Page 109 of The Rules
He watched it all with ruthless precision.
Every flicker of emotion. Every tremble. Every tear.
And when it finally overtook her, when her shoulders curled inward, when her hand lifted like she might shield herself from him or from the truth—he just straightened, cold and composed.
Inside, it didn't feel like victory.
But it sure as hell looked like one.
He watched the tears spill down her cheeks, each one carving a path through her carefully applied makeup.
"I see you understand now," he said, his voice soft with mock sympathy. His smirk was cold, pitying—a man delivering punishment with a scalpel rather than a hammer. Designed to cut deepest where she was most vulnerable.
He studied her face, searching for any hint of calculation behind those tears. Was this just another performance? Another mask she wore to manipulate him? The thought made his fist clench, fury thrumming just beneath the surface of his control.
“Winters,” he continued, his voice shaking—not just with rage, but with something heavier. Something that sounded an awful lot like pain. “Was that part of the game too?”
Her body jolted as if he'd struck her. She shook her head frantically, her composure completely shattered now.
"No—Ben, I swear—I wasn't lying—" Her voice cracked, breaking over the words like waves against rocks.
And for a second—just a second—he almost believed her. The desperation in her eyes, the tremor in her voice, the way herfingers clutched at nothing as if searching for something to hold onto—it all seemed genuine.
But almost doesn't mean shit.
He watched her crumble and he feltrage.
White-hot and coiled tight in his chest, thrumming with every breath.
His voice was a blade, each word honed for maximum damage.
“Or maybe that was the plan all along.” He didn’t shout. Every syllable landed like a gunshot. “Get in my head. Get in my bed. Then what?” His nostrils flared. His teeth clenched.
“A baby?” He leaned in now, no room for escape. “Tie me down with a fucking accident?”
She flinched. Her face broke. Good.
“Is that why you didn’t want protection?” His voice was low, lethal.
"That's not true..." Her voice cracked, thin and shaky like wet paper.
Ben didn’t give a damn. He was past caring.
“You think I give a fuck what you say now?” He stalked away, pacing like a man trying not to put his fist through a wall. “You lied to my face for weeks. You fucked me and smiled while you did it. And now you expect me to believethis?”
He turned, eyes blazing. Ruthless.
“How do I even know you take anything at all?”
That did it.
Kath stumbled, like the accusation alone knocked the breath out of her lungs.
“I do! I swear, I do!” she gasped. “I take them every time—”
But he cut her off with a bitter laugh, ice-cold.
“Youswear? Now? Now you want me to take you at your word?” His voice was venom. “The word of a liar who’s been acting every day since the moment she stepped into this building?”
