Chapter 6 The Rules We Break

Celene sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, toes curled into the plush white carpet. She hadn't slept. Not because the bed wasn't soft-it was sin itself-but because her mind was louder than the silence.

Adrian had left after the kiss. Just... left. No words. No smirk. No smug farewell. And somehow, that made everything worse.

The man kissed like he was claiming territory, and then disappeared like it didn't cost him a breath.

Now it was morning. And she was still in his house. Wearing his silk. Surrounded by a world that didn't belong to her.

She rose, padded barefoot into the massive bathroom. Mirrors on every wall. Light that made her skin look flawless. *Or fake.*

A note waited on the counter in thick, bold handwriting:

"No schedule today. Make yourself at home. I'll find you later."

-A

She rolled her eyes. "Find me?" she muttered. "Like I'm some misplaced puppy?"

Still, she showered. Let the hot water scald the indecision from her skin. When she emerged, a new set of clothes had appeared on the bed. Cream silk blouse. Navy pencil skirt. No tags. Just hers now.

*He's always watching,* she thought. *Even when he's not.*

Downstairs, the kitchen looked like a high-end showroom. But someone had been there-coffee brewed, a slice of toast on a plate, avocado sliced to perfection. Celene blinked. *Was he trained in seduction or servitude?*

The man was impossible to read. Cold and calculating one second, tender the next. She hated it. She hated that it thrilled her.

She ate in silence. Every bite was too perfect. Every moment a reminder that her life had become a stage-and she didn't know if she was the actress or the audience.

Later that afternoon, the front door opened. She didn't have to look. She felt his presence ripple through the air like gravity had shifted.

Adrian walked in, casually buttoning his suit jacket. "Miss me?"

"No."

"You lie beautifully. Have you always been that gifted?"

"Only when survival demands it."

He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "You're tense."

"No, I'm floating on clouds of gratitude," she snapped. "Thanks for breakfast. And the creepy silent wardrobe delivery."

He smirked. "That's your way of saying you liked it?"

She opened her mouth to argue, but his look silenced her. It wasn't threatening. It was... knowing. Like he saw past every line she rehearsed.

Then he stepped closer. One hand came to rest on the back of her neck, firm but not harsh.

"I'm not playing games, Celene. If I touch you, it won't be to toy with you. If I undress you, it'll be to worship you. And if I f*ck you"-his voice dropped-"it'll be because you beg me to."

Her breath caught. Heat rushed beneath her skin. *Don't let him see you crack. Don't-*

"I won't beg," she whispered.

Adrian's lips curved into something dark. "Not yet."