RULES ARE MEANT TO BE BENT
1115 Words
Liana didn’t expect to find Darius in the kitchen the next morning.
He stood barefoot in gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt, stirring something in a copper pot like he did it every day. The sharp, icy CEO was gone. This man looked almost… normal.
She leaned against the doorway. “Is this some new power move? Cooking breakfast to confuse your fake wife?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “I needed coffee. The cook’s off today.”
“And the pancakes?”
He slid a plate toward her. “Are a byproduct of insomnia.”
She blinked. “You don’t sleep?”
“Not often.”
She didn’t ask why. She sat instead, watching as he moved through the kitchen with unexpected ease. There was something about it—the ordinary hum of morning, the smell of cinnamon, the low hiss of a stovetop—that made everything feel less artificial.
“This doesn’t fit the version of you I met at the hotel,” she said after a bite. “The cold one with contracts and non-negotiable terms.”
“People are good at being versions of themselves,” he said. “It’s how they survive.”
Liana pushed her plate back. “That sounds… lonely.”
He looked at her then. Not through her. At her. “It is.”
⸻
Later that day, Darius’s assistant texted her a schedule. Public outings. A charity brunch. A business dinner in two nights. Liana hated how choreographed her life was already becoming, how little room there was to just exist.
But she didn’t complain. This was the deal.
Still, something shifted after breakfast. Darius wasn’t warm—but he wasn’t ice either. When she passed him in the hallway, he nodded. When she commented on the headlines in his paper, he replied instead of ignoring her.
The distance between them began to shrink by inches, not miles.
⸻
Two nights later, they arrived at the business dinner, hosted by one of Darius’s board members. The restaurant was built inside a renovated warehouse, all exposed brick and iron chandeliers.
Darius held out his hand for her as they stepped out of the car.
“You remember the story?” he asked quietly.
“How we met? You mean the one where I insulted your tie?”
His mouth twitched. “Don’t forget the part where you made me laugh.”
“You didn’t laugh.”
“Exactly. That’s why it’s memorable.”
She slipped her hand into his, and he pulled her close. “Tonight is optics. Nothing more. You don’t need to speak unless spoken to.”
Liana arched a brow. “So just be a pretty prop?”
His eyes locked on hers. “No. Be sharp. Be unexpected. That’s when they underestimate you.”
They entered the room in sync.
But the second they sat, things went sideways.
Across the table sat a woman. Blonde. Stunning. Ice-blue eyes locked onto Darius like a predator sighting old prey.
“Darius,” she said with a tilt of her head. “I didn’t believe the rumors until now.”
Darius’s jaw tightened. “Catherine.”
Ah. So this was a story Liana hadn’t been told.
“And this must be the wife,” Catherine said smoothly, extending a hand toward Liana. “I’m an old friend.”
“Liana,” she replied, shaking it. “New wife. Zero context.”
Catherine laughed, but her eyes were cold. “Well, I hope you last longer than the rest.”
Liana could feel Darius stiffen beside her.
She smiled sweetly. “I’m persistent. And stubborn.”
“Dangerous combination.”
“Exactly what he needs,” Liana replied.
The rest of dinner was a chessboard. Catherine needled. Liana parried. Darius said little—but the tension was sharp enough to slice filet mignon.
After dinner, as they waited for the valet, Liana turned to him.
“Ex-girlfriend?”
“Ex-fiancée.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You really skipped the warm-up round with me, huh?”
“She tried to blackmail my company after I ended it. Leaked documents. Nearly cost us an entire deal.”
“And she’s still allowed to eat dinner with your board?”
He looked at her. “When people have power, they’re rarely removed. Just repositioned.”
Liana studied him. “That’s what you’re doing with me, isn’t it? Repositioning.”
His jaw flexed. “It’s what I was doing.”
She frowned. “Was?”
Darius looked at her, and for the first time, she saw it—uncertainty. Doubt. Something real under the control.
Then he said, “You handled her better than I ever did.”
And before she could say anything, the car pulled up, and the moment was gone.
⸻
Back at the house, Liana poured a glass of wine and stepped out onto the balcony. The city buzzed below. Up here, it felt like another world.
She didn’t hear him until he spoke.
“Why did you agree to this?”
She turned. Darius stood just behind her, no tie, sleeves rolled up, eyes unreadable.
“You offered me a way out,” she said. “Debt. Rent. My sister’s medical bills. You made it simple.”
“But it’s not simple.”
“No,” she said quietly. “It’s not.”
He stepped closer. The air between them shifted, heavy with something unsaid.
“You’re not what I expected,” he admitted.
“And you’re exactly what I expected,” she said.
That earned her a half-smile. “Cold?”
“Controlled. Caged.”
His smile faded.
She took a breath. “You hide behind logic, contracts, strategies. But I think underneath all that… you’re angry. And maybe a little lost.”
The silence stretched between them. Then Darius said something she never thought she’d hear.
“I was engaged once because it made sense. My father’s company was at risk. Catherine’s family could save it. So I made the ‘right’ decision.”
“And she tried to destroy you.”
“She did what people do when they realize they were never wanted for the right reasons.”
Liana swallowed hard. “And me? Am I the next right decision?”
He stepped closer. “You were the mistake I needed.”
Their eyes locked. The tension crackled.
But instead of closing the distance, Darius said, “Goodnight, Liana,” and walked away.
⸻
She stayed on the balcony long after he left.
Because for the first time since this whole charade began, she wasn’t sure where the lie ended—and where the truth was beginning to slip in.
- Writer
