Chapter 9: The Rules Were Breaking

Hailey's POV

The penthouse felt too quiet after the chaos.

I stood in the foyer, still in my wedding dress, exhaustion weighing down every bone in my body. The reception had lasted hours after the confrontation with Floyd. Endless rounds of fake smiles, forced laughter. Maxwell's hands on me constantly while I pretended not to notice.

"Take it off." Maxwell's voice came from behind me.

I turned. He'd already removed his jacket and tie, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to the forearms. He looked so hot even half-undressed.

"Excuse me?"

"The dress." He nodded toward the hallway. "The bedroom is the second door. Susan unpacked your things earlier."

I walked down the hallway, my train flowing against the marble floor. The room was massive, king-sized bed, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, a closet bigger than my old apartment. My clothes hung beside designer pieces I definitely hadn't owned before.

I unzipped the dress with shaking hands, letting it fall at my feet. Pulled on sweats and a t-shirt. Cozy and mine. When I came back out, Maxwell was in the living room, pouring amber liquid into two crystal glasses.

"Drink." He held one out. "You look like you need it."

I took it. The scotch burned going down, but the warmth helped.

Maxwell leaned in against the bar, studying me with those unnerving violent-blue eyes. "We need to talk about the rules."

I raised an eyebrow. "I thought we already did..."

"We need to talk about them again." His voice was firm. "Because what happened tonight, the kiss, the touching, that was for show. It doesn't happen behind closed doors."

"I know that." I tried not to sound disappointed.

"Do you?" He stepped closer. "Because you kissed me back at the altar like you forgot it was fake."

Heat crawled up my neck. "You deepened the kiss..."

"For the cameras." His jaw tightened. "To sell the narrative. That's all it was."

"Right. Of course." I took another sip, the scotch making me bolder than I should be. "So what are the rules again? No touching, no feelings, strictly business?"

"Exactly." His voice was cold.

"And what about tonight?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. "When you pulled me close during the dance? When you told Floyd I was yours?"

"Performance." But something flickered in his eyes. "All of it."

"Performance." I repeated the word, tasting the lie. Because that kiss hadn't felt like performance. It had felt real and desperate. Like he'd meant every second of it.

Maxwell set his glass down with deliberate precision. "We have rules for a reason, Hailey. To maintain boundaries. To keep this professional."

"I understand..."

"Do you? Because if those boundaries blur, if this becomes something other than a contract, it complicates everything."

"I'm not going to fall for you, if that's what you're worried about." The words came out sharper than I intended. "I've already made that mistake once. I'm not doing it again."

His expression darkened. "Good. Because I don't do relationships. I don't do feelings. I do transactions. Arrangements. This..." he gestured between us. "...is business. Nothing more."

"Message received." I drained my glass. "Anything else?"

"Yes." He refilled both our glasses. "We'll be sleeping in the same room. There are two beds. You take one, I take the other. We maintain distance."

"Are you kidding?" I stared at him. "Aren't we supposed to have separate rooms..."

"We're supposed to have q functional living situation." His voice was hard. "The other bedrooms are offices or storage. Unless you want to sleep on the couch for six months?"

I wanted to argue. But there was no point, at least we'd have separate beds. "Fine, I've got no choice anyways."

We stood there in tense silence, the space between cracked with unspoken tension. The memory of his mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, the way he'd pulled me against him like he was claiming something that belonged to him...

"Mommy!"

The small voice shattered the moment.

I spun around to find Gio in the doorway, his hair messed from sleep, His teddy bear clutched in one hand. Susan must have brought him back after the reception ended.

"Baby, what are you doing up?" I moved toward him.

But Gio wasn't looking at me. He was staring at Maxwell with those identical violent-blue eyes, his face lit up with pure joy.

"Daddy!" Gio's whole face lit up. "You're here!"

Before I could react, Gio ran across the room and launched himself at Maxwell.

And Maxwell, this cold, controlled man who'd just spent the past ten minutes reinforcing boundaries, caught him without hesitation.

Gio's arms wrapped around his neck, his small body curling against Maxwell's chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I had a bad dream," Gio mumbled against his shoulder. "But then I remembered you're here now."

I watched as Maxwell's hand came up to settle on Gio's back.

"You're safe." Maxwell's voice was quiet. "No one's going to hurt you."

Gio sighed contentedly, his eyes already drifting closed. Within seconds, his breathing evened out, his small body going slack with sleep.

Maxwell stood there, this five-year-old boy draped across his chest, looking completely out of his element and somehow perfectly natural at the same time.

Maxwell shifted Gio carefully, cradling him against his chest as he stood. "I'll put him to bed."

"I can..."

"I've got him " His voice was firm. "Go to bed, Hailey. You're exhausted."

He walked past me toward the bedrooms, Gio's dark curls pressed against his shoulder, and I couldn't move. Couldn't breath. Couldn't process what I was seeing.

My son, who'd never had a father, clinging to a man he'd known for less than three days like he was everything.

And Maxwell, who'd claimed he didn't do feelings, didn't do relationships, holding him like he'd fight the world to keep him safe.

I stood alone in the living room, staring at the empty doorway, the taste of scotch still burning in my throat.

No feelings. No touching. Strictly business.

But watching Maxwell carry my son to bed with devasting gentleness, watching Gio trust him completely, watching the way his hand had moved on my baby's back...

Those rules were already breaking.