Rules and Promises
869 Words
The morning sunlight poured through the tall windows like gold, catching the edges of the marble floors and the empty spaces her father used to fill.
Maya stood by the railing of the grand staircase, clutching a cup of coffee she hadn’t touched. Below her, Ethan’s voice echoed faintly as he spoke with someone on the phone deep, controlled, commanding.
She didn’t mean to listen, but every word felt magnetic.
“No, I said not this week,” he said, his tone firm. “I have responsibilities here.”
A pause.
Then quieter, almost to himself “She’s not ready to be left alone yet.”
Maya’s grip tightened on the cup. She hated the way those words made her chest twist like she was a child, not a woman standing in the house her father left behind.
When Ethan ended the call, she descended the stairs. He turned just as she reached the last step.
“You’re up early,” he said, eyes flicking over her the oversized shirt, bare legs, messy hair. His jaw clenched subtly, but his tone stayed neutral. “You should eat something.”
“I’m not hungry,” she said, echoing last night’s line on purpose.
Ethan gave a quiet, humorless laugh. “We’ve already been over that.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t like being told what to do.”
He walked toward her, slow and deliberate, until the space between them felt too small. “Then maybe someone should have told you what happens when you ignore rules.”
Her pulse jumped. “What rules?”
He studied her for a long moment the kind of gaze that saw too much. Then he stepped back, voice turning calm again. “Come to my study after breakfast. We’ll talk.”
The words sounded harmless. But the look in his eyes said otherwise.
The study smelled like leather, books, and him.
Ethan sat behind the heavy oak desk, sleeves rolled to his elbows, glasses perched low on his nose as he read something on his laptop. The sight did something strange to her something she didn’t want to name.
He looked up when she entered. “Close the door.”
She did. The soft click felt final, sealing her in with him.
“Maya,” he began, leaning back in his chair. “There are a few things we need to be clear about if you’re staying here.”
Her arms crossed. “Like what? You’re not my father, Ethan.”
His jaw tightened. “No. But this house has rules.”
He lifted a page from the desk and began listing them. “One — no going out after nine. Two — you tell me where you’re going and who you’re with. Three no strangers in the house. Four — don’t come into my office without permission.”
She raised a brow. “Are you serious?”
He didn’t flinch. “Completely.”
She laughed softly. “You’re treating me like a child.”
“I’m treating you like someone who doesn’t understand how dangerous this world can be.”
“Or maybe you just like control,” she countered.
His eyes locked on hers calm, unreadable, but with something dark underneath. “Control keeps people alive.”
She took a slow step toward the desk. “Or it keeps them from feeling anything real.”
Something in his expression cracked just slightly but enough for her to see it.
“Maya,” he said, her name rougher than before. “You’re crossing a line.”
“Maybe I want to.”
The silence stretched. The tension between them felt like heat building under the skin invisible but impossible to ignore.
He rose from the chair, every movement slow, deliberate. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
She looked up at him. “Then teach me.”
He froze. The words hung in the air like a live wire.
For a second, it looked like he might actually touch her his hand hovered near her face then he dropped it, stepping back fast as if burned.
“This is exactly why there are rules,” he said harshly.
Her throat tightened. “You’re scared.”
His voice dropped. “I’m not scared of you.”
“Then what are you scared of?”
He didn’t answer. His silence said enough.
When she turned to leave, his voice followed her — low, steady, almost broken.
“Don’t test me, Maya. You won’t like how I respond.”
That night, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet except for the faint sound of his footsteps pacing the hall below.
Every word he’d said replayed in her mind — every rule, every warning, every look that said more than he ever would.
She couldn’t tell if he was trying to protect her… or protect himself from her.
Either way, she was done following rules she didn’t believe in.
Maya turned on her side, a slow, defiant smile ghosting her lips.
If he wanted control, she’d give him chaos.
The next morning, Ethan finds one of his “rules” deliberately broken and his calm, self-control begins to fracture.
- Writer
