His Father Bought Me

Roman exhaled slowly, running a hand over the back of his neck. "I want us to move forward with the plan," he said. "I can’t stand my father anymore."

Estelle held his gaze, studying him, searching. "That’s why you’re here?" she asked softly. Not because you want to be?

Roman nodded, the motion firm, like he was trying to convince himself as much as her. "We made a plan," he said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "And we need to follow through. The sooner we start, the faster I’m free from my father’s hold, and the sooner we can both walk away from this marriage and live our lives the way we want."

Estelle opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The air felt thicker all of a sudden, pressing against her chest. She swallowed, forcing the feeling down, and gave a small nod instead.

"Fine," she said after a breath. "You have a point." She straightened slightly in her chair, her fingers curling lightly against the armrest as her composure slipped back into place. "But if we’re doing this again," she continued, lifting her gaze to meet his, "then we need rules."

Roman’s face twisted in confusion. "Rules? What do you mean?"

"Yes, Roman, rules," Estelle said, her tone unyielding. "Because where there are no boundaries, people cross lines." Her eyes held his. "And I don’t think I can watch you cross another one."

Roman studied her, caution flickering behind his gaze. What are you up to now?

Estelle didn’t look away. "The choice is yours," she said simply. "If you’re ready for that, then sit down, and let’s get to work."

Roman didn’t move immediately. His jaw tightened, eyes searching hers. Then, slowly, he let out a quiet exhale and sat. "Alright," he said, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. "Where do we start?"

Estelle glanced around the room, her gaze drifting until it landed on the small drawer by the bedside. She wheeled herself over and pulled it open, the soft scrape of wood breaking the silence as she rummaged through it.

Then her fingers paused suddenly as she saw it. Something small. A button. She froze. Her brows drew together slightly as she stared at it, her pulse skipping. What is this?

"Estelle?" Roman’s voice pulled at her. "Are you alright?"

She swallowed quickly, blinking once as she forced herself back. "Ye—yes," she said, the word catching slightly before she steadied it. Her eyes flicked to the object once more, then she slid everything back into place and closed the drawer as if nothing had happened. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

She turned back to him, smoothing her expression. "On second thought," she said, a faint, almost forced smile touching her lips. "Who needs pen and paper when we have our phones?"

Roman frowned, studying her more closely now. "Are you sure you’re okay?" he asked. "You look pale."

"Pale?" Estelle scoffed, dismissing it as she wheeled herself back toward him. "Of course not. I’m perfectly fine."

She stopped a few feet away, her hands settling on the wheels, holding herself still. Her steady gaze met his. But beneath it, her heart hadn’t slowed at all.

Roman nodded slowly, but his eyes moved, just once, toward the drawer.

Estelle caught it, and her heart slammed harder against her ribs, the sound loud in her ears, almost drowning out everything else. For a split second, she thought he had seen it too.

"Alright!" she said quickly, her voice a little too bright, a little too loud in the quiet room. She straightened, forcing control back into her expression. No one is touching that before I do.

Roman looked at her, a faint crease forming between his brows, but he didn’t press. After a brief pause, he nodded. "Alright, let’s go," he said, settling back slightly.

Estelle returned a tight smile. Her fingers trembled faintly as she reached for her phone at her side, the cool surface grounding her just enough. She unlocked it, her thumb hesitating for the briefest second before she opened the recorder.

She tapped the screen softly, and the tiny red light blinked to life. She lifted her chin, drawing in a steadying breath.

"Rule number one," she began, her voice calmer now, steadier as she held his gaze.

Roman swallowed. Something in her eyes, sharp, unwavering, made his heart beat faster. Here we go, he thought as he adjusted himself in his chair, bracing for her words.

"From this moment on," Estelle continued, her chin lifted and her eyes cold, "you don’t touch my chair like I belong to you. You don’t walk into my space uninvited, and you don’t drag me in front of cameras without a twenty-four hour notice."

The room fell quiet around them, her words settling like a heavy weight in the air.

Roman’s face twisted. "What do you mean, Estelle? We both know I—"

"Don’t interrupt me." She lifted her hand just slightly, but it was enough to stop him, and her gaze didn’t waver. "We may be playing a part when we are out there, Roman. But don’t confuse that with control," she went on.

Her voice was steady and quieter, but the steel in it was unmistakable.

Roman’s brows pulled together, his jaw tightening as he stared at her, trying to process the shift.

Estelle didn’t slow down. "I am your partner in this arrangement," she said, her tone firm, leaving no room for misunderstanding, "not something you get to use. Or control."

Roman let out a sharp breath, shaking his head as he pushed back slightly in his seat. "No. No, no, no," he said, disbelief creeping into his voice. "What the hell are you talking about? I don’t agree with this rule. How can you even say that?"

Estelle didn’t blink. She just grabbed the wheel of her chair, ready to turn away. "Then we’re done here," she said simply, pressing the stop button on the recording. "You can leave my room."

Roman stared at her, his jaw parting slightly, confusion flashing across his face as the words sank in. "Why are you—?"

"Get out, Roman. I won’t repeat myself," Estelle said calmly, her back turned to him.