His Father Bought Me Chapter 56: Rule Number Two

"No, Estelle. I’m not leaving."

Roman’s voice ca out firm, but there was strain beneath it. His chest rose and fell too fast, heat creeping into his face as he looked at her. Part of him wanted to turn around, to walk out, to pretend none of this mattered, but his body refused to follow through.

Estelle didn’t move, she just kept her gaze forward, distant, as if he wasn’t even there. And that stung more than anything. Roman crossed the space between them in a few quick steps and spun her chair around.

Estelle’s breath hitched as she was turned to face him. For a second, her eyes widened, her chest rising unevenly, but she said nothing.

"I’m ready to work with you," Roman said, his voice lower now, more controlled. "But I should be allowed to challenge a rule if it doesn’t sit right with . That doesn’t an I won’t follow it."

"You already broke the first rule." Her voice was quiet, but it landed hard. Her gaze dropped to his hands, still gripping the wheelchair.

Roman froze. Then he pulled back quickly, like the tal had burned him, his fingers curling into his palms as he stepped away.

Estelle shook her head slowly, exhaling. "This isn’t going to work," she said, her tone calm but final. "We haven’t even gotten through the rules, and you’ve already crossed the first line."

Roman watched her, sothing shifting behind his eyes. Then, without another word, he stepped back and returned to his chair, sitting down with a controlled breath.

"I’ll respect your space," he said after a mont, his voice steadier now. "Let’s continue." He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. "But the twenty-four hour notice?" he added, pressing his lips into a thin line, "that depends on my father. He controls the schedule. The appearances. The rules. You know this already."

Estelle held his gaze. "Then that’s the first thing you need to change," she said evenly. "If I’m going to play the role of a good wife, then I need a husband who can actually protect ." She paused briefly. "If you can’t do that, then I don’t think there’s—"

"I will make it happen." Roman cut in, his voice firm this ti, leaving no room for doubt. His eyes locked onto hers, sothing resolute settling in them.

For a fleeting second, the corner of Estelle’s lips curved. Then she reached for her phone again, her fingers steady now as she tapped the recorder back on with a soft click.

"Rule number two," she said.

Roman’s jaw tightened, but he stayed silent, watching her.

"In public, we play the perfect couple," Estelle continued, her tone smooth. "No breaking character. No matter what happens." She paused, just long enough for the weight of it to settle. "But the mont the caras are off, we go back to the truth."

Roman’s brows drew together slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

"And that’s not all," she added, her voice sharpening just a fraction. A faint tension crept into the room. "We are both free to see whoever we want," she said. "No questions. No explanations. No jealousy."

Roman’s lips parted to speak, but she was not done.

"But never where the press can see it," she continued. "No public dates. No photos. No ’accidental’ sightings." Her gaze didn’t leave his. "What you do outside this marriage is your business, and what I do is mine."

The words lingered between them and Roman’s jaw hardened visibly.

Then her tone shifted into sothing colder. "Whatever you do with her stays outside this house," she said. "I don’t want to hear her na, see it on your screen, or sll her on you when you walk in. If I ever have to face her, even once? This arrangent is over."

Silence followed, thick and heavy, as the rule settled into place.

Roman’s jaw worked, the muscle ticking so sharply it looked painful. He should have felt relief. I an, this was what he wanted, wasn’t it? A clear path. No obstacles, no confusion, and Lena, within reach.

But instead, his chest felt tight, like sothing had slamd into him at full speed, knocking the air clean out of his lungs. "Fine," he rasped, the word dry, bitter on his tongue. "If that’s what you want."

Estelle didn’t blink. "It’s not about what I want, Roman," she said evenly. "It’s about what’s efficient."

Roman dragged in a slow breath, forcing the heat in his chest down, and locking it away. "Next rule," he said, his jaw still tight, his voice controlled despite the anger simring beneath it.

Estelle didn’t hesitate. "You don’t make decisions that affect without telling first," she said. "Not with your father. Not with the press. Not under any circumstances."

Her gaze held his, sharp and unwavering. "And if you ever throw under the bus again," she added, her voice dropping slightly, "I will make sure you regret it."

Roman exhaled through his nose, his fingers curling against his knees. His blood burned, but he didn’t interrupt. He just watched her, his mind already moving, calculating.

"And one last rule," Estelle continued, leaning back slightly in her chair, but her eyes never left his. "You don’t lie to again. I want the truth. No matter how ugly it is." A pause. "Because the next ti you do, I won’t confront you."

Her voice turned colder. "I’ll go straight to your father. And I’ll make sure you lose everything you’re trying to protect." The words settled heavily between them.

Roman held her gaze, searching her face, then let out a slow breath. "Is that all?" he asked.

The question caught her off guard, just for a second. Still, she nodded. "That’s all."

Roman leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasping loosely as he studied her. "I’ve heard your rules," he said quietly. "But I have two of my own."

Sothing in his tone made her chest tighten. Estelle swallowed. What is he about to say?

"You can be with whoever you want," Roman continued, his voice steady. "I don’t care."

He paused for a breath. "But you don’t fall in love."

For a second, sothing in her chest reacted before her mind could catch up. Then she shut it down.

"Not with anyone. Not ever," he added, his gaze sharpening. "Because the mont you do, I will end it. Him, you, this arrangent. Everything." No man walks around thinking he can own sothing that belongs to , he added, but only in his head.

Estelle’s eyes widened briefly before she forced her expression back into place. "Fine," she said, her voice even. "What’s your second rule?"

Roman didn’t look away. "You don’t keep anything from ," he said. "Not about our plans. Not about my father. Nothing."

Estelle swallowed, the motion subtle but there. Her mind flickered back to Magnus, to his offer, to everything she hadn’t said. But she nodded anyway. "Fine."

Roman caught it, the hesitation, however slight. His head tilted just a fraction, his gaze narrowing as he studied her more closely. "On that note," he said slowly, "is there anything I need to know?"

Estelle’s pulse spiked because suddenly, it didn’t feel like he was asking. He was closing in.