The Rules Of The Game
1124 Words
Lena barely had time to process what she had agreed to before Damian’s assistant whisked her into another room—one with floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with legal books, a massive conference table, and a very official-looking document waiting for her.
“Sign this.”
Damian’s voice was smooth, controlled, like he wasn’t asking—he was commanding.
She folded her arms. “You have got to stop bossing me around.”
“I will,” he said. “As soon as you learn how to listen.”
Her jaw tightened. “What exactly is this?”
“A contract.”
Of course, it was.
Lena picked it up, skimming over the fine print. It was thick, filled with clauses, rules, and legal jargon that made her head spin. But some parts stood out immediately:
• She would move into his penthouse immediately.
• She would attend events and public appearances as his fiancée.
• No dating, no scandals, and no breaking the illusion.
• The engagement would last for a minimum of six months—or until he decided otherwise.
• And under no circumstances was she allowed to fall in love with him.
Lena snorted. “Seriously? A no-falling-in-love clause?”
Damian’s gray eyes darkened. “It’s necessary.”
“For who? You?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Sign the contract, Lena.”
She tapped the page. “And what if I say no?”
He leaned in slightly, his voice a low warning. “You won’t.”
A slow shiver ran down her spine. Not out of fear—but because of the way his gaze locked onto hers, pinning her in place.
Damn it. Why did he have to be so intense?
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the pen and signed.
The second the ink dried, Damian took the contract, tucked it away in a folder, and stood. “Pack your things. You’re moving in tonight.”
Her stomach flipped. What had she just done?
******That Night – Damian’s Penthouse *****
Lena had seen luxury before.
She had walked past high-end boutiques, admired the glossy penthouses displayed in real estate magazines, and even stepped into the occasional five-star hotel lobby when she was feeling particularly daring.
But nothing—nothing—could have prepared her for Damian’s world.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing an expansive glass-walled penthouse that practically glowed with wealth. A sunken living room with plush designer furniture, an open-concept kitchen that gleamed with Italian marble, and a spiral staircase that led to what she assumed was an upper level.
She barely had time to take it all in before Damian strode past her, unbuttoning his suit jacket. “Your room is down the hall. Second door on the right.”
Lena blinked, still rooted to the spot. “Wait. That’s it?”
He turned, one eyebrow raised. “What were you expecting? A grand tour?”
“Well… yeah.” She gestured vaguely around her. “This place is insane.”
He smirked. “You’ll get used to it.”
She highly doubted that.
Still, she squared her shoulders and followed his lead, dragging her suitcase down the hall until she reached her assigned room. When she pushed the door open, her breath caught.
It was stunning—all sleek white bedding, a sprawling window with a nighttime city view, and a walk-in closet bigger than her entire apartment.
She stepped inside, trailing her fingers over the vanity. “This doesn’t feel real.”
“It is,” Damian said from the doorway.
She turned to face him. “You live alone in all this space?”
He nodded, expression unreadable. “I prefer it that way.”
Lena studied him. His world was one of wealth, power, and solitude. And for the next six months, she was supposed to play the role of the woman he loved.
The thought sent a strange shiver through her.
“Get some rest,” he said, his voice softer this time. “Tomorrow, we start making this believable.”
Her heart pounded as he walked away, leaving her alone with the realization that this was really happening.
*****The Next Morning – The First Test*****
Lena’s alarm went off at six a.m.
She groaned, burying her face in the silk pillow. She had barely slept, tossing and turning all night as her mind ran through every possible worst-case scenario this arrangement could bring.
And now, it was time to face it head-on.
By the time she emerged from her room, Damian was already in the kitchen, dressed in a crisp navy suit, sipping black coffee like he had been up for hours.
He barely glanced at her. “You’re late.”
She frowned. “For what?”
He set down his cup. “Our first public appearance is today.”
Lena stiffened. “What?”
“I arranged a breakfast at The Windsor. The press will be watching.”
Her stomach flipped. He hadn’t mentioned this last night.
“You should’ve warned me,” she snapped.
His gaze was cool. “Consider this your first lesson, Lena. In my world, things move fast. Adapt, or fall behind.”
She wanted to throttle him.
Instead, she inhaled sharply and lifted her chin. “Fine. But I’ll need to change.”
“Wear the dress on your bed,” he said. “And hurry.”
***The Windsor Hotel – Their First Public Test***
The moment they stepped out of the car, cameras flashed like fireworks.
Lena’s pulse skyrocketed. She barely had time to process the swarm of photographers, journalists, and bystanders before Damian’s hand slid around her waist.
The touch sent a jolt through her.
“Smile,” he murmured against her ear. “And act like you’re in love with me.”
Lena plastered on the best smile she could manage, even as her heart thundered.
The reporters were relentless.
“Mr. Blackwood! Is it true you’re engaged?”
“Lena! How did you meet?”
“When’s the wedding?”
Lena had no idea how to handle the chaos. But Damian? He was flawless.
He answered questions smoothly, oozing confidence, his arm never leaving her waist. And when one reporter asked how they fell in love, he turned to her with a smirk.
“Tell them, sweetheart.”
Lena’s breath hitched. Bastard. He was testing her.
But she refused to falter.
She turned to the cameras, letting a slow smile curl her lips. “It was love at first sight.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Damian’s smirk widened, as if she had passed his test.
And in that moment, Lena realized something terrifying.
If she wasn’t careful, she might actually start believing in this lie.
- Writer
