His Rules, Not Mine

Elena didn't sleep.

She lay on the soft bed of the secret room, her heart racing, her mind spinning in endless circles.

Outside her door, she could hear him.

Adrian Knight.

Sitting there.

Guarding her.

Why?

Why did a man who treated her like property, who barely spoke, care whether she lived or died? Why did he drag her to a hidden room instead of leaving her in that massive glass cage of a bedroom?

She hated it.

She hated the confusion.

And more than anything, she hated the strange flutter in her stomach every time she remembered his voice.

"Because you'll be safe here."

Since when did safety come from the man she feared?

Since when did the thought of him sitting there make her feel… less alone?

She rolled over angrily, hugging the pillow tighter.

She needed answers.

She wasn't going to get them lying here.

Quietly, she slipped out of bed.

Her bare feet touched the cold floor.

She padded toward the door.

Carefully… slowly… she cracked it open.

Adrian sat right there, leaning back against the wall, one knee bent, eyes open.

He didn't even flinch.

"You should be asleep," he said calmly.

Elena froze.

"You weren't."

"I'm not the one running," he replied.

She glared. "I'm not running."

His dark eyes met hers. Unblinking.

"Not yet."

She hated how his voice slid under her skin.

"Why are you doing this?" she snapped. "Why pretend to care? I know I'm just a contract to you."

Adrian didn't respond right away.

Then he stood.

Her heart jumped.

He stepped toward her slowly, calmly, like a predator who knew his prey wouldn't escape.

Elena backed up instinctively as he entered the hidden room, his presence filling the small space, making her feel cornered even though he wasn't touching her.

"I don't pretend," he said softly.

She swallowed. "Then why?"

Adrian's gaze darkened.

"Because you're mine."

She sucked in a sharp breath.

"You can't keep saying that."

"Why not?" His voice dropped. "Do you belong to someone else?"

Her cheeks burned.

"Of course not."

"Exactly."

He moved closer.

Now she was trapped.

Completely.

Adrian stared down at her like he owned the air between them.

"You hate me. Good. Stay angry, Elena. But don't forget who you belong to."

She shook her head, voice shaking. "I belong to myself."

A flicker of something dangerous crossed his face.

"No."

Then, without warning, his hand reached out—gently—but she tensed as his fingers brushed against her cheek.

Not rough.

Not cruel.

Just a touch.

But her body reacted as if he'd branded her.

"Adrian…" she whispered.

His thumb traced her skin slowly, his eyes locked onto hers, as if memorizing the way she looked terrified.

"You'll learn soon," he said softly, "that I don't give things away once they're mine."

Her skin burned under his touch.

Her heart betrayed her by skipping beats.

And still, he didn't let go.

She hated how his coldness made her tremble.

But what terrified her even more… was how his touch made her melt.

Adrian leaned closer.

Close enough that she felt his breath.

Close enough that all it would take was one movement and—

He pulled back suddenly.

Like a man at war with himself.

His hand dropped.

Elena gasped for air she didn't realize she was holding.

Adrian's voice was colder now. Controlled.

"Get some sleep."

"Adrian—"

"Now."

Then, without another word, he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Leaving her standing there.

Shaking.

Burning.

Confused.

And breathless.

She slid down to the floor, pressing her hand against her racing heart.

What just happened?

Why did she want him to touch her again?

Why did she feel… disappointed… when he stopped?

---

Hours later, the sun hadn't yet risen, but Adrian Knight stood alone in his office, fists clenched, staring out at the endless city skyline.

What was happening to him?

He never touched her.

He wasn't supposed to.

She was supposed to be leverage.

Nothing more.

But when she'd looked up at him, defiant and scared… he'd felt something shatter inside his chest.

Weakness.

She made him weak.

And he hated it.

Because weakness had killed his mother.

And his father had taught him one lesson very clearly:

Never love what can be taken from you.

Adrian Knight didn't love.

Adrian Knight didn't protect.

Adrian Knight didn't care.

Until now.

He ran a hand over his face, growling softly.

She was just a girl.

A pawn.

A signature.

But for some reason…

When he touched her skin…

When she whispered his name…

He didn't feel like the predator anymore.

He felt like the prey.

And that terrified him.

Because Adrian Knight didn't lose.

To anyone.

Especially not to his wife.