Rule One: No sex.
Rule Two: No real feelings.
Rule Three: Keep the public fooled.
And if it gets complicated? Revisit rules one and two.
That was Naya's opening message the next morning.
Straight to the point. No good morning. No emoji. Just terms and conditions, like she was drafting a client contract.
Kian sipped his black coffee and smirked. She was nothing if not efficient.
---
He met her at a quiet café near her office.
Neutral ground. Public setting. Less risk of awkward tension.
She arrived in a beige suit, hair pulled tight, lip gloss barely pink. She looked like the woman who had her life together—even as the internet tried to shred her.
"Did you read the rules?" she asked before sitting.
"I did," he replied, leaning back. "You forgot rule four."
Her brow lifted. "Which is?"
"Don't fall in love."
She didn't blink. "Wasn't planning to."
He liked that about her—her ability to be ice-cold without being cruel. She wasn't dramatic. She didn't flinch. But she felt, even if she buried it under sarcasm and logic.
"You got a lawyer?" she asked, pulling out a folder.
"Already drafted the terms."
"I want my own clause—no romantic expectations. No forced displays of affection when we're alone."
Kian nodded. "Agreed. But public appearances need to look real. Holding hands. Eye contact. Maybe a kiss now and then."
She exhaled, like the word kiss physically tired her.
He leaned forward slightly. "I'm not going to touch you unless you ask."
Her eyes flickered. Just for a second.
And in that second, he saw something under all the control—fear. Not of him, but of herself. Of losing grip. Of wanting something real.
"I don't want to get used to pretending," she said softly.
"Then don't pretend," he said. "Just show up."
---
They signed the first draft of the marriage contract that evening.
She read every line twice. Annotated the margins. Negotiated her privacy clause like a lawyer.
Kian just watched her work.
Focused. Sharp. Closed off.
She didn't flirt. Didn't smile much. But when she did—once, briefly—he felt it.
Not in his chest. Lower.
Dangerous.
But they had rules. And she didn't believe in magic.
So neither did he.