Chapter 5: The Rules
1531 Words
The penthouse smelled like money and ice.
Floor to ceiling glass. Accra’s skyline behind him. Kairo didn’t look up when I walked in. He was signing papers. Always signing something.
"Sit."
I sat. The leather was cold under me.
He slid a black folder across the glass table. "90 days. That’s all this is."
My fingers touched it but I didn’t open it. "And after 90 days?"
"After 90 days, you’re free. With 10 million cedis." He finally looked at me. Dark eyes. No smile. "But there are rules, Aria."
I swallowed. "What kind of rules?"
He stood. His suit jacket came off. Just white shirt. No tie. And somehow that was worse. More dangerous.
"Rule 1: No feelings." His voice dropped. "What happens in this penthouse stays here. You don’t catch feelings. You don’t ask for more."
I nodded. I could do that. It was just business.
"Rule 2: No questions." He walked to the window. "My past. My family. My phone. You don’t touch it. You don’t ask."
"Okay."
"Rule 3..." He turned back to me. Slow. "Don’t fall for me."
The air got heavy.
"Because I won’t catch you," he said. "I don’t do that."
My chest tightened. But I was broke. My mom’s hospital bills were due in 2 weeks. Pride didn’t pay them.
He pulled out a pen. Gold. Expensive. He slid it across the table with the contract.
"Sign it, Aria. Or walk out broke."
The door behind me felt like a mile away.
His eyes felt like a trap.
I reached for the pen...
My hand shook.
The pen was cold. Too heavy for what it meant.
"You’re stalling," Kairo said. He didn’t move closer. He didn’t have to. His voice filled the whole room.
"My mom..." I started. The words felt weak. "She needs surgery in two weeks. If I don’t pay—"
"I know," he cut in.
I froze. "You know?"
He walked to the bar cart. Poured water. Didn’t drink it. "I know everything about you, Aria. The debt. The job you lost. The nights you cried in that one-room you can’t afford anymore."
Shame burned my face. "You had me investigated?"
"I had you protected," he said. And for a second, the billionaire mask slipped. "Sign the paper. Let me handle the rest."
Ten million cedis. Hospital bills cleared. Rent paid for a year. Freedom.
All I had to give up was... feelings.
I looked up at him. He wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t cruel. He looked tired. Like a man who built walls so high he forgot how to open the gate.
"Rule 3 is impossible," I whispered.
His jaw tightened. "Then try not to make me break Rule 1."
The room went quiet except for the city below us.
I pressed the pen to paper. My signature looked small next to his name printed at the bottom. KAIRO BLACKWOOD.
The moment the ink dried, he took the contract back.
"Good. You move in tonight. Your things will be here by 8PM."
"Tonight?" My voice cracked. "But—"
"Rule 2," he reminded me. No questions.
He walked to the door and opened it for me. Dismissed. Just like that.
As I passed him, his cologne hit me. Expensive. Dark. Addictive.
"Aria," he said, low enough that only I heard.
I stopped but didn’t turn around.
"Don’t fall for me."
I stepped into the elevator without answering.
Because I already felt the fall starting.As I passed him, his cologne hit me.
Expensive. Dark. Addictive.
"Aria," he said, low enough that only I heard.
I stopped but didn’t turn around.
"Don’t fall for me."
I stepped into the elevator without answering.
The doors closed.
Silence.
Just me and my reflection in the steel. I looked broken.
My phone buzzed in my bag.
Mama: **"Aria baby, hospital called again. If we don’t pay by Friday, they will discharge me. Please tell me you have good news."**
Friday. 4 days away.
I pressed my forehead to the cold wall. Ten million cedis. It was real. I signed for it.
The elevator dinged. Lobby.
Marble floors. Gold lights. A doorman who didn’t even look at me. Like girls like me walked out of billionaire penthouses every day.
"Miss?" A driver stood outside. Black suit. Black car. "Mr. Blackwood sent me."
I didn’t ask questions. Rule 2.
The car smelled new. Leather. He drove in silence all the way to my one-room in Nima.
I packed fast. One bag. That was all I owned. 3 dresses. 2 jeans. My mom’s picture. My notebooks from uni.
"That’s everything?" he asked.
I nodded. It looked pathetic in the backseat of this car.
Back to the penthouse by 7:40PM.
Mama Grace opened the door. "You’re home, dear."
Home. That word hit wrong.
She took me to my room. It wasn’t a room. It was a suite. Bigger than my whole old apartment.
King bed. White sheets. A closet already full.
I walked to it slow. Designer dresses. Tags still on. My size.
"I didn’t buy these," I whispered.
Mama Grace smiled soft. "Mr. Blackwood’s stylist did. For events."
Events. Right. I was a contract girlfriend now. I had to look like one.
A black card sat on the bed. Gold writing.
**"Closet is stocked. Fridge is full. Don’t leave without security. K."**
Just `K`. No `From`. No `Sincerely`.
My phone buzzed. Same unknown number.
**"8PM. Dinner. Don’t be late."**
My stomach flipped. Dinner. Alone. With him.
I stared at the dresses. I couldn’t. It felt like giving in too fast.
I put on my plain black dress instead. Safe. Invisible.
The terrace at 8PM sharp.
Candles. Real silverware. Accra’s lights below us.
He was already there. No suit jacket. Black shirt. Sleeves rolled up. And somehow that was worse. More dangerous. More him.
He didn’t stand. Just pointed to the chair.
"Sit."
I sat.
Food came. Lobster. Steak. Wine I didn’t drink.
We ate in silence. The quiet was loud.
"You didn’t wear the dresses," he said. Not looking up.
My fork stopped. "I have my own clothes."
He looked up then. Eyes on me. Sharp. "I know. That’s not the point."
"Then what is?"
"The point," he said, cutting his steak slow, "is you signed a contract. Play the part."
My face burned. "I’m not a doll."
He set his knife down. "No. You’re not."
The way he said it made my chest tight.
He leaned back. "Eat, Aria. Rule 1 doesn’t mean I starve you."
So I ate. It tasted like guilt.
When we finished, he stood. Came to my side of the table. Too close.
I could smell his cologne again. Cedar. Dark. Addictive.
He reached past me. I froze.
He took the napkin from my lap. Folded it. Set it down.
"Don’t fall for me," he said. Right to my face. Low.
Then he walked inside. Left me alone with the candles.
I sat there a long time after.
The city was noisy. My heart was louder.
Because the fall was already happening.
And I was too broke to climb back up.
I didn’t move from the terrace until the candles burned out.
My phone buzzed. Mama again.
**"Aria, the nurse said Friday is final. If no money, they will discharge me to home care. Please baby."**
I closed my eyes. Friday.
I pulled out the black card K left on my bed.
No limit. No name. Just his.
My thumb hovered over it. Using his money felt like signing the contract all over again.
But my mom’s life wasn’t a contract.
I stood up. My legs shook.
Mama Grace was still up. "Can’t sleep, dear?"
"I need to make a call."
She nodded. "Mr. Blackwood’s driver is on standby. 24/7."
24/7. He planned for everything.
I didn’t call the hospital yet. I went to my room instead.
The bed was too big. Too empty.
I lay down on top of the duvet, still in my black dress.
The ceiling was white. No cracks. No leaks.
For the first time in months, I wasn’t scared of the rent.
But I was scared of him.
My phone lit up at 12:01AM.
Unknown number.
**"You’re still awake."**
He was watching. Again.
I typed back before I could stop myself. **"So are you."**
3 dots. Then nothing.
He didn’t reply.
I stared at the screen until it went dark.
Ten million cedis. 90 days.
Rule 1: No feelings.
Rule 2: No questions.
Rule 3: Don’t fall for me.
I was already breaking all 3.
And it was only Night 1.
I didn’t sleep.
How could I?
Rule 1: No feelings.
Rule 2: No questions.
Rule 3: Don’t fall for me.
But his text was still burning in my head.
**"You're still awake."**
Like he cared.
At 3 AM I got up.
The villa was silent.
I found him in the kitchen.
No suit. Just a black shirt.
Hair messy.
He looked younger. Human.
"Can’t sleep either?" I said.
He looked up.
"Rules are hard to follow," he said.
"Which one?"
"All three."
I swallowed hard.
"Same."
He poured me water.
Our fingers brushed.
Neither of us pulled away.
Night 1 wasn’t over yet.[End Of Chapter 5]
- Writer
