Rules of This Marriage
1263 Words
I didn’t sleep.
Not properly.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it again,the room, the whispers, the way everything had collapsed in a matter of minutes.
And then him.
Standing there like he had already decided what my future would look like.
By the time morning came, I was already awake, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, trying to remind myself that this was real.
That I was here.
In his house.
His world.
A soft knock broke the silence.
“Miss Vance?”
I sat up slowly. “Yes?”
“The master asked that you come downstairs when you’re ready.”
The master.
The title alone told me everything I needed to know about how things worked here.
“I’ll be down shortly,” I replied.
A few minutes later, I stepped out of the room.
The hallway was just as polished and controlled as everything else,clean lines, quiet elegance, nothing out of place.
Nothing personal.
It felt… empty.
Like a place designed for power, not comfort.
I followed the stairs down, my steps slower than usual, my mind still catching up to everything that had happened.
He was already there.
Of course he was.
Seated at the dining table, a cup of coffee in front of him, completely at ease.
Like this was just another morning.
Like last night had meant nothing.
“You’re awake,” he said without looking up.
“I didn’t sleep much.”
“That’s expected.”
I frowned slightly, pulling out a chair across from him.
“You say that like you planned it.”
“I planned for disruption,” he corrected.
Of course he did.
I crossed my arms slightly. “Do you plan everything?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
No apology.
Just truth.
I let out a quiet breath, leaning back in my chair.
“Then let’s stop pretending this is normal,” I said. “If we’re doing this… this marriage, then we need to be clear.”
His gaze lifted to meet mine.
Finally.
Focused.
Sharp.
“Go on.”
I held his eyes, refusing to look away.
“This isn’t real,” I said. “Not in the way people think.”
“It’s legally real.”
“You know what I mean.”
A pause.
Then,
“Yes,” he said.
That surprised me.
I expected resistance.
Not agreement.
“We’re doing this for a reason,” I continued. “For reputation. For control. Whatever your goal is.”
“My goals aren’t your concern.”
Frustration flickered.
“They should be if I’m involved in them.”
“They will be,” he said calmly. “When necessary.”
That again.
Controlled information.
Carefully measured answers.
I leaned forward slightly. “Then let’s talk about what is my concern.”
He didn’t interrupt.
Didn’t stop me.
So I continued.
“I’m not going to pretend to be some obedient wife who follows you around and agrees with everything you say.”
“I didn’t expect you to.”
That threw me off.
Again.
“I’m serious,” I added.
“So am I.”
Silence stretched between us.
Then he spoke.
“You’ll have your space,” he said. “Your independence. As long as it doesn’t interfere with what needs to be maintained.”
“And what exactly needs to be maintained?”
“Our image.”
Of course.
I let out a quiet laugh.
“So we’re just… acting?”
“In public,” he said. “Yes.”
“And in private?”
His gaze held mine.
Unmoving.
“That depends.”
On what?
I didn’t ask.
Because something told me I wouldn’t like the answer.
“Fine,” I said after a moment. “Then here are my conditions.”
His brow lifted slightly, like he wasn’t used to being given terms.
But he didn’t stop me.
“I don’t lie for you,” I said. “If anyone asks me something directly, I won’t cover things up.”
“You won’t need to,” he replied.
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s not meant to be.”
I exhaled slowly.
“Second,I make my own decisions. About my life. My time. My choices.”
“As long as they don’t conflict with mine.”
“There it is.”
A small pause.
Then,
“Yes,” he said.
At least he was honest.
“And third,” I added, my voice quieter now, “you don’t control me.”
That one lingered.
He didn’t respond immediately.
Didn’t look away.
Just watched me.
Carefully.
“You misunderstand something,” he said finally.
My chest tightened slightly.
“And what’s that?”
“I don’t control you,” he said.
A pause.
“I control the situation.”
That shouldn’t have made a difference.
But somehow…
It did.
Because it meant I wasn’t the target.
Just part of the system he had built.
“That doesn’t make it better,” I said.
“It makes it accurate.”
Silence fell again.
Heavy.
Measured.
Real.
“This is insane,” I muttered under my breath.
“Yes.”
I blinked.
“You agree?”
“Completely.”
I stared at him, unsure whether to be annoyed or confused.
“Then why are you so calm about it?”
“Because it works.”
Of course.
Everything with him came down to that.
Efficiency.
Control.
Outcome.
I leaned back again, shaking my head slightly.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
Something about the way he said it made me pause.
Like there was more behind those words.
Something I didn’t understand yet.
“Then what are your rules?” I asked.
“If we’re doing this, it goes both ways.”
He studied me for a moment.
Then,
“You don’t leave without telling me.”
I frowned. “That sounds like control.”
“It’s security.”
“For who?”
“For you.”
That again.
Protection.
Wrapped in something that felt a little too close to restriction.
“And if I don’t agree?”
“Then I insist.”
My jaw tightened.
“You see the problem here?”
“I see your resistance,” he replied calmly.
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Yes.”
That caught me off guard.
“You are?”
“It means you’re thinking.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“So you want me to fight you?” I asked.
“I expect you to.”
Silence settled again.
But this time… it felt different.
Less suffocating.
More… balanced.
Not equal.
Not yet.
But shifting.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Yes.”
His gaze didn’t leave mine.
“In public, you stand beside me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“That’s everything.”
The weight of those words settled slowly.
Not behind him.
Not beneath him.
Beside him.
It sounded simple.
But it wasn’t.
Because standing beside someone like Adrian Hale…
Came with a cost.
“I think I’m starting to understand,” I said quietly.
“Good.”
I held his gaze for a moment longer.
Then looked away.
Because something about the way he watched me,
Felt like he was already figuring me out.
And I wasn’t sure I liked that.
But one thing was clear.
This wasn’t just a forced marriage anymore.
It was an agreement.
A dangerous one.
And somehow…
I had just agreed to play by his rules,
Without fully knowing the game.
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