
I hesitated, but curiosity pushed my feet back. He stepped inside, scanning my space with slow, observant eyes.
“It’s… cozy,” he said.
I folded my arms. “That’s code for small.”
He smirked. “I didn’t say that.”
“So what did you forget?”
He turned to me, expression shifting into something more serious.
“Rule number two.”
“Rule… number two?” I repeated.
“Yes.” He took a step closer. “If anyone ever comes asking about me—what I do, where I go, who I meet—don’t answer them. Don’t open the door. Don’t even look curious.”
A chill crept up my spine.
“What kind of people would be asking?”
He didn’t blink. “The kind you don’t ever want to talk to.”
I stared at him, suddenly aware of how close he was. “Are you in danger?”
“No.” His voice was deep, final. “But you could be… if you’re not careful.”
I exhaled shakily. “Great. Just what I needed. A dangerous billionaire neighbour.”
He tilted his head. “I’m not dangerous to you.”
“How do I know that?”
For a moment, the playful arrogance dropped. Something softer—almost vulnerable—flickered in his eyes.
“You don’t,” he said quietly. “But I’m telling you anyway.”
We stood there, the tension thick in the air. Then he suddenly looked away, clearing his throat.
“I should go.”
He walked to the door, but paused with his hand on the knob.
“Oh, and neighbour?” he added without turning.
“Rule number three: don’t follow me. Ever.”
I frowned. “Why would I follow you?”
He shot me a look over his shoulder.
“Because you ask too many questions.”
Before I could reply, he stepped out…and gently closed the door behind him.
My heart was pounding so loudly I could hear it echoing in my small living room.
Who was this man?
Why did he care if I followed him?
Why did he have more rules than a kindergarten teacher?
But the biggest question was—
Why did I suddenly care way too much about what he thought?
I pressed my back against the door, sliding down slowly.
This was only day two of living here.
And somehow, I already knew:
He was going to flip my whole life upside down.
- Writer
