The contract was signed. The ink had dried. And yet, as Arianna sat in the leather seat of Damien's sleek black car, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had just stepped into a trap.
The city lights flashed past the tinted windows, blurring into streaks of gold and white. Damien sat beside her, his profile illuminated in fragments by the passing glow of streetlamps. He hadn't spoken a word since they left his office, and the silence was starting to press on her nerves.
Finally, he broke it."Before you make yourself too comfortable," he said without looking at her, "we need to be clear about the rules."
Arianna turned to face him. "Rules?"
He glanced at her briefly, then returned his gaze to the road. "Three of them. Simple enough that even you won't forget."
Her jaw tightened. "I'm not a child, Damien."
"Good," he said flatly. "Then you'll understand the importance of boundaries."
They pulled into the underground parking of an upscale high-rise. Damien stepped out first, the valet rushing to greet him, but Arianna stayed seated for a moment longer, her pulse quickening. Rules. Boundaries. This was already starting to feel less like a marriage and more like a cage.
When they reached the penthouse, Damien led her to the living room a sprawling space of marble floors and towering glass walls that looked out over the glittering skyline. He gestured toward the sofa.
"Sit."
Something in his tone made her obey without question.
He poured himself a drink before sitting across from her, his posture precise, his expression unreadable. "Rule one," he began, his voice smooth but firm, "You do not interfere in my business. Ever. No questions, no involvement. My work and my private dealings are mine alone."
Arianna lifted her chin. "And if I see something I'm not supposed to?"
"Then you'll pretend you didn't," he said without hesitation.
Her stomach twisted, but she nodded once.
"Rule two," Damien continued, setting his glass down, "You will maintain appearances at all times. In public, we are a devoted married couple. You'll smile, stand by my side, and keep the media and my associates convinced that this marriage is real. Whatever you think of me in private stays between us."
She crossed her arms. "So basically, I'm here to play the perfect wife."
He gave a faint, cold smile. "Exactly. And you'll play it well."
The words scraped against her pride, but she held her tongue.
Damien leaned forward then, his gaze locking onto hers with the weight of a challenge. "Rule three," he said, each word deliberate, "You do not under any circumstances fall in love with me."
Arianna blinked. She hadn't expected that. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Damien said. "This is a contractual arrangement, not a romance. Keep your heart out of it, and we'll have no problems."
Her pulse kicked up, a mix of indignation and disbelief. "You really think I'd fall in love with you?"
A shadow of something amusement? flickered in his eyes. "You'd be surprised."
Arianna let out a sharp breath. "You're unbelievable."
"Unbelievable… and clear," Damien replied, standing as though the conversation was over. "I don't repeat myself, Arianna. Those are the rules. You follow them, and we'll get through the year without incident."
"And if I don't?"
He turned back to her, his expression sharpening. "Then this marriage will become far less pleasant than it already is."
Later that night, as she lay in the unfamiliar luxury of the guest bedroom her bedroom, though it felt more like a gilded cage Arianna stared at the ceiling.
Rule one: Stay out of his business.Rule two: Be the perfect wife in public.Rule three: Don't fall in love with him.
It was the third one that unsettled her the most. Why make such a rule unless there was a reason something buried in his past that he didn't want touched?
She rolled onto her side, pulling the silk sheets up to her chin. She told herself she didn't care. That she would keep her distance and count down the days until the year was over.
But deep down, she knew rules had a way of being broken.
Arianna didn't sleep right away. The city beyond the glass walls shimmered like a thousand secrets waiting to be uncovered, each one daring her to break the rules Damien had set. She could still hear his voice calm, controlled, and infuriatingly sure of himself echoing in her mind.
Don't fall in love with me.
She pressed her lips together. It was absurd, insulting even, that he would think she might be so easily swayed. Yet, there was something about the way he'd said it like it wasn't a warning, but a command forged from experience.
A faint knock on her door broke her thoughts.
"Come in," she called.
Olivia stepped inside, holding a slim black folder. "Mr. Cross asked me to give you this."
Arianna took it, flipping it open. Inside was a detailed schedule dinners, charity events, business galas all neatly planned for the next three months. Every date came with instructions: arrival times, dress codes, media briefings.
"This looks like a job description," Arianna muttered.
"In a way, it is," Olivia said, her professional smile never faltering. "He prefers precision. You'll find things… easier if you adapt quickly."
"And if I don't?" Arianna asked, her eyes narrowing.
Olivia hesitated for the briefest moment. "Then you won't last long."
After Olivia left, Arianna placed the folder on the nightstand. She lay back against the pillows, the silk fabric cool against her skin, but her mind refused to settle. Damien's rules weren't just about control they were a test. A line drawn in the sand.
The first two rules were clear enough, even if they chafed against her independence. But the third… that was personal.
Maybe it was arrogance. Maybe it was protection. Or maybe, just maybe, Damien Cross had been burned before.
Morning came too soon. Arianna found Damien already in the kitchen, his shirt sleeves rolled up, a mug of coffee in one hand while he scanned a news article on his tablet.
"You have a meeting with the charity board this afternoon," he said without looking at her. "They'll want to meet the new Mrs. Cross before the gala."
She poured herself coffee. "And I'm guessing smiling and nodding is part of the role?"
"It's all of the role," Damien replied evenly. Then, lowering the tablet, he added, "Remember the rules, Arianna. Especially the last one."
She met his gaze over the rim of her cup. "You really think I'm going to be that easy to read?"
Damien's lips curved in something that wasn't quite a smile. "I think you're already trying to figure me out. That's the first step to breaking the rule."
Arianna didn't answer. She just turned away, but his words followed her like a shadow.
By the time she was dressed and ready to leave for the meeting, Arianna had made a silent promise to herself: she would play by Damien's rules for now. But rules were made to be bent, and sooner or later, she intended to find out why the third one mattered so much to him.
And if she had to break it to learn the truth… so be it.