Bound by His Rules

The next morning, Lydia woke up in a different world.

Her old apartment was gone. Not literally—but Jake had moved her.

She had fallen asleep in her clothes, exhausted from everything that had happened. When she woke, she was in a penthouse suite, draped in soft gray sheets, surrounded by the scent of luxury and danger.

A soft knock came at the door.

She sat up, confused. “Come in?”

A woman in black stepped in with a tray of food—eggs, fruit, fresh bread, and coffee. She placed it on the nightstand without saying a word and bowed slightly.

“Wait—where am I?” Lydia asked.

The woman simply said, “The boss instructed you be made comfortable. He’ll be with you soon.”

And then she was gone.

Lydia stared at the door, heart pounding.

She was really here.

In his world now.

---

The penthouse was massive. Glass walls offered a full view of the city skyline. Expensive art lined the halls. There were no family photos—only cold elegance.

Lydia changed into the clothes provided: a simple white dress and soft flats. Everything fit perfectly. Of course it did. Jake probably had her measurements memorized.

She wandered into the living room, and that’s where she found him.

Jake William.

Sitting at the head of a long marble table, dressed in a black dress shirt with the top buttons undone, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal the veins in his forearms. A glass of scotch in one hand, a file in the other.

He didn’t look up.

“Sit.”

Lydia’s hands clenched. “You moved me without asking.”

Jake looked up, finally meeting her eyes. “You’re mine. I don’t need permission.”

“This isn’t normal,” she said.

Jake set the glass down. “Nothing about me is normal.”

Lydia sat across from him, but her spine stayed straight, like she needed to fight off his presence with posture.

“What happens now?” she asked.

Jake slid the file across the table.

“These are the rules.”

She frowned and opened it.

Rule #1: You belong to me.

Rule #2: No lies. No secrets.

Rule #3: You don’t talk to other men unless I approve.

Rule #4: You live where I say, wear what I give you, and go where I allow.

Rule #5: Disobedience has consequences.

Her hands tightened around the paper.

“Are you serious?” she asked, voice trembling.

Jake rose slowly and walked over to her. He stopped just behind her chair, his hands sliding over the backrest.

“I’m dead serious,” he said near her ear. “This isn’t just a relationship. It’s a contract of possession.”

“I’m not your toy.”

“No,” he said. “You’re not. You’re mine. That’s more than any toy could ever be.”

She stood, forcing space between them. “This is insane.”

Jake stepped forward again. “You agreed.”

“I didn’t agree to be a prisoner!”

Jake’s hand wrapped around her wrist—not painfully, but firm. Controlling.

“You agreed to be mine,” he said. “And mine means rules. Structure. Protection.”

“It sounds like control.”

“It is control.”

Lydia stared at him, defiant. “You can’t cage a person and call it love.”

“I never promised love,” Jake said. “I promised you’d be protected. And I keep my promises.”

He released her wrist and turned away.

“You can walk away,” he said. “Right now. That door is open. But you walk out, you go back to nothing. No school. No money. No protection. No future. And worse… someone else might get to you before I do.”

She swallowed.

There it was again.

That reminder.

Jake William wasn’t just obsessed. He was dangerous. And this world he lived in—it wasn’t just about power. It was about survival.

---

Later that afternoon, Lydia explored the penthouse further. Every room was exquisite—designer everything. But her favorite was the library.

It was massive. Shelves stretching to the ceiling, full of leather-bound books, rare editions, and old maps.

She found a soft chair in the corner and curled up with a novel.

For a moment, the chaos faded.

Then Jake appeared in the doorway.

He didn’t speak. Just watched her read.

“I didn’t think you were the kind of man who reads,” Lydia said without looking up.

“I don’t,” he replied. “But I like watching you do it.”

“Creep.”

Jake smirked and walked toward her, kneeling beside the chair.

His eyes softened—just barely.

“I know I scare you,” he said quietly.

She didn’t respond.

He reached for her hand, his thumb brushing her palm slowly. “But I won’t let anyone hurt you. Ever. Not even myself.”

Lydia turned her head. “What if I want a real relationship? With freedom?”

“Then you’re in the wrong world.”

He stood and leaned down, brushing a kiss against her temple.

“You’ll get used to the rules. Eventually, you’ll even like them.”

“I doubt it.”

Jake chuckled. “You don’t know it yet, baby, but you’re already addicted to me.”

He walked away, leaving the scent of cedar and danger in his wake.

---

That night, Lydia lay in the massive bed, staring at the ceiling.

Jake hadn’t come to her room.

He didn’t need to.

His presence was everywhere—etched into the walls, stitched into the sheets, carved into the silence.

She reached for the file of rules again and stared at the first line.

You belong to me.

She didn’t know when it had started to feel true.

But it did.

And that terrified her more than anything.

--

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