Page 128 of The Rules
It was an ultimatum.
Her chest ached with the weight of it—tight, cold, familiar. Another leash. Another ledger of control.
But her father’s name was still rotting in a file.
And Ben held the key.
So Katherine nodded—once, slow, deliberate. The motion stiff with everything it cost her.
“All right,” she said quietly—but not weakly. “Your rules.”
A beat passed. The air thickened.
Then she lifted her chin, gaze steady despite the thunder in her chest. “Tell me what they are.”
Ben’s tone dropped. Darker. Measured.
“First,” he said, “no lies. No secrets. No exceptions.”
His voice was low, controlled. “You don’t breathe without me knowing why.”
Her throat tightened. “That’s—”
“Non-negotiable.” He didn’t let her finish. “You’ve lied too many times, Winters. Privacy isn’t a privilege you still have.”
The humiliation scraped raw against her ribs, but she didn’t look away.
“I decide when and how we meet,” he continued, unforgiving. “If I call, you answer. If I say come, you come.”
"That's not control, that's—"
"Command," he finished for her, his eyes cold. "You gave that up the second you chose me."
Katherine’s hands curled into fists in her lap. Each word tightened the grip he had over her—reminding her exactly what this cost.
“At work, it’s ‘Mr. Sinclair,’” he said. “Nothing else.”
The words hit harder than they should have. A title like a locked door, slamming shut behind everything they’d once shared.
“You answer anything I ask. No dodging. No edits.
No strategic silences.” He didn’t lean in. Didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. The weight of his restraint was the threat.
Katherine shifted in her seat, the air between them strung tight as wire.
Her voice came softer now. “You’re not going to use it against me… right?”
Ben’s smile curved—slow, quiet, merciless.
“Depends on what you give me.”
Silence followed—dense and absolute.
She glanced away. Just a flicker. But it was enough.
He’d seen it. And he’d marked the win.
“Even if it hurts?” she asked, barely more than breath.
