Bound by Scandal

The Rules of the Game

The first light of dawn crept through the curtains, painting stripes of gold across the bedroom floor. Ava lay still, her body tangled in the silk sheets, her mind racing. The penthouse was silent, the city outside just beginning to stir. She rolled over, her fingers brushing against the empty space beside her. Liam’s side of the bed was untouched, the sheets smooth and cold.

Of course he hadn’t stayed.

She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and reached for her phone on the nightstand. Three missed calls from Mira. A text:

Mira: Call me. Now.

Ava’s fingers hovered over the screen. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to face the reality of what she’d done. But she dialed anyway, pressing the phone to her ear as she padded to the window. The city sprawled beneath her, indifferent to the storm raging inside her.

Mira answered on the first ring. “Ava. Finally. Are you okay?”

Ava exhaled, her breath fogging the glass. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to me.”

Ava’s fingers tightened around the phone. “I married him, Mira.”

Silence. Then, “I know.”

Ava’s throat tightened. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Mira’s voice softened. “Yes, you do. You’re surviving. And that’s enough for now.”

Ava closed her eyes, the weight of the ring on her finger a constant reminder of the vows she’d made. The vows she wasn’t sure she could keep.

The scent of coffee pulled her from her thoughts.

Ava turned, her gaze landing on the tray on the dresser—a steaming cup of coffee, a plate of buttered toast, and a single white rose. Her stomach twisted. Liam.

She crossed the room, her fingers brushing against the note tucked beneath the cup.

Ava,

Breakfast. Meet me in the study at 9.

—Liam

Ava’s chest tightened. It wasn’t a request. It was a command.

She glanced at the clock. 8:45.

She had fifteen minutes to prepare for whatever came next.

The study was all dark wood and leather, the scent of Liam’s cologne lingering in the air. Ava hesitated in the doorway, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her robe. Liam sat behind his desk, his broad frame dwarfing the chair, his gray eyes sharp as they lifted to hers.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice low.

Ava lifted her chin. “I didn’t know I was on a schedule.”

Liam’s smirk was slow, dangerous. “You are now.”

Ava’s pulse spiked, but she didn’t back down. Couldn’t. Because the truth was, she refused to let him see her fear.

Liam gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

Ava hesitated, then perched on the edge of the seat, her spine straight. “What’s this about?”

Liam leaned back, his gaze tracing her face like he was memorizing it. “Our marriage.”

Ava’s stomach twisted. “What about it?”

“We need to set some ground rules.”

Ava’s fingers curled into her palms. “I thought we already did.”

Liam’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes—amusement? Irritation? “Those were your rules. These are mine.”

Ava’s chest tightened. “I’m not a child, Liam. You don’t get to dictate my life.”

Liam’s voice dropped, rough and low. “You’re my wife. And you’re carrying my child. That makes your life mine.”

Ava’s breath hitched. “I won’t be controlled.”

Liam’s gaze darkened. “You already are.”

Ava wanted to argue. To tell him he was wrong, that she was still her own person, that she would never be his to command.

But the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing in the world worth having—made her pulse stutter.

Liam reached into his desk, pulling out a stack of papers. “This is a revised contract. It outlines my expectations for our marriage.”

Ava’s stomach dropped. “You’re joking.”

Liam’s expression was deadly serious. “I don’t joke, Ava.”

Ava’s fingers trembled as she took the papers, her gaze skimming the first page. Expectations for public appearances. Guidelines for behavior. Rules for their marriage.

She looked up, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “You can’t be serious.”

Liam’s jaw tightened. “I’m deadly serious.”

Ava’s fingers curled into fists. “I won’t sign this.”

Liam’s gaze didn’t waver. “You will.”

Ava’s chest heaved, her breath coming fast. “Or what? You’ll divorce me? Take the baby?”

Liam’s voice was calm, controlled. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect what’s mine.”

Ava’s vision blurred. “I’m not a thing, Liam. I’m not a possession.”

Liam’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. Not tight enough to hurt. Just tight enough to remind her who was in control. “You’re my wife. And you will obey me.”

Ava’s pulse roared in her ears. But she didn’t pull away. Couldn’t.

Because the truth was, she wasn’t sure she could handle the way he looked at her.

Like she was his.

Like she was everything.

Ava yanked her wrist from his grip, her voice low and fierce. “I won’t sign this, Liam. Not now. Not ever.”

Liam’s smirk was slow, dangerous. “We’ll see.”

Ava stood, her chair scraping against the floor. “I’m done here.”

Liam’s gaze darkened. “This isn’t over, Ava.”

Ava’s spine stiffened. “It is for now.”

She turned on her heel, striding toward the door with her head held high.

But as she stepped into the hallway, her body trembling, she knew the truth.

This was far from over.

And she wasn’t sure she wanted it to be.