Rules to follow

IRIS~

A sharp knock on the door woke me up.

I blinked slowly, confused for a second before everything came rushing back.

“Come in,” I said quietly.

The door opened and a woman walked in, pushing a tray of food. She didn’t look at me much as she set it down on the table. “Here's your food ma'am” she said as she began to leave. “Oh,” she added, pausing at the door. “After you eat, Mr. Ross wants to see you.”

My stomach dropped. Of course he did.

The door closed softly behind her, leaving me alone again.

I stared at the food for a while. 

It looked normal. Toast with fruits and sliced avocados. But nothing about my situation made me trust the food.

What if it was drugged? What if… 

My stomach growled loudly, cutting off my thoughts.

I let out a quiet sigh. I was already weak. Already sick.

If I didn’t eat, I’d probably pass out again.

Slowly, I reached for the food.

I ate carefully at first. Small bites, waiting for some sort of reaction. Nothing happened.

So I ate a little more. Not too much. Just enough to feel a bit stronger.

When I was done, I sat there for a few seconds, staring at nothing. Then I stood up.

I didn’t want to go.

But I knew I didn’t have a choice.

I walked to the door and opened it slowly.

The hallway was quiet.

I stepped out, my heart beating a little faster as I looked around.

“His room is down the hall. Last door on the right.”

I turned.

It was the same woman from before.

I nodded slightly. “Thank you.”

She didn’t smile. She just walked away.

I swallowed and started walking. Each step felt heavier than the last. When I finally got to the door, I stopped. My hand hovered over it.

For a second, I thought about running.

But where would I even go? There was no way out. 

I knocked. “Come in.”

His voice was cold, calm like always. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was bigger than mine and darker too.

Everything looked expensive, clean and perfect. And then I saw Tristan.

Standing near the window, his back slightly turned. He looked over his shoulder at me.

“Close the door.”

My fingers tightened slightly around the handle, but I did it.

The door clicked shut behind me. The sound echoed in the room.

And suddenly, the space felt smaller. “Come here.” I hesitated. “I said come here.”

My jaw tightened, but I walked toward him slowly. Each step made my heart beat faster.

When I stopped in front of him, he didn’t say anything at first.

He just looked at me quietly.

Like he was trying to figure me out.

“Why am I here?” I asked, breaking the silence. He didn’t answer.

Instead, he said, “Take it off.” I froze. “What?”

“Your shirt.”

My chest tightened immediately. “No,” I said.

His eyes darkened slightly. “I wasn’t asking.”

Silence filled the room.

My hands trembled just a little. This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. But the look in his eyes… He wasn’t joking. Slowly, I reached for the hem of my shirt. My fingers felt stiff as I pulled it off quickly. I immediately folded my arms over myself, anger rising fast in my chest.

“Happy now?” I snapped.

He didn’t answer. He just looked at me. Not like a pervert or anything but just… looking. Like he was thinking. Seconds passed. My heart pounded harder. “Done?” I added, my voice sharper now. Something shifted in his expression. Then he looked away. “Put it back on.” I blinked. “What?” “Now.”

Confusion hit me immediately, but I didn’t argue this time. I put my shirt back on quickly, my hands still shaking slightly. “What was that?” I demanded. He walked past me like nothing had just happened. “A reminder,” he said. I frowned. “Of what?” He stopped and looked back at me. “That you don’t make the rules here.” My stomach tightened. Of course, rules. “There are a few things you need to understand,” he continued.

I folded my arms. “I’m listening.” “You carry a pager at all times,” he said as he handed it to me. “When it goes off, you come to me immediately.” “And if I don’t?” I asked. His gaze didn’t change. “There will be consequences.” A chill ran down my spine. I looked away. “Second,” he continued, “you don’t leave this place unless I allow it.” My head snapped up. “What?” “You heard me.”

“That’s not happening,” I said quickly. “I have a job. I have a life outside this place.”

“You had a life,” he corrected calmly. Anger rose in my chest.

“No,” I said firmly. “I still do.” He watched me for a moment. Then he said, “You can continue working.” I blinked, surprised.

“What?” “You’ll go to work,” he said. “But only under my terms.” That didn’t sound good. “What terms?” I asked carefully. “I decide when you go. When you leave. And what you do.” My excitement disappeared immediately.

“That’s not freedom,” I muttered. “I never said it was.”

Silence filled the room. “How long is this going to last?” I asked quietly. His expression didn’t change. “As long as I say.” My chest tightened again. I felt trapped all over again. “Another rule,” he added. I looked at him, already irritated. “What now?” His eyes hardened slightly. “You don’t speak unless I tell you to.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?” “When I’m talking, you listen,” he said calmly. “You don’t interrupt and you don’t argue. You respond only when I allow it.” Something in me flared up immediately. “That’s not…”

“Did I tell you to speak?” he cut in.

My mouth snapped shut. The silence that followed felt heavy.

My hands clenched at my sides, anger building, but I forced myself to stay quiet.

He watched me for a second, like he was waiting to see if I would disobey.

I didn’t.

“Good,” he said.

“You can go to work today” he said as he gestured for me to leave. Just like that, dismissed.

I stared at him for a second, then turned and walked toward the door and left.

As I left the pent house the only thing that went through my mind was how

and what I was going to tell my dad and Lila. They can never know about this at all.