9
1682 Words
Dante’s POV
The moment she jumps on me, I feel my heart slam against my chest. I’m not exactly a fan of surprises, especially the kind that leave me gasping for air. I sit up, my body stiff with confusion, as she slides down with that ridiculously smug grin on her face.
“What was that for?” I can’t help but ask, my voice thick with irritation.
She just shrugs, not a care in the world. I swear, she acts like she hasn’t just knocked the wind out of me.
“I need to sleep,” I mutter, a part of me almost pleading, though I know better than to show that side. But God, I’m exhausted. After everything today, the last thing I need is to be dragged into her drama.
She raises an eyebrow. “Please?” She asks, her voice a challenge. And then, just like that, her hand lands on mine.
I jerk my hand away like her touch burned me, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts. It takes everything in me not to explode at her. What is it with this woman? She’s like a tornado in human form.
“Please,” I say again, this time my tone clipped. I lay back down, hoping she’ll get the hint and finally leave me alone.
But no. Of course not. “I didn’t ask you to sleep yet,” she announces, springing up from the bed like a damn kangaroo, dragging me with her. She’s relentless, bouncing off walls as if she doesn’t have a single ounce of grace in her.
I blink at her in confusion, trying to figure out why she’s so… well, her. Is this what she does for a living? She must be on some kind of caffeine-induced high.
I should’ve asked about her job before agreeing to all this. If she doesn’t work, she’s gonna be a liability. Helping her parents is hard enough, but this? This is insanity.
“We need to sign the contract first,” she says, and just when I think she might actually get to the point, she pauses. Like she’s suddenly realized we need to do something else before she lets me get any sleep.
I groan internally. I didn’t want to sign the damn contract until after the vows. But whatever. I’m too far in now.
I remember that I haven’t written down the rules yet like I promised her. At least I can keep that part of the deal.
I stand and walk over to the drawer, unlocking it with the key that was sitting on top. Inside, I find the envelope containing the contract—my lawyer’s version. He’s thorough, and I trust him not to spill anything to my family or hers.
I’m doing her a favor, whether she realizes it or not.
“We should sign it already,” I mutter, reaching for the pen I’ve kept in the drawer. The paperwork isn’t going to sign itself, and honestly, I’m ready to be done with this farce.
I look up and find her staring at me, her face an unreadable mask.
If only she could stay this quiet all the time, maybe I wouldn’t feel like I’m losing my damn mind. But of course, that’s not how it works.
She stays silent for a beat longer before she opens her mouth, “The rules. Are they in the contract?”
I shake my head. “No. Not exactly. There’s a general outline, but I still need to add my own rules.”
She snatches the envelope from my hands, almost yanking it out of my grip, and flops down next to me on the bed. The contract spills out, papers scattering across the surface. She gathers them up with an efficiency that makes me wonder if she’s planning to use them as a weapon.
“Okay, let’s hear them,” she says, and I can hear the challenge in her voice.
I sigh, rubbing my face in exasperation. “You’re sure you want to hear these?”
She just stares at me, a mix of curiosity and annoyance. “Yes, let’s get it over with.”
I give her a look—one that says I’m not exactly thrilled with what I’m about to do.
I start listing the rules, but I don’t get far before she interrupts.
“Can you write them down?” she demands, and I almost snap. The nerve of this woman. It takes everything in me not to shout back.
I get up without a word and grab a sheet of paper from the drawer, shutting it quickly so she doesn’t get any ideas. I want to do this without her hovering over my shoulder, second-guessing every damn word.
I sit back on the bed and make myself comfortable, but she’s still watching me closely. I know she’s itching to see what I’m writing, but I’m not about to give her that satisfaction.
After a few minutes, I hand her the paper. Her eyes scan the list, and I wait for her to react.
“What? Twenty rules?” she says in disbelief.
“Yes,” I reply smoothly. “There’s room for more if necessary.”
She stares at me like I’ve just suggested we live in a bunker for the next two years.
“Is this some sort of partnership?” She snaps, clearly frustrated.
“Technically, it is,” I say, letting the word linger in the air. “Now, read them.”
She glares at me, but to my surprise, she actually reads them out loud.
“First: No strings attached,” she mutters, nodding.
“Second: Do not be touchy with me.” She pauses, her eyes narrowing. “What? Am I touchy?” she asks, genuinely baffled.
“Yes,” I reply without missing a beat. “You are.”
She huffs, but keeps reading.
“Third: This contract lasts for 24 months.” She nods. “Fourth: No lies. Be honest.”
“Fifth: No termination from you,” she reads, her tone colder now.
I watch her carefully. There’s something about the way she’s reading this—like she’s starting to realize how much control I have here.
“Sixth: I’m the only one allowed to sleep in the master bedroom. We’re not sharing a bed.”
At this, she stops reading and looks up at me, a smile tugging at her lips.
“What’s that smile for?” I demand, already on edge.
“What smile?” she asks innocently, though I know damn well what’s going on.
“The one when you read rule six. Are you agreeing with me or not?”
She grins, then shakes her head. “Disagreement.”
I’m stunned. “Disagreement?”
“Yeah, I’m not agreeing to that rule.”
I narrow my eyes at her, already feeling my patience thinning. “You’re just going to ignore the fact that you agreed to let me make the rules?”
She crosses her arms defiantly. “I agreed to you making the rules, not to being treated like a damn servant.”
“Servant?” I bark, the word stinging.
“Yes! Servant!” She stands up, tossing the paper in my face. “These rules are ridiculous, Dante! Except for the first and third, maybe. But the rest? Forget it.”
Her voice rises, and I can feel my anger bubbling over. “Shut up!” I roar, my fists clenching.
She stares me down. “You can yell all you want, but I’m not signing until these rules are revised.”
“Fine!” I snap, but my anger doesn’t subside. “You won’t sign it? Fine. We’ll stay stuck with each other forever, then.”
And then, she does something I’m not prepared for.
She laughs.
Not a cute little giggle, but a full-blown laugh like she’s lost her damn mind. She throws her head back, clapping her hands like she’s watching a comedy show.
“What the hell is so funny?” I growl, but it’s too late.
She leans into my chest, poking me with her finger. “You need me more than I need you. I could call your mother right now, and trust me, you won’t like the lies I’m going to tell her.”
“What?” I snap. My blood runs cold.
“Oh yeah,” she says with a wicked grin. “I’ll revise the rules. And I’ll have a say in this contract. Not just you.”
I can’t contain my rage anymore. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
She steps forward, unflinching. “Who do you think you are? Some billionaire who can boss me around? No, Dante. You’re just a selfish, arrogant jerk. And you’ll revise those rules, or I’ll make your life hell.”
I want to tear my hair out, but I take a breath. I pace the room, trying to calm my frayed nerves. She’s pushing all my buttons, and I know it’s a battle I’m not going to win if I don’t play my cards carefully.
But before I can speak, she lands the final blow.
“Now I know,” she says with a snide grin, “you’re not just an arrogant jerk. You’re also selfish and a narcissist.”
The words cut deeper than I care to admit. I take a step toward her, but before I can get close, she does the unthinkable.
She shoves me.
With the force of someone who’s been holding back for too long, she pushes me hard, sending me stumbling backward. I barely catch my balance before I’m thrown out of the room and into the hallway.
I’m still reeling from the shock when the door slams shut in my face, and I hear the unmistakable sound
of her laughter echoing from inside the room.
My jaw clenches in frustration.
She’s not just a pain in the ass. She’s a hurricane.
And I’m not sure I’m ready to be swept away.
- Writer
