Chapter 6: RULE NO 1
1247 Words
CHAPTER SIX:
Precellia's POV
Jordan's blue eyes remained fixed on mine.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Quieter.
Warmer.
My heartbeat pounded loudly inside my chest as he continued moving closer.
For a brief second, my mind completely stopped working.
I could feel the warmth of his presence.
The faint scent of soap lingered on his skin after his shower, making the space between us feel even narrower.
Then—
He reached past me.
Click.
The bedside lamp went off.
The room was swallowed instantly by darkness.
My eyes widened.
Heat rushed to my face as realization hit me.
He wasn't coming closer because of me.
He only wanted to switch off the lamp.
I quickly lowered my head, grateful the darkness hid my embarrassment.
Jordan moved to the other side of the bed and sat down.
The mattress dipped slightly beneath his weight.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then his calm voice broke the silence.
“Since we're married now, there are a few rules.”
Rules?
I immediately sat up straighter.
“Rule number one.”
His tone was firm, but not unkind.
“This bed is large enough for two people.”
I glanced at the huge king-sized bed.
He wasn't wrong.
It could probably fit more than two.
“You stay on your side,” he continued.
“And I'll stay on mine.”
“Okay,” I replied quickly.
“If possible, don't cross over to my side while sleeping.”
“Okay.”
“I value my personal space.”
“Okay.”
Silence.
Then he sighed lightly.
I frowned.
Did I say something wrong?
“What?” I asked softly.
“Do you always answer everything with that word?”
I blinked.
“What word?”
“Okay.”
For a second, I thought I heard something faint in his tone.
Amusement.
Very subtle.
My cheeks warmed.
“I don't know what else to say.”
The room fell quiet again.
Then I asked, almost hesitantly,
“What should I call you?”
Jordan turned slightly toward me.
“What?”
“You're my husband now,” I said, twisting the blanket nervously.
“I don't know what to call you.”
Silence stretched for a few seconds.
Then—
“When we're alone, call me Jordan.”
My heart skipped.
Just Jordan.
Not Mr. Bronks.
Not husband.
Just Jordan.
“Okay.”
“And when we're around others…”
His voice remained steady.
“Call me hubby.”
I almost choked.
Hubby.
It sounded far more intimate than husband.
Yet he said it like it meant nothing.
“It’s for appearances,” he added.
“Oh.”
That made sense.
At least a little.
“Good night".
His voice softened slightly.
Then he turned away.
The room fell silent again.
I lay still, staring into the dark ceiling.
Listening to the distant sounds of the estate.
Listening to his steady breathing on the other side of the bed.
And slowly…
My body relaxed without permission.
Sleep eventually pulled me under.
---
Warm.
That was the first thing I felt.
Warm.
Too warm.
I frowned slightly.
The room had been cold when I slept.
Slowly, I opened my eyes.
And froze.
My arm was wrapped around something solid.
Something definitely not a pillow.
My eyes widened.
Jordan.
I was hugging Jordan.
My body went rigid.
No.
No.
No.
Panic shot through me instantly.
And then—
I saw it.
Jordan was already awake.
His blue eyes were open.
And he was staring at me.
Expressionless.
My soul nearly left my body.
We didn't move.
Not even slightly.
Then he spoke.
“You are awake already?”
Calm.
Too calm.
As if this situation was normal.
I immediately pulled away and scrambled back.
“I…”
Nothing else came out.
Jordan sat up slowly.
Still expressionless.
Not angry.
Not surprised.
Not even annoyed.
And somehow, that made it worse.
I had broken his rule.
Rule number one.
Less than twelve hours ago.
Yet he said nothing about it.
He stood, stretched slightly, then walked into the bathroom without another word.
A few minutes later, he came out still in him pj's.
Picked up his phone.
And left.
Just like that.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Silence filled the room.
I buried my face in my hands.
“Oh my God.”
I had hugged him.
Actually hugged him.
Not accidentally.
Not briefly.
Properly.
How was I supposed to face him again?
---
After a while, I forced myself up.
That was when I finally noticed the room properly.
Luxury everywhere.
A massive king-sized bed.
Cream silk sheets.
Floor-to-ceiling windows pouring in golden light.
A crystal chandelier hanging like a jewel.
Everything looked expensive.
Everything looked like him.
I moved toward another door.
A walk-in closet.
Huge.
Perfectly organized.
Inside were my clothes—neatly arranged.
I smiled.
Mary had helped me carefully pack my clothes
A small comfort settled in my chest.
At least something from home was here.
Then—
My smile faded.
No suits.
No shirts.
No ties.
Nothing of Jordan’s.
I frowned.
Did he even keep clothes here?
Before I could think further—
Knock.
Knock.
“Young Madam?”
Several maids entered.
“Good morning, Young Madam.”
“Good morning,” I replied softly.
They moved quickly, preparing everything.
One selected clothes.
Another arranged accessories.
Another set up tea.
Too fast.
Too perfect.
Too controlled.
Then two more maids entered carrying boxes and shopping bags.
They placed them carefully on the bed.
“What’s this?” I asked.
The head maid smiled.
“A gift from your mother-in-law.”
My eyes widened slightly.
“From her?”
“She personally selected everything for you to wear today.”
I stepped closer.
They opened the box.
Inside was a breathtaking champagne-coloured off-shoulder dress.
It shimmered softly under the morning light.
Elegant.
Expensive.
Almost unreal.
The off-shoulder design exposed her collarbones beautifully, giving it a soft, royal elegance. The bodice hugged gently before flowing into a long, graceful skirt that moved like liquid silk. Subtle embroidery caught the light like scattered stardust, making the dress feel alive rather than fabric.
It didn't look like something ordinary.
It looked like something meant for royalty.
Inside were matching designer shoes, a handbag, and delicate jewelry.
My breath caught.
“She said you must look your best for your first family breakfast” the maid added.
I swallowed.
“Okay.”
Then voices filled the room again.
“You must hurry, Young Madam.”
“Today is your first breakfast as a Bronks.”
My stomach tightened.
Then—
“And your honeymoon begins in two days.”
My eyes widened.
“What?”
“It has already been arranged.”
No one told me.
Again.
Always after decisions were made.
Then I heard whispers.
“I feel bad for her…”
“Especially after what happened three years ago…”
My head snapped up.
“What happened three years ago?”
They froze instantly.
“Nothing, Young Madam.”
But I knew.
Something was wrong.
Before I could push further—
“It’s time,” the head maid said quickly.
---
A few minutes later, I stood before massive dining doors.
My hands were cold.
My heart was heavy.
Behind those doors was the Bronks family.
And a life I didn’t understand.
The doors opened.
Silence fell instantly.
Every eye turned toward me.
And I stepped into it.
- Writer
