Three rules

Abigail entered yet another grand hall, this time designated as the dining hall. The scale of the room's magnificence was impressive. However, what truly caught her off guard was the sight of an expansive dining table that seemed capable of accommodating around 20 individuals on each of its lengthy sides.

Crafted from rich, polished wood that gleamed with a protective varnish, the table exuded an air of elegance. Adorning its surface were meticulously positioned bronze candelabras, each supporting slender candles that stretched out at measured intervals. These candles cast a warm, intimate glow that contrasted the vastness of the hall.

Positioned distinctly at the table's head was a resplendent golden chair, while rows of equally refined seats lined both flanks of the table, creating an atmosphere of regal formality.

Opting to take her place to the right of the central, unmistakably ornate golden chair – presumably reserved for Alexander – Abigail noticed that her designated spot was marked by a neatly prepared plate. Settling into her seat, Charles, the butler, promptly emerged at her side.

She finally realized that the butler and maids were treating her like she was a princess, which made Abi feel a little uncomfortable.

She looked at the luxurious dishes on the table, their presentation as stunning as if highly skilled Michelin-star chefs had made them. She wondered who else would be eating. When she realized that the table was set for only one person, her jaw dropped. Was all this extravagance really meant for just one person?!

"The master is still asleep, and we wouldn't want to keep you waiting. Please, go ahead and enjoy your meal, Miss," Charles, the butler, informed her. As soon as he finished speaking, all the maids and Charles himself discreetly moved to the side, standing quietly as they waited for her.

Abi had seen depictions of this kind of lifestyle in movies and books, but now that she was actually sitting there, immersed in the experience, she couldn't help but feel a touch of awkwardness and a hint of sadness. It might have been because she wasn't accustomed to eating alone. In her own home, meals were a time for the family to gather and share stories, making the dining experience lively and warm. This stark contrast hit her deeply, highlighting just how different this life was from the one she was familiar with.

Was Alexander Qin always eating alone like this? Could this be the reason why he asked his girlfriends to live with him? Was he lonely?

Abigail tried her best to eat as much as she could to show some respect to the cook. It was delicious, yes, but she found it hard to enjoy. She definitely wasn't used to eating by herself and she definitely wasn't used to having people watch her eat. She finished her meal quickly and thanked Charles and the maids for the meal before she headed out of the dining room.

As she walked into the corridor, Abi decided to roam around the house to familiarize herself with it. Wherever she went, whatever room she ended up in, she would stare in awe at the design and at the furniture and the paintings and decors on the walls.

Abi soon found herself in the spacious ballroom, its emptiness echoing around her. Her attention was captured by the sight of a grand piano nestled in a distant corner, bathed in sunlight that seemed to be its only companion. While the piano's surface was pristine and its shine undeniable, Abi had an intuitive sense that its keys hadn't been played in quite some time. She walked towards it, drawn to its lonely soul.

By around four in the afternoon, there was still no sign of Alexander Qinn's presence. Is he still asleep? Abi  really couldn't imagine that godly male being such a sleeping log. Or, is he exhausted and sleep deprived.

As her fingers delicately grazed the piano's keys, a sensation tingled on her skin, alerting her to a presence. Swiftly turning her head, she found herself locking eyes with Alexander. He stood gracefully by a pillar, his posture exuding a kind of effortless elegance. He had changed his clothes and his hair was a little damp.

"Little lamb is interested in pianos?" he asked and Abi gaped at him for a moment as he approached her.

"Yes, I like pianos."

"Do you want to play?" he asked, curious.

"I'd love to, but…"

"But?"

"Shouldn't we talk about the contract first?" .

"Oh, gutsy little lamb," he laughed as he bent and touched her cheek. "I think I should train you about patience."

Abi didn't know why she gulped.

"No, it's not because I'm impatient. I just think that that should be the first thing we should talk about. I want to know what I am allowed or not allowed to do as your girlfriend," she explained, looking as serious as ever.

Alexander bit his lower lip. His eyes still gleaming with amusement.

"There's no need for you to sign a contract, Abigail."

"Why?"

"Because… I think you're too... innocent... to plot against me. Those contracts were just for formalities, in case things turned… sour." He said with a serious tone and playful smirk. 

Leaning in, he continued. "All you have to do is follow three rules, Abigail… First, you will be home before or during twilight. Any later than that and you'll be punished. Understand?"

Abi blinked. She honestly didn't see that coming. .

"I understand... I just wasn't expecting such an early curfew," she trailed off, but Alexander met her with a gaze that tacitly conveyed, 'In my home, my rules.'

"Second, while you're in this house, you will listen to no one but me. Only do what I ask you to do. Understand?" When Abi nodded, he proceeded. "And last, but not the least –"

"I won't ask or demand for your love. Got it." Abi took the words out of his mouth and Alexander eyes glittered with something she couldn't fathom, as a smile curved on his face.

"If you adhere to those three rules, then we should have no issues, Abigail," he said, his words trailing off as he tenderly held her face in his hands. His striking eyes, a vivid and icy contrast against his long, dark lashes, locked onto hers. "But if you choose not to..."