His rules

(Livia) The woman Julian had spoken to led me through the mansion without saying much. I followed with my dress gathered in my hands while another member of staff carried my suitcase. We passed several open doors along the way, and I caught glimpses of bedrooms larger than the one I had grown up in. Every one of them was empty. "My name is Mrs. Harris. I manage the household staff." "I'm Livia." She glanced at me. "I know who you are, Mrs. Prescott." Hearing the name felt strange. I had been married for only a few hours, yet everything I knew had already changed. My parents had sent my suitcase ahead with the few things they thought I needed. They hadn't even bothered to ask what I wanted to take. Mrs. Harris stopped at a narrow door near the end of the hall. The staff member beside us opened it and carried my suitcase inside. I stood outside for a moment before forcing myself to enter. Julian hadn't been exaggerating when he called it a storage room. There was a small bed against one wall and a wooden table beside it. Several empty shelves covered the opposite wall, and a single window faced the back of the property. My suitcase took up much of the remaining space. There wasn't even a chair. "I'm sorry." I looked at Mrs. Harris. "For what?" Her eyes went toward the doorway. "There are sixteen bedrooms in this house." I didn't know what to say to that. She wasn't responsible for Julian's decision, and I didn't want her getting into trouble because of me. I placed my bouquet on the small table. Some of the flowers were already crushed. "Where is the bathroom?" "There's one farther down the hall. You'll have to use that one." "Okay." Mrs. Harris studied me for a few seconds. "I can have someone bring you something to eat." I realized I hadn't eaten since breakfast. My parents had been too busy dealing with the wedding disaster to care whether I was hungry. The reception had been filled with food, but I hadn't touched anything. Julian had disappeared for most of it. "Thank you. I'd appreciate that." Mrs. Harris left with the other staff member. I closed the door and finally removed my shoes. My feet hurt from standing for hours, and the wedding dress suddenly felt too large for the little room. I sat on the bed and stared at the ring on my finger. I was married. The thought should have meant something. Instead, I felt as though I had been handed from one family to another. My father had called me Julian's responsibility. Julian had already made it clear he didn't want the responsibility. I opened my suitcase and found clothes packed inside. My mother had chosen everything without asking me. There were dresses, underwear, shoes, and a few personal things from my bedroom. My phone was tucked between two shirts. I picked it up and saw three missed calls from Camille. My fingers stopped over the screen. She had disappeared and ignored everyone for two days. Now she was calling me after I had already married the man she left behind. I didn't know whether I wanted to hear her voice. The phone rang again. Camille. I answered. "Where are you?" "I'm safe." I closed my eyes. "Do you have any idea what you did?" She didn't answer immediately. "I couldn't marry him, Livia." "So I had to?" "I didn't know they would make you do it." I stood from the bed. "You know our parents. Who else did you think they would use to fix this?" "I thought the wedding would be canceled." "It wasn't." Silence came from her side. I could hear music somewhere behind her. Wherever Camille was, she wasn't sitting alone wondering what had happened to me. "Did you marry Julian?" "You already know I did." She exhaled. "I'm sorry." I looked around the room Julian had given me. "Are you?" "What is that supposed to mean?" "It means you left me to deal with everything." "I didn't leave you anything. I left Julian." I ended the call. My hands were trembling, and I put the phone on the bed before I dropped it. Camille had always been able to leave when things became difficult. I was the one who remained behind and dealt with our parents. Nothing had changed. A knock came at the door. Mrs. Harris entered carrying a tray with a covered plate and a glass of water. She placed it on the table beside my ruined bouquet. The smell of food reminded me how hungry I was. "Thank you." "You're welcome." She started toward the door before stopping. "Mr. Prescott has rules about meals. Breakfast is served at seven, lunch at one, and dinner at seven. The family dining room is used unless he says otherwise." I nodded. "I'll remember." She left, and I changed out of the wedding dress before eating. My mother had packed a plain nightdress, so I put it on and folded the wedding dress across the suitcase. There wasn't anywhere else to put it. I ate everything Mrs. Harris had brought. Someone knocked again before I could finish my water. I expected Mrs. Harris, but Julian stood outside. He had removed his suit jacket and tie. His white shirt was open at the collar, and he looked at the room before looking at me. There wasn't enough space for both of us without him standing close to the bed. I moved farther away. "I see they followed my instructions." "What do you want?" His eyes went to the tray. "Getting comfortable already?" "I'm eating." "I can see that." I placed the glass down. "If you came here to remind me you don't want me, you already made that clear." His expression changed. "You have more courage now that we're alone." "I don't want to fight with you." "Then don't give me a reason to." I stared at him. "I didn't do anything to you." "You stood where Camille was supposed to stand." "Because I was forced to." "You could have refused." A bitter laugh nearly escaped me, but I stopped it. "So could you." Julian stared at me for several seconds. "I married you because I had something to lose." "So did I." He looked away before returning his attention to me. "We need to understand each other. You won't interfere with my work, you won't enter my private rooms, and you won't pretend this is a normal marriage. Stay out of my way, and we won't have problems." "I wasn't planning to pretend." "Good." He turned toward the door. "Julian." He stopped but didn't face me. "What?" "If Camille comes back, what happens to me?" This time he looked at me. "Nothing changes. You're the one I married." He walked out and closed the door behind him. I stared at the wedding ring again. Camille had escaped the life she didn't want, while I was trapped inside it. Julian couldn't marry her now without ending our marriage first. I wondered what would happen if the woman he loved decided she wanted him back.