Page 23 of Falling for Mr. Ruthless (The Rules We Break #1)

ELEVEN

JUST THIS ONCE

CHANEL

"Jake…"

I snap awake, heart hammering against my ribs, sheets twisted around my legs. My hand is between my thighs, body trembling on the edge of release. I turn my face into the pillow just as the wave crashes through me, muffling the sound that tears from my throat.

My body pulses with aftershocks as reality filters back in. The digital clock reads 7:45 AM. —another morning where the line between past and present blurs.

I push myself up, legs still shaky, and walk to the bathroom. The cool tile against my feet helps ground me in the present, away from dreams where Jakob’s hands are on my skin again.

The conference room wasn't supposed to happen. I had rules, boundaries— clear lines drawn between professional and personal. But something broke open when he backed me against that table, when my fingers curled into his jacket instead of pushing him away.

I've tried to quantify it, categorize it, file it away where it can't reach me. Sleep deprivation. Proximity. The stress of the audit. Simple biology—bodies that once knew each other remembering old rhythms.

Nothing more.

But my subconscious isn't cooperating with this neat explanation. It keeps replaying his fingertips digging into my hips, the heat of his body pinning me against the table, the way he whispered my name against my neck, each syllable a sultry confession that ignited every nerve in me.

I splash cold water on my face and look up. Water drips down my cheeks as I stare at myself in the mirror.

I'm searching for some visible mark that would prove I'm not the same woman I was before that afternoon. Before I crossed a line, I promised myself I'd never approach again.

But my reflection shows nothing changed. The same eyes, same careful composure, same woman who rebuilt herself after Jakob walked away stares back at me.

But looks can be deceiving.

The drawer in my bedroom still holds those divorce papers. Four years since I folded them once and tucked them away. And I had to become someone new.

I remember that morning like it happened yesterday. The cream envelope with his name already signed. No explanation. No conversation. Just the silent expectation that I would complete the paperwork that would end six years of our lives together.

Jaden was in the next room, babbling to himself, unaware his world was splitting in two.

I didn't cry. Didn't scream. Didn't call Jakob demanding answers. I simply made breakfast, dressed for the day, and moved forward like I hadn't been shattered.

That was the first day of my reconstruction.

I went back to work. Started at the bottom again. Nights studying after Jaden went to sleep. Mornings before dawn reviewing cases. Building expertise in forensic strategy while other mothers were planning playdates.

Now I'm on the verge of partnership at Rowe Stratton shoulders tense beneath his shirt. I eat mechanically, tasting nothing but the metallic tang of lies I'm telling myself.

I can handle this. It meant nothing. It won't happen again.

Three lies before 8 a.m.—a personal record.

* * *

"What's different about you?"

Latanya's question catches me mid-sip. Coffee sloshes dangerously close to the rim of my mug.

"Nothing." I set the mug down carefully on her kitchen counter. "Why?"

"Something's off." She studies me—head tilted, eyes narrowed slightly—the way she does when she's trying to piece together every area of my life. "You seem... I don't know. Lighter?"

I laugh, the sound sharper than intended. "Sleep deprivation. Makes me delirious."

"No." She leans forward, elbows on the counter. "It's something else. You're all... glowy."

Heat climbs my neck, impossible to control. "It's just makeup."

"You haven't worn blush since 2019." She's not letting this go. Latanya never does, once she gets her teeth into something. "Spill."

I consider deflection. Denial. The usual tactics. But something about her expression.

"I got laid." I shrug, aiming for casual dismissal. "So I'm great."

Her smile freezes. Just for a heartbeat. A microexpression I might have missed if I weren't looking directly at her. Her hand tightens around her coffee mug, briefly before she relaxes her grip.

"Well, well." Her voice is light, but something in it catches like fabric on a nail. "Anyone I know?"

The question carries weight I can't quite parse. I take another sip of coffee, buying time.

"No one important." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. "Just... releasing tension."

"Right." She looks down at her mug, then back up with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Good for you, Nel. You deserve some fun."

Something shifts in the air between us—a subtle current I can't identify. But Jaden bursts into the kitchen before I can examine it further, carrying a video game controller like a trophy.

"Aunt Tanya, look what Tyler gave me!" He thrusts it toward us, face bright with excitement. "It's the special edition one!"

The moment breaks. Latanya turns to him, all warmth and attention, the strange tension dissipating like smoke.

I watch her with my son—the easy affection, the genuine interest, the unconditional support she's offered since the day he was born.

My rock. My constant. The one person who's never wavered.

"That's amazing, J!" She high-fives him. "Tyler's a good friend."

"The best." Jaden grins, then looks at me. "Mom, can Tyler come over to the penthouse sometime? I want to show him my room."

The penthouse. Not Dad's house anymore. The shift in language so small, so significant. The first sign of our fiction becoming his reality.

"We'll see." I check my watch. "We should get going. You've got karate in thirty minutes."

"I can take him." Latanya offers immediately, as she has a hundred times before. "You look like you could use some rest."

For a second, I'm tempted. A few hours alone. Space to breathe. Time to recalibrate the mess I've made of everything.

Then I remember Jakob's schedule. He'll be at the penthouse, working remotely after his morning meetings. Alone. Waiting.

"Thanks, but I've got him." I stand, gathering my bag. "We've got that parents' day thing at school tomorrow. I need to review some of his work before then."

"Jakob's coming to that?" Latanya's voice sharpens slightly. "Together?"

"For Jaden." I don't meet her eyes. "It's what co-parents do."

"Right." That same tight note in her voice. "Co-parents."

“But if you could pick him up after, that would be great.”

“Yeah, I got you.”

“Thanks.” I hug her goodbye, promising to call later. As we leave, I catch her watching us from the doorway.