Page 120 of The Rules
Hates that it used to feel like armor. Now it feels like chains.
But she doesn’t have time for this.
Not inthisplace, where weakness doesn’t pay. Where eyes are always watching and Blondie is expected to be every man’s fantasy and no one’s mess.
She exhales sharply. Her hands tremble before she forces them still. Focus. Fix it.Do your job.
Because in this world, Blondie doesn’t get to fall apart.
She doesn’t get to bleed. She smiles. She seduces, survives.
And Katherine? She has no place here.
After finishing her makeup, Kath moved behind the bar, tidying a few stray glasses and wiping down the counter—anything to keep her hands busy. She didn’t notice Ian at first, not until the familiar sound of his boots crossed the floor behind her.
She looked up just as he approached, his movements casual but purposeful as he leaned against the bar. She recognized that look—the one that said he saw through whatever facade she was trying to maintain. It made her skin prickle with unease.
"You're holding back," Ian said, arms crossed.
She didn't fully meet his eyes. Instead, adjusted her mask, fingers tracing its edge as though that simple gesture could hide the shadows beneath her eyes, the exhaustion that had settled into her bones.
"I'm fine," she replied. The lie felt different with Ian—staler, thinner, like tissue paper trying to hold back a flood. He'd always seen through her.
Ian's expression remained unimpressed. "You don't lie to me, Blondie. We both know you're better at this."
Katherine forced herself to perform—it was what she did best, after all. She curved her lips into a tight smirk, let her fingertips drift down her bodice in a silent display. A show of confidence she didn't feel.
"Maybe I'm just evolving," she offered. "More mystery. More allure."
The words hung between them, hollow and transparent.
Ian knew it. She knew it. The performance wasn't landing, and they both recognized the falsehood for what it was.
Ian exhaled slowly, his expression softening though his stance remained firm. His head tilted as he watched her, something gentle entering his gaze.
"Whatever's eating at you? Don't let it ruin you. You're stronger than that."
Katherine swallowed hard. Was she? Stronger than this? Some days, she wasn’t sure where Blondie ended and she began.
Ian straightened, his posture shifting as business slid back into place. That knowing gleam returned to his eyes, sharp as a blade she couldn't quite dodge.
"Oh, by the way. You've got a private booking tomorrow," he said, his tone deceptively casual.
Katherine's stomach turned. She'd been clear about needing space from private clients. Not since him.
"I thought I asked for a break from those," she said carefully, each word measured.
Ian shrugged, his tone light but with an edge that couldn't be missed. "And I honored that. For a while."
Smooth on the surface, sharp underneath—the warning landed anyway. Katherine stiffened, folding into herself with practiced ease.
Ian leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as his smirk sharpened with suggestion.
"But you know how it is. You don't ignore your best customers. They might take it personally."
Her frown lingered as she processed his words. Something in his tone didn't sit right—a note of something she couldn't quite place. But Ian was still the boss. She still had bills to pay.
And in this world, breaking character wasn't an option.
