THE WEDDING AND WILLIAM RULES

CHAPTER 5

"I strongly advise that you don't."

Kate crumpled the paper in her fist. "Or what? He'll lock me in a tower? Add more chains to this gilded cage?"

Mr. Stewart's composed mask slipped for just a moment—a flicker of something that might have been pity. "Mrs. Dray, please—"

"Don't call me that!" Kate threw the paper at his feet. "I'm not his wife. I'm his prisoner!"

"You signed the contract—"

"Under duress!" Her voice echoed through the marble halls. "Do you know what that means, Mr. Stewart? It means every signature, every 'I do,' every second of this nightmare is void!"

The butler bent slowly, retrieving the crumpled rules. "Mr. Dray anticipated you might feel this way."

"Did he now?" Kate laughed bitterly. "Let me guess—he has a contingency plan for rebellious wives? A dungeon in the basement? A psychiatric ward on speed dial?"

"He asked me to remind you that your uncle is expecting your call at three o'clock today." Mr. Stewart straightened, his voice carefully neutral. "To confirm that everything is... satisfactory."

Kate's blood ran cold. "That's a threat."

"It's a reminder."

"It's the same thing!" She grabbed his arm—he flinched but didn't pull away. "Please. You seem like a decent man. Help me. Just... just let me make one phone call. To someone outside this house. Someone who can—"

"There is no one, Mrs. Dray." His voice was gentle but final. "Your uncle controls your accounts. Mr. Dray controls everything else. Even if you ran, where would you go?"

Kate released him, her hand dropping to her side. "So I'm supposed to just... accept this?"

"I'm supposed to give you this." He pulled an envelope from his jacket. "Mr. Dray left it for you."

Kate snatched it, tearing it open with shaking fingers.

*Inside was a credit card—black, heavy, limitless—and a single typed note:*

**Buy whatever you want. Go wherever you want within the estate. Do whatever you want.**

**Just remember: you're being watched.**

**- W**

Kate's hands trembled as she read the words again. *You're being watched.*

She looked up sharply. "Cameras?"

Mr. Stewart's silence was answer enough.

"Where?" Kate's voice rose. "In my bedroom? The bathroom? Where?!"

"In public spaces only, ma'am. Mr. Dray is not a voyeur. He simply... monitors his investments."

"I'm not an investment!" Kate screamed. "I'm a human being!"

"Then perhaps you should start acting like one." The butler's voice hardened—just slightly, but enough to shock her into silence. "Mr. Dray has provided you with security, comfort, and resources most people only dream of. He's protected your parents' company from total collapse. He's even agreed to let you maintain your maiden name publicly if you wish."

"How generous," Kate spat.

"It is generous. In his world." Mr. Stewart met her eyes. "I've served the Dray family for thirty-seven years, Mrs. Dray. I've seen Mr. William at his worst and his... well, his less worst. What he's offering you is not love. But it is protection. And in this house, that's far more valuable."

"Protection from what?"

The butler's face closed off completely. "That's not my place to say."

"Then whose place is it?!" Kate grabbed his arm again, desperate now. "Everyone keeps talking about danger, about threats, about my father knowing something—what was he protecting me from?!"

"Ask your husband." Mr. Stewart gently removed her hand. "If you dare."

He walked away, leaving Kate alone in the vast, empty hallway.

---

*You're being watched.*

Kate looked up at the corners of the ceiling. Sure enough, there—a tiny lens, barely visible against the ornate molding. And there. And there.

She was in a golden prison, and every moment was being recorded.

"Fine," she whispered to the cameras, to William, to whoever was watching. "You want to see what kind of wife you bought? Let me show you."

She grabbed the black credit card and marched toward the front entrance.

Two security guards immediately stepped in her path—mountains of muscle in black suits, earpieces glinting.

"Mrs. Dray." The taller one's voice was surprisingly polite. "Where are you going?"

"Out."

"We'll need to accompany you—"

"No." Kate lifted her chin. "The rules say I can't leave without security. Fine. You can follow me. But you will not tell me where I can and cannot go. Understood?"

The guards exchanged glances.

"We'll need to inform Mr. Dray—"

"Inform him all you want!" Kate pushed past them, heading for the massive front doors. "Tell him his wife is going shopping. Tell him she's spending his money. Tell him she's doing exactly what he said she could do!"

She yanked open the door—

And nearly collided with William himself.

He stood on the threshold, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder, tie loosened, looking more human than she'd ever seen him. Behind him, the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of fire.

"Going somewhere?" His voice was dangerously soft.

Kate's heart hammered. "You said I could go wherever I wanted."

"Within the estate."

"The note said 'wherever I want.'" She thrust the paper at him. "No qualifiers. No fine print. Or were you lying?"

William's jaw tightened. He glanced at the guards, who immediately found somewhere else to be. Then he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click that sounded like a death sentence.

"You want to go out?" He moved closer, and Kate forced herself not to back away. "Fine. Let's go out. Right now. Together."

Kate blinked. "What?"

"You heard me." William pulled out his phone, firing off a text. "We'll have dinner. In public. At the most expensive restaurant in the city. You can wear your wedding dress for all I care. Show the world what a happy couple we are."

"That's not—I don't want—"

"No?" He tilted his head, studying her like a puzzle. "Because five seconds ago, you were desperate to leave. What changed?"

"You're twisting my words—"

"I'm calling your bluff." William's smile was cold. "You don't actually want freedom, Kate. You want to punish me. To make me look bad. To prove you're not beaten."

"I'm not beaten!"

"Then prove it." He held out his hand. "Come to dinner with me. Smile for the cameras. Play the perfect wife. Show me you're strong enough to handle this arrangement."

Kate stared at his outstretched hand. It was a trap. She knew it was a trap.

But she also knew refusing would prove him right.

"One condition," she said finally.

"Name it."

"After dinner, you tell me the truth. About my father. About the debt. About what you're really protecting me from."

Something flickered in William's eyes—surprise, maybe, or respect.

"Deal," he said.

Kate took his hand.

His fingers were warm, strong, and when he pulled her closer, she caught the faint scent of his cologne—cedar and something darker, more dangerous.

"One more thing," William murmured, his lips close to her ear. "If you try to run during dinner, if you make a scene, if you do anything to embarrass me in public..."

"What?" Kate's voice was steadier than she felt. "You'll lock me up? Threaten my uncle? Show me who's really in control?"

"No." His breath ghosted across her skin. "I'll show you the security footage from the night your parents died. And trust me, Mrs. Dray—you don't want to see what's on that tape."

Kate went absolutely still.

"What... what did you just say?"

But William was already walking away, calling for the car, leaving her frozen in the foyer with her world crumbling for the second time in a week.

*Security footage. From the night her parents died.*

The plane crash. The one that killed them.

Why would there be security footage of that?

Unless...

Unless it wasn't an accident.

---

*Earlier that day*

The wedding day arrived faster than Kate could process.

One moment, she was being forced into a dress, the next, she was walking down the aisle like a lamb to slaughter.

The grand church was packed with powerful guests—business moguls, politicians, society's elite.

Cameras flashed, whispers filled the air, but Kate barely processed anything.

Her uncle, Mr. Carlos, held her arm tightly as he led her forward. "Smile, Kate. This is your new life," he muttered under his breath, his fingers digging into her skin.

Kate's lips trembled.

At the end of the aisle, William Dray stood like a statue. He wore a black suit, his green eyes cold and calculating. He didn't look at her with care, excitement, or even fake affection. Just blank indifference.