Chapter 4: The Rules Of Living Together
892 Words
The bedroom was bigger than my entire apartment.
That was the first thing I noticed when the doors opened.
I stopped walking. For a moment, I just stared. The room was massive, with tall glass windows stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Soft golden lights reflected off the polished wooden floors, and in the center of the room stood an enormous king-sized bed.
A very enormous king-sized bed.
My brain immediately focused on the problem.
One bed,
one room.
One year.
I slowly turned toward Adrian.
“ You didn’t mention this part of the contract.”
Adrian walked into the room as if nothing about this situation was unusual.
“We’re married.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to share a bed.”
He loosened his tie slightly, looking completely relaxed.
“To everyone in this house,” he said calmly, “We are a normal married couple.”
I crossed my arms.
“And normal couples sleep in thesame bed?”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? “
Adrian finally looked at me directly.
“No.”
Which somehow made it worse.
He walked towards a nearby table and set down his phone before turning back to me.
“You’re overthinking it.”
“Oh, I’m overthinking it?” I repeated.
“Yes.”
“This is literally the first night of our fake marriage.”
“And?”
“And you expect me to sleep next to a billionaire I barely know calmly!”
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
“You signed the contract.”
I groaned softly and dropped onto the edge of the bed.
“This is going to be a very long year.”
Adrian watched me for a moment before speaking again.
“You can relax.”
I looked up suspiciously.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not interested in making this arrangement comfortable for you.”
That was… unexpected.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he added.
I blinked.
“You will?”
“Yes.”
I glanced across the room. There was a large couch across the window. Still luxurious but definitely not as comfortable as the bed.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said slowly.
Adrian shrugged slightly.
“It’s practical.”
“You’re always practical.”
“It works.”
I studied him for a moment.
“Do you ever do anything spontaneous?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Marrying you.
The thought seemed to flash briefly across his eyes, but he didn’t say it out loud.
Instead, he walked towards a large closet door.
“Your clothes will be delivered tomorrow.”
“My clothes?”
“Yes.”
“What’s wrong with the ones I already have?
Adrian paused.
Then he looked at my simple dress.
“They’re not suitable.”
I frowned.
“Suitable for what?”
“For being my wife.”
The bluntness made me sigh.
“I had a feeling this was coming.”
“You’ll have a personal stylist,” he continued calmly.
“A stylist?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve never had a stylist.”
“You do now.”
This man was unbelievable.
“What else comes with this sudden billionaire lifestyle?” I asked.
Adrian thought for a moment.
“Security.”
“Security?”
“Drivers.”
“Oh.”
“Assistants.”
“Of course.”
“And public appearances”
I sat up straighter.
“Public appearances?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“As many as necessary.”
I buried my face in my hands for a moment.
This was a long process.
When u looked back up, Adrian was watching me carefully.
“You can still walk away,” he said quietly.
The offer surprised me. I shook my head slowly.
“No.”
My father’s company flashed in my mind again.
“I made the deal,” I said firmly.
“I'll keep it.”
Adrian nodded once.
“Good.”
There was a brief silence.
Then he spoke again.
“There’s one more rule.”
I narrowed my eyes slightly,
“There's always one more rule.”
His voice remained calm.
“In public, you must act as if you care about me.”
I laughed.
“That's going to require some serious acting.”
“You'll manage.”
“And what about you?” I asked.
“What about me?”
“You're supposed to act as if you care about your wife too.”
Adrian looked thoughtful for a moment
“That may be slightly more difficult.”
I smirked.
“So the cold billionaire does have weaknesses.”
“Not many.”
“Well,” I said, standing up, “this should be interesting.”
Adrian nodded slightly.
“Yes.”
Then his grey eyes met mine again.
And for the first time that night, something about his expression felt different.
Less distant.
Less cold.
“Get some sleep, Lena,” he said quietly.
“Tomorrow we start convincing the world we are in love”
My heart skipped slightly as the words. Because pretending to love Andria Wolfe might turn out to be much harder than I expected.
And something told me that somewhere along the way the pretending might stop.
- Writer
