The Billionaire Who Married Me In Silence

CHAPTER 3: THE RULES I NEVER WANTED

**Lina's POV**

"Refrain from falling for me." The following morning, he said these words to me first. I couldn't move my body as I wanted to drink from the tea cup.

I tried to be careful while dropping the tea cup on the table.

Wearing a charcoal suit, he sits calmly across the huge dining table, as if he's going to a board meeting instead of having breakfast with the wife he married yesterday.

I raise up my head looking at him. "Good morning.” I greeted him, good morning to you too." His eyes darted once, as if he hadn't anticipated it. His expression seems as if he's not bothered about anything.

"I mean it," he declares. "You are making a mistake about this marriage." I breathed out slowly. "I don't believe it to be anything, but I will look on to it”

Sharp lines are drawn across the table as sunlight streams in through the large windows. Faint shadows appear beneath his eyes as it touches his face.

He appears to be a person who doesn't get much sleep. or someone who keeps himself from doing so. "For now, you will survive. In a few days, I'll show you my main residence," he said.

"You don't reside here, do you? Where are we now?

He goes on, "It's none of your business." "You'll have access to personnel, accounts, and anything else you require." You're going to smile in public.

You'll act out the part. Keep out of my way in private. In my lap, my fingers curl. "And you don't enter mine?" He stops.

"Yes.” It feels heavier than it should because of just one word. I give a nod.

"All right." His forehead furrows a bit. "All right?" "What did you think I would say?"

I inquire. "That I would plead for love?" "No," he answers hastily. Too soon. "Let's be clear, please." I say, "We're clear.”

There is uneasy, dense silence between us. A maid comes over, fills his cup with coffee, and then leaves as if she were prying into his personal space.

His gaze remains fixed on me as he takes a sip. "You don't appear to be upset." Before I can stop myself, I chuckle quietly. "If I were, would that make you more at ease?"

He puts down the cup. "This is a challenging situation." "For you?" I inquire. "For us both." I c**k my head. "This is what you chose." He clenches his jaw.

"You did, too." The statements hurt because they are nearly accurate. I get up and shove my chair back. "I want to see the rest of the house once we've finished establishing the rules.”

He looks at me for a while, as if he's trying to determine whether or not I'm an issue that he should ignore or deal with. He says, "Someone will show you around."

I responded, "I don't want someone." "I desire you." The air changes. His eyes grow gloomy. "Why me?" I mumble, "Because you're my husband."

"Even if only on paper." For a moment, I believe he will say no. He stands instead. He responds, "Five minutes." We go side by side through glass corridors and spacious halls.

Neither of us talks, yet our footsteps resonate. The fact that his arm briefly touches mine and sends a shockwave through my body makes me uncomfortably aware of how near he is.

We pause before a huge painting. abstract. chilly hues. "Do you enjoy art?" I inquire. "No." "So, why is this present?" "It was costly." I give a small smile.

"Obviously it was." He gives me a startled look. "You don't feel threatened." "Should I be?" "Yes," he replies. "The majority of people are." “ The majority of people are not me."

He looks at me as if he's uneasy with that comment. We proceed. A library. A fitness center. spaces that seem unoccupied and unaltered.

The house seems to be holding its breath. "Are you a resident here?" I inquire. He stops moving. "What sort of inquiry is that?" "It feels like this place is empty.”

He draws a small line with his lips. "I'm not an entertainer." "I didn't ask that question." He lets out a quick exhale. "This is where I sleep. This is where I work.”

That is sufficient. I respond, "Sounds lonely," then pause to reflect. With keen eyes, he turns to face me. "I didn't request your worry." "I understand." I said.

Tension hums between us as we stand there facing one another. He is now close. Too near. Just above his shirt, I can make out a small scar close to his collarbone.

It seems jagged and pallid against his flesh, as if it hasn't healed properly. "What did you get?" Before I can stop myself, I ask. He tenses his shoulders. "It's outdated." "That isn't a response.”

"You're only going to get one." I keep my eyes on it. "You dislike being asked questions." "I dislike ones that are superfluous." "There is no need for scars."

He clenches his jaw. "There are some things that are better left unsaid." "Do they remain interred?" Quietly, I inquire. Darker now, his eyes darted to mine.

"You won't try to dig if you're intelligent." A thick, heated silence settles between us. I stare. His voice falters. "You're looking at me." I look away and whisper, "Sorry."

"Don't," counsels him. I look up once more. I won't give you what you want. "And what do you think I'm hoping for?" I inquire.

He seems dissatisfied with what he sees and is attempting to figure out the answer as he looks into my eyes. "Love," he says. I swallow. "I know enough."

"This marriage is a business deal," he replies. Not much more. Being polite does not equate to being affectionate. I forced myself to gaze into his eyes despite my chest tightening.

Something flickers across his face. Interest? Acceptance? No, I can't tell. "Good," he whispers.Then we won't disappoint one another."

That night, while I lay awake, I listened to the breathing of the house. Along the corridor, a door opens and closes. His movements. measured and controlled.

When they disappear, I'm upset for no apparent reason. The days that follow blend together. interviews. pictures. My cheeks hurt from the smiles.

He put a tight, possessive, and persuasive arm around my waist in public. He moves away as soon as the cameras stop. But occasionally, our gazes lock.

His touch lingers a moment too long at times. Additionally, I occasionally hear him pacing late at night. On night five, I have a knock on the door.

When I opened it, he was standing there with his tie untied and his jacket undone. He declares, "I need you." My heart falters. "For what purpose?”

"Dinner will be served in a few days," he added. Investors. They will anticipate that we will appear... convincing. I slowly nod. "And?"

"And I need to know if you can handle being close to me without misunderstanding it," he continues, taking a step closer. The distance between us vanishes.

His fragrance is odorous to me. Feel his heat. "I can manage it," I mumble. He looks down at my mouth. I think he's going to kiss me for a second. He takes a step back instead.

"Good," he replies. "Because it won't be easy to stop once this starts." He turned again, wanting to go. "In the meantime, prepare for our move to the main mansion tomorrow.”

I stand there gasping for air as he turns and leaves. I lean my back against the door and shut it. Since I am already aware of the reality. I have no problem feigning love for him.

Regretfully, I will not be acting at all. I started having different thoughts and curiosity at the same time.

I hope his mansion won't look like hell to me, while at the same time my mind is telling me to run away