Rules Under One Roof
Lily woke up the next morning convinced she had dreamed everything.
For three blissful seconds, she lay still, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, her mind blissfully blank.
Then reality crashed back in.
The oversized bed.
The silk sheets.
The faint smell of something masculine and expensive lingering in the air.
She groaned and rolled onto her side, burying her face into the pillow.
"I married a billionaire," she muttered.
The pillow didn't argue.
Lily forced herself up and padded into the bathroom. Everything gleamed—marble counters, gold fixtures, mirrors so clear they felt almost cruel. The woman staring back at her looked like herself, but also… not.
She brushed her teeth mechanically, trying not to think about last night. About the cameras. About Adrian's hand at her back. About the way he'd looked at her for just a second too long.
It doesn't mean anything, she reminded herself.
It was a contract.
Nothing more.
After dressing in the simplest outfit she could find—a soft sweater and jeans that still probably cost more than her monthly rent used to—she hesitated before leaving the bedroom.
This was his house.
Her house.
The thought made her stomach twist.
Downstairs, the mansion was already awake. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating a dining table long enough to seat twelve people.
Only two chairs were occupied.
Adrian sat at the head of the table, tablet in hand, coffee untouched beside him. He looked exactly as composed as he had the day before, dressed in a crisp suit as if marriage hadn't altered his routine in the slightest.
Lily slowed her steps.
"Good morning," she said cautiously.
Adrian glanced up. "You're late."
She stopped. "It's eight."
"Yes," he said. "Breakfast is at seven-thirty."
Her eyebrows shot up. "I didn't realize this was a boarding school."
"It's a household," Adrian replied calmly. "Structure matters."
She pulled out a chair and sat anyway. "Then you should've included a timetable in the contract."
His lips twitched almost imperceptibly.
Almost.
A maid placed a plate of food in front of Lily—fresh fruit, eggs, toast, everything perfectly arranged.
She stared at it. "You eat like this every morning?"
"No," Adrian said. "You do."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You're my wife now," he said evenly. "Your health reflects on me."
Lily let out a short laugh. "So I'm part of the brand."
"In public," Adrian said. "Yes."
She picked up her fork and poked at the eggs. "You're unbelievable."
"And you're underweight," he replied. "Eat."
She shot him a glare but did as told, hating the way a small part of her appreciated the concern.
After a moment, Adrian set his tablet aside.
"There are house rules," he said.
Of course there were.
Lily leaned back in her chair. "Let me guess. Curfew? Dress code?"
"Don't be dramatic," he replied. "Rule one: separate bedrooms remain unless mutually agreed otherwise."
She nodded quickly. "Agreed."
"Rule two," Adrian continued. "No entering my study without permission."
"Why? Is it full of secret lairs and villain buttons?"
"Yes," he said dryly. "Exactly that."
She snorted before she could stop herself.
His gaze flicked to her face, lingering a second longer than necessary.
"Rule three," he went on. "We have dinner together at least four nights a week."
Her amusement faded. "Why?"
"Appearances," Adrian replied. "Staff talk. Patterns matter."
She sighed. "You really think of everything like a calculation."
"I've survived by doing so."
Something in his tone made her pause.
Before she could respond, a sharp voice cut through the room.
"Adrian."
Lily turned.
An older woman stood at the entrance, impeccably dressed, silver hair pulled back into a neat bun. Her eyes were sharp and assessing—and fixed directly on Lily.
Adrian stood immediately. "Grandmother. You're early."
"I wanted to see her," the woman said, walking closer. "The wife you married without warning anyone."
Lily straightened instinctively.
"This is Lily," Adrian said. "My grandmother, Eleanor Blackwood."
Eleanor's gaze swept over Lily from head to toe.
"So," Eleanor said, "you're the girl who managed to tie my grandson down."
Lily swallowed. "It wasn't exactly—"
"Sit," Eleanor said, gesturing to the chair beside Adrian.
Lily hesitated, then obeyed.
Eleanor studied her closely. "You're not what I expected."
"That makes two of us," Lily replied before thinking.
Adrian shot her a warning look.
Eleanor, however, laughed softly. "Sharp tongue. Interesting."
She leaned forward. "Tell me, Lily, why did you marry him?"
The question landed like a trap.
Lily felt Adrian's presence beside her—still, watchful.
"I married Adrian because we care about each other," Lily said carefully. "And because marriage is a commitment we chose together."
The words tasted strange.
Eleanor hummed. "We'll see."
She stood. "I expect you both at the family dinner this weekend."
Adrian nodded. "Of course."
Eleanor's gaze lingered on Lily one last time. "The Blackwood family is not forgiving of mistakes."
Then she turned and left.
The silence she left behind was heavy.
Lily exhaled slowly. "Your family is… intense."
"They value loyalty," Adrian said. "You did well."
She looked at him. "Was that another test?"
"Yes."
She frowned. "And did I pass?"
"For now," he replied.
That should have annoyed her.
Instead, it unsettled her.
Later that night, Lily stood in the hallway outside Adrian's study, staring at the closed door.
She didn't know why she was there.
Curiosity, maybe. Or frustration. Or the need to remind herself that she hadn't completely lost control of her life.
She raised her hand—then froze.
The door opened.
Adrian stood there, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened slightly.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I—" Lily stopped herself. "I was lost."
"In my house?" His eyebrow lifted.
"Yes," she said stubbornly. "It's big."
He studied her for a moment, then stepped aside. "Come in."
Her heart skipped.
"I thought that was against the rules," she said.
"It is," Adrian replied. "Which means you should be careful what you ask for."
She stepped into the study.
The door closed behind her.
And for the first time since signing the contract, Lily had the uneasy feeling she'd crossed an invisible line.