The Rules Of The Game
1009 Words
Helena had never felt so stuck before. The world saw a different picture—one of love, devotion, and wealth—despite the forced engagement. Every interaction she had with Damien was a test of control, and every step she took was a performance.
She was unsure of her ability to continue the show. After an exhausting gala filled with forced smiles and whispered threats, all she wanted to do was take off her dress and curl up in her bed.But Damien's voice stopped her as soon as they entered the penthouse.
“Sit.”
With her arms crossed, Helena turned.
"Permit me?"
Damien fixed his sharp gaze on her as he leaned against the leather couch's back.
“We need to set some ground rules.”
She laughed without humor.
“Rules?
“Are you not thoroughly enjoying this?”
It remained impossible to read Damien's expression.
“ I don't like unnecessary complications, whether you like it or not.”
She rolled her eyes as she made a move to sit on the armrest of the couch
“Fine. Let’s hear them.”
Damien folded his arms, his gaze assessing.
“ Rule one: we are a perfect couple in public. There were no snide remarks, hesitation, or errors.”
She grumbled. "You mean I should behave like a well-trained pet in my role?"
He grinned. "I didn't say it; you did."
Helena remained silent despite clenching her fists.
Damien went on.
"Rule two: you will move into my home within the week."
She sat up straight.
“What? Absolutely not.”
“This engagement has to look real, Helena,” he said smoothly. "No one will be persuaded by living separately."
She shot him a glare.
“So now you get to dictate where I live?”
Damien tilted his head.
“When you agreed to this arrangement, you made your choice. Did you really think you’d get to keep your old life?”
Her jaw clenched, but she said nothing.
“Rule three: he continued, stepping closer, “stay away from Christopher Langford.”
Helena laughed.
"Jealousy doesn't look good on you."
Damien’s eyes darkened.
“ This has nothing to do with lust. Langford isn’t as charming as he pretends to be.”
“And you are?”
His mouth moved. “I never claimed to be.”
Helena stared at him for a long time before getting up.
"Any other questions, Your Highness?" Damien's grin went away. “Just one more thing.”
His presence choked as he got closer.
“Helena, you may despise me, but keep in mind who controls this place.”
“If you push me too far, you won't like the results.”
Helena didn't turn her head despite her beating heart.
"Damien, threats won't make me fear you.”
His lips started to smirk slowly. “We’ll see.”
The following week was full of media appearances, wedding preparations, and silent conflicts. Helena discovered that when she went to luncheons with socialites, got fitted for designer gowns, and dressed up, she looked like the ideal bride-to-be. Her suitcases were arranged in a row beside her as she stood in the penthouse doorway at this point.
Damien exclaimed, his tone amused.
"Welcome home."
He got a tight smile from Helena.
“Avoid getting too accustomed to it. It won't last long.” He pointed to the high flight of stairs.
"Up there is your bedroom”.
Right-hand door number three. She lowered her pupils.
"And yours as well?" He smiled.
"Wouldn't knowing be nice?"
Helena rolled her eyes as she took her suitcase. She didn't want to have a house party with him.
The room measured more than the average room, Helena took in a really long breath as she entered. The room has a balcony. The view is of the city skyline - tall windows stretching from floor to ceiling, and all the finishing was done in an elegant way to further beckon the wow factor of the sight. The sight literally stole her breath away.
However, she did not feel at home in any of it. She was still incarcerated. When the doorbell rang, she became stiff. "What follows?"
As the door opened just a little, Damien leaned against the frame. "Dinner will be ready in an hour."
She raised one eyebrow. "Do you think I'll join you for dinner?" He grinned.
"You now reside here. Get accustomed to it.
She was filled with anger as she watched him leave. This was not simply an engagement; it was a war. Additionally, she opposed losing.
Helena went to the dining room an hour later, half expecting a grand, extravagant meal. Instead, she discovered Damien eating a straightforward steak and vegetables meal at the long dining table in front of him. She was hesitant.
"Do you actually consume regular food?" He chuckled. "What were you expecting? A banquet fit for royalty?
She took a seat opposite him.
“Something dramatic would’ve suited you.”
He grinned, but he did not respond.
As they ate, there was silence between them. Helena hated how comfortable Damien seemed, how easily he moved through this arrangement while she felt like she was drowning.
He finally said, "You’re quiet tonight."
She dug a hole in her food with her fork.
"Not a lot to say." While observing her, Damien took a sip of his wine. "Are you already making plans for your escape?"
He caught Helena's eye. And if I am, then? His smirk was deliberate and slow. “You won’t get far.”
She hated how confident he was. hated the fact that he probably was right. "Do you really believe that you are in control of everything, don't you?" She inquired.
In his chair, Damien sat back. Helena, "I don't think so. I know.”
Her hands twisted around her glass of wine. Wolfe: "Enjoy your victory while it lasts." Dark and low, Damien laughed. "I'm going to."
The tension crackled between them, neither willing to back down.
This was just the start.
- Writer
