Chapter 5: The Rules We Write
603 Words
The next morning brought a surprise.
Lena awoke to find a crisp white envelope slid under her door. Inside was a single card embossed with the Blackwood family crest and three chilling words:
**“Dinner. Eight. Formal.”**
She blinked at it. Damien had said they’d only make occasional public appearances. So why was he calling a formal dinner barely three days into their contract?
Curiosity gnawed at her. So did anxiety.
By 7:30, her nerves were barely holding together as she stood before her closet—now stocked with designer gowns Damien’s staff had selected. She chose a deep emerald dress that hugged her curves and bared her shoulders, elegant but unassuming.
As the clock struck eight, she descended the staircase. Soft instrumental music drifted through the house, and Damien stood waiting at the bottom, dressed in a charcoal suit that made him look even more dangerous.
His gaze swept over her. “You clean up well.”
“I aim to please,” she replied, trying not to sound breathless.
He led her into the formal dining room—dim lighting, flickering candles, a private chef waiting to serve. The table was long, designed to seat twenty. Tonight, it was just them.
She lifted a brow. “This doesn’t seem staged.”
“It’s not,” he said. “This is for us.”
“For us?”
Damien motioned for her to sit. “If we’re going to sell this marriage to the world, we need to learn how to play the part. We need to know each other’s tells, rhythms, weaknesses.”
“Is this an interrogation?”
“A rehearsal.”
---
As dinner began, the questions started.
“Favorite color?” he asked between bites of grilled sea bass.
“Crimson.”
“Childhood dream?”
“Artist.” She sipped her wine. “You?”
His knife paused. “Escape.”
“From what?”
He didn’t answer.
“Okay, fine,” she said, folding her napkin. “My turn.”
He looked up, amused. “Go on.”
“What’s the real reason you needed a wife so suddenly?”
Damien didn’t blink. “A board merger. One of our major partners is extremely traditional. They believe a stable family man makes a stable CEO.”
“So you used me to soften your image.”
“You used me to save your father’s company.”
Touché.
They ate in silence for a moment before he asked, “What’s your greatest fear?”
She swallowed. “Wasting my life.”
His eyes softened just a little. “Then don’t.”
---
After dinner, Damien escorted her to the balcony overlooking the ocean.
The stars were sharp against the night sky. The waves crashed rhythmically below, soothing and powerful all at once.
He leaned against the railing beside her. “You surprise me.”
“How so?”
“You’re not afraid of me.”
“I’m not sure yet,” she admitted. “But I’m definitely curious.”
He glanced at her, something unreadable in his gaze. “Curiosity can be dangerous.”
“Good thing I’m used to danger.”
He smiled faintly, and for the first time, Lena saw something break in his facade—a shadow of vulnerability, quickly hidden again.
“Goodnight, Lena,” he said, stepping back.
“Goodnight, Damien.”
As he disappeared into the hall, she stayed at the railing, staring at the dark waves.
This wasn’t what she’d signed up for. It was more.
More complicated.
More real.
And far more dangerous than she’d expected.
- Writer
