Chapter 3The Rules of Marriage
1719 Words
Amara could not sleep.
Again.
The grandfather clock downstairs struck three in the morning while moonlight spilled through her bedroom curtains, painting silver lines across the floor.
One week.
Only one week until she marries Kael Laurent.
The thought alone made her chest tighten.
She sat cross-legged on her bed with the protection agreement still spread open in front of her. She had read every line at least ten times already.
Financial independence.
Personal security.
Ownership of a penthouse in Dubai.
Access to private accounts.
None of it made sense.
Men like Kael Laurent did not give women freedom.
Men like him controlled them.
Yet every line in the document seemed designed to protect her instead.
Why?
That question haunted her more than his cold stare ever could.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
Before she could answer, the door creaked open slightly.
Selena entered quietly.
Amara instantly frowned. “What do you want?”
For once, Selena didn’t look arrogant.
She looked nervous.
“I came to warn you.”
Suspicion rose immediately. “Warn me about what?”
Selena closed the door behind her before speaking again.
“You need to be careful around Kael.”
Amara stared at her.
“You hated me yesterday.”
“I still do.”
“Well… honest at least.”
Selena ignored the comment and moved closer.
“You think this marriage makes you lucky?” she whispered. “You have no idea what kind of world you’re walking into.”
Amara folded her arms. “Then explain it.”
Selena hesitated.
For the first time in years, she actually looked uncertain.
“My friend dated one of his business partners in Dubai,” she said quietly. “She told me things.”
“What things?”
“That people disappear around him.”
A cold feeling slid through Amara’s stomach again.
“He’s connected to dangerous men. Politicians. Criminals. Billionaires.” Selena lowered her voice further. “There are rumors he controls entire companies through fear.”
Amara remembered the calm expression on Kael’s face when he admitted his former fiancée had disappeared.
“He doesn’t even look human sometimes,” Selena continued. “It’s like he feels nothing.”
Amara stayed silent.
Because part of her agreed.
Kael carried himself like a man who had buried every soft emotion years ago.
Then Selena surprised her again.
“If he hurts you…” she said carefully, “you should run.”
Amara blinked.
The concern sounded almost genuine.
Before she could respond, Selena’s mask returned instantly.
“Not because I care,” she added quickly. “I just don’t want blood in this house.”
Then she turned and left.
Amara stared at the closed door long after she disappeared.
Nothing about this situation felt real anymore.
The next morning, the mansion exploded into chaos.
Wedding planners arrived before sunrise.
Designers carried expensive dresses upstairs.
Florists filled every room with white roses.
Servants rushed through the halls carrying decorations and fabrics.
It felt less like preparing for a marriage and more like preparing for a royal ceremony.
Amara stood silently near the upstairs railing, watching strangers transform the house around her.
“You should smile more,” Aunt Lydia snapped while passing by. “You’re about to marry a billionaire.”
Amara looked at her slowly.
“Would you smile if you were being sold?”
Aunt Lydia’s expression darkened immediately.
“Watch your tone.”
“No,” Amara replied quietly. “I’m tired of watching my tone.”
Shock flashed across Aunt Lydia’s face.
Amara was almost surprised herself too.
Maybe Kael was right.
Maybe she was braver than she realized.
Before Aunt Lydia could respond, a servant hurried toward them nervously.
“Mr. Laurent has arrived.”
Amara’s heartbeat stumbled.
Again?
Why was he here already?
Aunt Lydia immediately straightened her clothes before rushing downstairs.
Amara remained frozen for several seconds before forcing herself to follow.
She found Kael standing in the living room wearing another black suit, looking as intimidating and untouchable as ever.
Yet today something felt different.
He looked irritated.
Dangerously irritated.
Uncle Raymond stood nearby speaking rapidly.
“…completely unexpected,” her uncle was saying nervously. “But we can resolve the issue quickly.”
“What issue?” Amara asked while stepping into the room.
Everyone turned toward her.
Kael’s gaze immediately locked onto hers.
“The guest list leaked,” he said calmly.
Confusion crossed her face. “So?”
“So now the press knows about the wedding.”
“And that’s bad?”
Kael walked toward her slowly.
“Yes.”
The single word carried enough weight to silence the room.
Amara frowned. “Why would the media care this much?”
Kael stopped directly in front of her.
“Because powerful people are suddenly interested in you.”
Fear curled softly around her spine again.
“Why?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“Someone has been searching for your mother’s records.”
The room spun for a second.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I’m trying to find out.”
Uncle Raymond suddenly interrupted too quickly. “Surely this is unrelated”
“It’s related,” Kael said coldly without looking at him.
Silence fell instantly.
Amara noticed something then.
Her uncle looked afraid.
Not nervous.
Afraid.
Kael reached into his pocket and handed Amara a small black card.
“What’s this?”
“My private number.”
Aunt Lydia nearly choked in surprise.
Kael ignored her reaction completely.
“If anything feels wrong, you contact me immediately.”
Amara stared down at the card.
“You think I’m in danger already?”
“I think you’ve been in danger longer than you realize.”
The words settled heavily inside her chest.
Kael suddenly turned toward the staircase.
“Come with me.”
Her brows furrowed. “Where?”
“You need to learn the rules before this marriage happens.”
An hour later, Amara sat inside the backseat of Kael’s black luxury car speeding through Accra.
The city blurred outside the tinted windows.
Kael sat across from her, calm and unreadable as always.
Neither of them spoke for several minutes.
The silence became unbearable.
“Where are we going?” she finally asked.
“My temporary residence.”
“That sounds mysterious.”
“It’s a hotel.”
Amara looked away toward the window again.
Even his simple answers somehow sounded dangerous.
When the car finally stopped, Amara stared upward in shock.
The building towered above the city like glass and gold touching the sky.
Luxury cars lined the entrance.
Security guards stood everywhere.
People moved instantly aside the moment Kael stepped out of the vehicle.
Power followed him naturally.
Inside, the hotel looked even more unreal.
Crystal chandeliers.
Marble floors.
Golden lighting.
Soft piano music echoes through the enormous lobby.
Employees lowered their heads respectfully as Kael walked past.
Nobody dared stop him.
Amara followed closely beside him, trying not to look overwhelmed.
“You own this place?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Of course you do.”
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
That tiny almost-smile shocked her more than anything else.
Kael led her into a private elevator requiring fingerprint access.
The doors closed quietly around them.
Suddenly the space felt very small.
Very private.
Amara became painfully aware of how close he stood.
Kael noticed her tension immediately.
“You’re uncomfortable around me.”
“You notice everything.”
“Yes.”
The elevator stopped at the top floor.
The doors opened into an enormous penthouse overlooking the city skyline.
Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed breathtaking views of Accra below.
The entire place looked expensive enough to belong in magazines.
Amara stepped inside slowly.
“This is insane.”
Kael removed his suit jacket casually.
“You’ll move into the Dubai residence after the wedding.”
She turned toward him sharply.
“So it’s true.”
“What is?”
“I’m really leaving Ghana.”
Something unreadable crossed his face.
“Yes.”
The reality hit her differently now.
This wasn’t temporary.
Her entire life was about to disappear.
Kael walked toward the bar area and poured himself a drink.
“You said there were rules,” Amara reminded him quietly.
He nodded once.
“Yes.”
Then his expression became serious again.
“Rule one,” he said calmly. “Never trust anyone simply because they smile at you.”
Amara frowned slightly.
“That’s oddly specific.”
“It’s necessary.”
He took a slow sip before continuing.
“Rule two. Never discuss private matters with the press.”
“You really think reporters care about me?”
“They do now.”
Kael’s gaze sharpened.
“Rule three,” he continued. “If I tell you to leave somewhere immediately, you listen without arguing.”
Fear brushed against her chest.
“You say things like danger follows you everywhere.”
“It does.”
The honesty in his voice unsettled her.
Amara crossed her arms slowly.
“And what exactly am I getting into by marrying you?”
For the first time since meeting him, Kael looked tired.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Like a man carrying something unbearably heavy.
“My world is not gentle, Amara.”
Her breath caught softly at the sound of her name on his lips.
“There are people who would hurt you just to reach me,” he continued quietly. “And others who would hurt you because of who your mother was.”
She stared at him.
“You keep talking about my mother like she was part of something dangerous.”
“She was.”
“Tell me the truth.”
Kael remained silent.
Frustration rose inside her chest again.
“You expect me to trust you while you hide everything!”
His eyes darkened instantly.
“I expect you to stay alive.”
The sharpness in his voice startled her into silence.
Kael inhaled slowly before calming himself.
Then he walked toward a locked drawer near his desk.
After a brief hesitation, he pulled out a photograph.
He handed it to her carefully.
Amara looked down.
And froze.
It was an old picture of her mother.
Standing beside a younger version of Kael Laurent.
- Writer
