Chapter 10: New Rules, New Chains
938 Words
The limousine ride home was a war of silence.
Ares sat beside her, arms crossed, one hand clenched into a fist against his knee.
Elara pressed herself into the corner of the seat, staring out the tinted window, jaw tight.
Outside, the city blurred by in gold and neon. Inside, the tension was suffocating.
She could still feel the heat of his anger radiating off him, could still hear the echo of his words.
“You’re mine.”
The words had wrapped around her like barbed wire.
Not because they scared her — but because part of her had wanted them to mean something more than control.
And that part of her?
Was losing the war.
When the car pulled into the private garage beneath the penthouse, Ares didn’t wait for the driver to open the door. He was out in seconds, the door swinging closed behind him with a slam that shook the frame.
Elara followed, slower, her heels clicking on the polished concrete as she stepped into the elevator.
The doors closed.
Silence.
And then—
“You humiliated me tonight,” he said without turning.
Her eyes narrowed. “He humiliated me.”
“You should’ve shut it down,” Ares snapped, finally turning to face her.
“I did. After you watched it happen.”
He stepped closer.
She refused to move.
“I don’t need my wife smiling at men who want to destroy me,” he said, voice low.
“I don’t need a husband who only acts like one when he’s jealous,” she replied coldly.
That landed.
His jaw tightened.
“From now on,” he said, his voice as cold as the marble floors, “you don’t speak to other men unless I give you permission.”
Elara’s heart dropped. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“You can’t control me like that.”
“I can,” he said, stepping closer, “and I will.”
The elevator stopped. The doors opened into the penthouse.
He stepped out.
She stayed inside.
Frozen.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, barely above a whisper. “You say I’m your wife. You say I belong to you. But you only show up when someone threatens what’s yours.”
He turned, slowly.
And for a moment — just a flicker — the storm in his eyes cracked.
“You are not just mine in name, Elara,” he said. “You are mine in every way that matters.”
“You don’t get to decide that,” she whispered.
He took one step back toward her.
“No,” he said. “But I will.”
⸻
She didn’t remember walking to the living room.
All she remembered was standing there — trembling — when he turned to her and said:
“Sit.”
Her body obeyed before her mind caught up.
She hated that.
Hated that part of her still listened when he gave orders.
Ares moved to the bar, poured himself a drink, and faced her with a calm that was anything but.
“Tonight was a reminder,” he said. “That this marriage, however it began, is now real. And real marriages have expectations.”
She laughed bitterly. “So we’re rewriting the contract now?”
He ignored that.
“I don’t need you to love me,” he said, sipping the amber liquid. “In fact, I forbid it.”
Her head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
“Love complicates things,” he said. “This marriage exists to protect reputations. To maintain power. Nothing more.”
“So why marry me at all?” she asked, her voice shaking.
His gaze dropped to the glass. For a moment, silence stretched between them.
Then—
“Because chaos destroys legacies,” he said. “And convenience… doesn’t.”
Her heart twisted.
Convenience.
That was all she’d ever been.
“And because you,” he added, his eyes locking onto hers, “have something no one else does.”
Her breath caught.
“What?” she asked.
Ares crossed the room in two strides, stopping just in front of her.
He leaned down, his voice like silk over steel.
“Obedience,” he whispered. “And desperation.”
The words punched the air from her lungs.
Elara shot to her feet, fury igniting her veins.
“I’m not your pet,” she spat.
Ares didn’t move.
“No,” he said quietly. “You’re my wife.”
The words were colder than any slap.
She turned, ready to storm off.
But he wasn’t done.
“New rules,” he said, his voice sharp, cutting through the air like glass.
She stopped.
“Rule one,” he said. “Appearances must be perfect. We are the model couple in public.”
She said nothing.
“Rule two: No emotional entanglements. You are not to fall in love with me.”
The words sliced her pride open like a knife.
And finally—
“Rule three,” he said, walking past her toward the hallway, “you will not embarrass me. Ever.”
Elara stood alone in the glittering silence.
A prisoner in a penthouse.
A doll in a gilded cage.
But even as tears threatened, she swallowed them.
Because despite everything…
She wasn’t broken yet.
And she wouldn’t be.
She might have signed a contract.
She might be playing the perfect wife.
But she wouldn’t fall.
Not for the devil who built this empire.
And not for the man behind the mask — no matter how much her heart wanted to.
⸻
- Writer
