Eighty One

ROBYN After the ceremony, we stay seated for a while—watching Camilla and Anthony be swept into hugs, cheers, and flashes of cameras. Guests start to filter out toward the rooftop, where the reception will take place. But neither of us moves. Dominique’s hand is still resting on my thigh, but the heat from earlier has mellowed into something gentler. His thumb rubs small, absent-minded circles across my skin. It’s not teasing. It’s not possessive. It’s… soft. Thoughtful. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet,” he murmurs beside me, his lips close to my ear, voice low and unhurried. I glance at him. “I’m taking it all in.” He nods, then turns his body slightly toward me. “What’re you thinking?” I hesitate. Not because I don’t know, but because I do. I’m thinking about what just happened inside me—how I saw my future for the first time, and it scared me less than I thought it would. So instead of spilling the whole truth, I offer a sliver of it. “I’m thinking mayb

Eighty Two

ROBYN We sway, slow and unhurried, letting the music wrap around us like a secret. My cheek brushes against his chest as I speak, barely loud enough to be heard. “What do you think is going to happen when we get back to New York?” The question hangs there—raw and vulnerable. My stomach tightens. A part of me fears he’ll say this doesn’t follow us home. But when I tilt my head up to meet his gaze, the glint in his eyes says otherwise. Dominique smirks, that dangerous curve of his lips that always knocks the air from my lungs. “Getting tired of me already?” “You should know I’m not one to back down easily, Mr. Voss.” His smirk grows. “The deal was simple. We play. I lose, I walk away. But guess what?” He leans in, brushing his mouth near my ear. “I won. So technically, this isn’t over.” I raise an eyebrow, lips curving. “So now you’re just cocky.” “Maybe,” he says, pulling me closer until our bodies are flush. “Or maybe I just know a good thing when it’s in

Eighty Three

There’s warmth in his expression, and a hint of amusement like he’s just walked in on a conversation he’d rather not interrupt but won’t pretend he didn’t witness. “You mind if I steal her for a dance?” he asks, directing the question to Dominique, not me. Dominique doesn’t answer right away. He leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “Don’t think for a second this conversation is over.” The low promise vibrates through me as he steps back, casting a warning glance at his father before walking away. I take William’s hand, and he leads me into a gentle sway, his touch careful, respectful. “You look really beautiful tonight, Robyn,” William says, his smile warm as we move to the soft beat. “It’s no surprise my son can barely keep his eyes off you.” A small, unintentional smile slips through, and I hold his gaze. There’s something in the way he’s looking at me right now—like he’s studying me. Calculating, in a way. But also… almost protective. “Thank you, Mr. Voss,” I say s

Eighty Four

DOMINIQUE I know the exact moment something goes wrong. It happens in the span of a heartbeat. One second, Robyn is in my father’s arms, letting him guide her across the dance floor with that cautious smile she wears when she’s trying not to feel too much. The next, every inch of her goes rigid. Her gaze locks on something over his shoulder. Then she looks like she’s seen a ghost. No. Worse. She looks afraid. Real fear. Not the kind she throws at me when I push too far. Not the kind that sparks in her eyes when I back her into a corner and make her feel too much. This is different. This is the kind of fear that drains the color from her face. The kind that makes her pull away from my father so abruptly it draws attention. The kind that sends something cold and dangerous through my veins. Because I’ve never seen Robyn look like that. Whatever she saw— it scared her. “Robyn.” I say her name once, low enough not to cause a scene

Eighty Five

DOMINIQUE For what feels like hours, though it’s only been a few minutes, we walk the shoreline in silence, the sound of the waves filling the space between us. I’ve known Robyn long enough to understand one thing. The harder you push, the stronger her walls become. Whether she realizes she’s doing it or not, that’s how she protects herself. So I don’t press. I let the silence settle between us, hoping she’ll come to me when she’s ready. Even though every instinct inside me is screaming to demand the truth. To peel back every lie she’s ever told. To drag every secret into the light if it means I can protect her from whatever the hell she’s so afraid of. I hate this. I hate that she doesn’t trust me enough to let me in. I hate that she’s convinced she has to carry this alone. Most of all… I hate knowing she’s hurting and being powerless to stop it. She may not know it yet, but I want to be there for her. I want to be the first person she re

All Chapters of His Games, Her Rules: Chapter 81 - Chapter 85

Eighty One

Eighty Two

Eighty Three

Eighty Four

Eighty Five