Chapter 7: New Rules
998 Words
The first rays of sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow across the penthouse.
Aria stirred awake.
For a brief moment, she forgot where she was.
The soft king-sized bed.
The elegant bedroom.
The breathtaking view of London’s skyline.
Then reality returned.
She was living in Damien Ashford’s penthouse.
As his fiancée.
Soon…
His wife.
She sighed and sat up.
“This is going to be a long year.”
⸻
After showering and changing into a cream blouse and black trousers provided by the house staff, Aria made her way downstairs.
The penthouse was unusually quiet.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted from the dining room.
She followed it.
Damien was already seated at the long marble table.
A newspaper lay folded beside him while he calmly read through a stack of business reports.
He looked up briefly.
“Good morning.”
She hesitated.
“Good morning.”
Mrs Hawthorne appeared with breakfast.
Eggs.
Toast.
Fresh fruit.
Coffee.
Everything looked perfect.
The older woman placed a plate before Aria.
“Good morning, Miss Bennett.”
There was still a hint of stiffness in her voice.
But it was far more respectful than yesterday.
“Thank you.”
Mrs Hawthorne nodded before quietly leaving.
Neither Aria nor Damien spoke for several minutes.
Only the sound of cutlery echoed through the dining room.
Finally…
Damien folded his newspaper.
“We should discuss the rules.”
Aria looked up.
“The rules?”
“For living together.”
She leaned back in her chair.
“I’m listening.”
Damien reached into his briefcase and placed a single sheet of paper on the table.
At the top, it read:
HOUSE RULES
Aria couldn’t help laughing.
“You actually typed them?”
“I prefer clarity.”
She picked up the paper.
⸻
Rule One
Respect each other’s privacy.
Bedrooms are strictly private unless invited.
⸻
Rule Two
Do not enter my personal office inside the penthouse.
⸻
She raised an eyebrow.
“You have a private office here?”
“Yes.”
“And it’s off limits?”
“Yes.”
“What’s in there?”
Damien calmly sipped his coffee.
“My office.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Very informative.”
⸻
Rule Three
Do not ask unnecessary questions about my family.
⸻
She frowned.
“Why?”
“My family is… complicated.”
“So is mine.”
He held her gaze.
“I know.”
“But some subjects are better left untouched.”
She made no promises.
⸻
She continued reading.
⸻
Rule Four
Our relationship exists only within the terms of the contract.
No emotional attachment.
⸻
Aria blinked.
“What?”
Damien’s expression remained perfectly calm.
“We’re partners.”
“Nothing more.”
She looked at him in disbelief.
“You actually wrote ‘No emotional attachment’?”
“I did.”
She burst into laughter.
“You really think I’m going to fall in love with you?”
“I don’t.”
“Good.”
“I simply prefer avoiding unnecessary complications.”
She folded her arms.
“Don’t worry.”
“I have no intention of falling for a billionaire who treats life like a business meeting.”
For the first time that morning…
Damien smiled.
“A relief for both of us.”
⸻
He continued.
“We’ll also need to establish appearances.”
“What does that mean?”
“In public, we hold hands.”
“We smile.”
“We attend events together.”
“We behave like an affectionate couple.”
“And in private?”
“We mind our own business.”
Aria nodded.
“That I can manage.”
Damien stood.
“I’ll leave for the office in thirty minutes.”
“You’ll start working there on Monday.”
Until then, familiarise yourself with the penthouse.”
He picked up his jacket.
“And Aria…”
She looked up.
“Try not to break any rules.”
She smiled innocently.
“I’ll do my best.”
Damien wasn’t convinced.
“I somehow doubt that.”
⸻
An hour later…
The penthouse was quiet again.
Curiosity quickly got the better of Aria.
She wandered from room to room.
A private library.
A cinema room.
A gym.
An indoor swimming pool.
She couldn’t believe one person actually lived here.
Eventually she reached the end of the hallway.
One dark wooden door stood slightly apart from the others.
There was no nameplate.
No decoration.
Just a fingerprint scanner beside the handle.
She immediately recognised it.
Damien’s office.
She remembered Rule Two.
Do not enter my personal office.
She folded her arms.
“Relax, Aria.”
“It’s just an office.”
She turned to leave.
Then she noticed something.
The door wasn’t fully closed.
It was slightly open.
Just enough to see inside.
Her curiosity flared.
“I’m not entering…”
She whispered to herself.
“I’m only looking.”
She gently pushed the door wider.
The office was elegant but surprisingly personal.
Bookshelves covered one wall.
Awards lined another.
A large oak desk sat beneath the window.
Family photographs rested neatly in silver frames.
Her eyes landed on one picture.
A teenage Damien stood beside a beautiful young woman with long dark hair.
Both were laughing.
She’d never seen Damien smile like that.
“Who are you…?”
She stepped inside almost without thinking.
Another photograph caught her attention.
This time it showed Damien, an elderly gentleman, and a little girl holding balloons.
The warmth in the images felt completely different from the cold billionaire the world knew.
Suddenly…
A quiet voice echoed behind her.
“I thought the rules were clear.”
Aria froze.
Slowly…
She turned around.
Damien stood in the doorway.
His briefcase still in one hand.
His expression impossible to read.
He looked from her…
To the photographs…
Then back to her.
Neither of them spoke.
After several long seconds, Damien quietly closed the office door behind him.
- Writer
