One Rule Don T Fall Novels & Stories

“Vincent Evans, the man who negotiates CEOs into corners, just… agreed to that?” I didn’t rise to the bait. I just drank. Fallon leaned closer, dropping his voice. “Let me give you a word of advice, because I like you. Rules like that? They only exist to be broken. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be sitting here with that look on your face.” The words landed heavier than I expected. I forced a smirk, masking the tension in my chest. “And what’s your advice, then?” Fallon lifted his glass. “Decide which side of the rule you want to be on before it decides for you.”

●Rule Seven:Never leave the estate without a security detail. ●Rule Eight:Do not trust anyone completely. ●Rule Nine:If danger arises, obey my orders immediately. She flipped to the last page, where a single line sat isolated at the bottom. ●Rule Ten:Never fall in love with me. Lorrie blinked. Then, a laugh escaped her lips. A real, genuine laugh. Lorenzo’s brows knitted together. "What's funny?"

I looked across the entire room. “And one more thing. Everyone standing here tonight, remember this. The Leon family can replace a district boss. It can replace drivers, lawyers, mistresses, accountants, and even the groom at a wedding. But the rules do not change. Anyone who tries to use this family as a ladder to climb up the ranks, I’ll break their legs.” This time, every single person lowered their head. I knew this fight was far from over. The real retaliation would begin tomorrow. However, I had been waiting for this day for far too long.

"Do you have any idea you've ruined me? Weren't you the one bragging that all of Ethan's projects were really your deals? Is this how you 'handled' things? "If you hadn't missed Mr. Harrison's call because of your stupid three 'do-not-disturb' rules, we wouldn't have lost over a hundred million in investment! You useless idiot!" Lesley stood there stunned, trying to defend himself. "Vivian, I'm just an employee—if they don't want to invest, what am I supposed to do? It's not like..." Vivian froze, a bitter lump forming in her throat. Those words. She'd heard them before. So familiar—but now the pain was hers.

And I do not allow what is mine to be damaged. Rule #3: Honesty is required. Obedience is learned. You are not expected to obey me immediately. You are expected to be truthful. If you are afraid, you will say it. If you are angry, you will say it. If you feel unsafe, you will say it. Silence creates mistakes, and mistakes create consequences. Rule #4: You will not run. Not because I would enjoy stopping you, but because there are things beyond my territory that would not return you alive.

“What’s the point of it?” Rule 1: No one touches the other without permission. Rule 2: You come to me when you feel it starting and I don’t go to anyone else if I need a release. Rule 3: You don't hide anything from me. Talk to me about anything. I’ll handle it. Rule 4: You don't let anyone else physically touch you. We still don’t know what might happen if they do. Rule 5: You follow the schedule. Rule 6: You sleep at the house.

He reached out, his long finger lightly tapping against the center of the third page. "Rule Number Four: No deliberate sabotage. Neither of us is permitted to intentionally damage the other's reputation, business, or personal standing. Furthermore, neither party is allowed to publicly reject or disavow this relationship while the agreement remains active. You cannot run to the press declaring a separation six months from now because you find my home too quiet or my schedule too demanding." "And if I break one of these rules?" I asked, looking up to meet his intense gaze. "If I trip over my words in front of a reporter, or if I panic and want out?"

“Christian told me. Everyone tells me. It’s not new.” She blinks, slightly taken aback, before holding out a crisp set of stapled papers. “Right. Well... here are the rules. Mr. Christian likes things—” “Rules?” I didn’t—wait. Now that I remember it, I actually heard Christian talking about rules, though I didn’t pay attention because... that shit in front of him didn’t let me. I grab the papers quickly, my eyes scanning the top line before I even process the rest. Do not leave the estate without permission. Curfew: 9:00 p.m. Phone on at all times. Never go to the top floor. No visitors. Don't this, don't that, don't, don't, don't...

I took a small step back, as if a little extra distance between us could somehow make everything make sense again. “Henry, we're pretending to be together.” “I haven't forgotten.” “Then you remember the rules.” “Yeah.” His voice was low. “I remember.” I held his gaze. There was one rule in particular that suddenly felt a lot more important than all the others. “Especially Rule Three.” Henry didn't answer right away. He just looked at me. Then, almost reluctantly, he said, “Don't fall for me.” “Exactly.” The word barely left my mouth before the silence returned.

“One of you will play as the blindfolded person, listening to instructions from the other. A single team against the others.” “Sir…” “I don’t want to hear the excuses, Bennett.” Coach cuts me off with a glare at the end. Once the game starts, it’s obvious we have no rhythm whatsoever. Mainly because I refuse to believe any word coming out of Noah’s mouth which means I’m either slamming my body into someone or shooting the puck at random places. It’s a disaster.