Breaking the Rules of Love

By Vaneecia

The covenant of marriage. Beautiful and sacred and should never be entered into lightly. And with Aliyanah and Bryson, it was more serious than normal.

At nineteen years old, Aliyanah enters into a contract marriage with Bryson Grey. Their arrangement is beneficial to them both until the rules come into play. Rules that dictate everything about Aliyanah down to what she can eat. And with rules come punishments. Two years in and Aliyanah is sick of it all, and all she wants is out. She just doesn’t know how to get out.
And while she wants out, Bryson is falling in love in his own sick ways. He wants Aliyanah all to himself and will do whatever it takes to ensure that she stays as Mrs. Grey. If only he could tone it down and be what she needs.

Will Aliyanah be able to find her way out, or will Bryson find a way to keep her at all cost?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Royalty Publishing House
• Release date: Oct 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781648402913

Book preview

1

Rule 1

Answer When I call

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Aliyanah

Aliyanah! Aliyanah!

I stifled an eye roll as my husband of the past two years screamed for me. It wasn't like he could see me, but he had a sixth sense for it or some shit like that, so I always forced myself to keep the eye rolling in my head. I found myself doing that more and more often as this marriage went on. I mean, I never expected to fall in love with him; after all, this was nothing more than a contract that I had to fulfill. But holy shit! I never expected the sound of his voice to work my nerves in the same way as nails scraping on a chalkboard. There was nothing that this man did that didn't grate on my nerves down to my soul. Two years in and four more to go, and I was sick of him and everything that came with him. But before you get to judging me, let me introduce myself.

My name is Aliyanah Grey, but most people call me Yanah, except my husband; he insists on calling me by my full name, or Ali, which I hate. The Ali shit sounded extra white to me, and that, I was not. I am twenty-one years old and stuck in a lifeless and loveless marriage, and I had no one but myself to blame for it. I stand at about five feet five and am on the slim side. My skin is like creamy peanut butter in shade and smoothness. Not a blemish in sight, which is surprising considering the life that I’ve lived up until this point. How did that saying go? Thank God I don't look like what I've been through. I had jet-black, waist-length hair that I usually kept in a ponytail, unless I had some fancy event to go to on my husband’s arm, and all that hair framed my chinky brown eyes, small nose, and full lips. I would hate to embarrass him or hear whatever he would say to me as I got dressed at night. Luckily with looks like mine, that was damn near impossible.

It had seemed like a good idea at first. I was eighteen at the time, broke, and homeless, and not sure of my next move. I mean, it wasn't like I had a job, and my mom's boyfriend had been caught staring at me one too many times, but since that was obviously my fault, I was out on my ass with two garbage bags full of my stuff. I was out and on my own for three weeks before I ran into Bryson, and I do mean ran. I had just stolen some junk food from a corner mart, and there he was decked out in an Armani suit, looking like money. I still, to this day, have no clue what he was doing in the hood. Hell, maybe it was so he could find some gullible girl from the hood to mold into the perfect wife. And it had worked out for him, but that was neither here nor there, because here I was. Bryson took one look at me and offered me a shower and a bed. After telling him that it wasn't that kind of party, he laughed at me a little before explaining that he just wanted to help me.

I had stared into his gray eyes long and hard before figuring that it wasn't the worst thing that could happen. And if he tried to kill me, well, I would put up one hell of a fight. He let me stay the night, and I was so thankful. I had almost forgotten what a bed felt like, and the bed in his guest room was as soft as a cloud. The next day, he woke me up with his offer, and I took it. Like I said before, what did I have to lose? That very same day, he took me out shopping and everything else while his lawyer drew up a contract. The contract had thirty rules outside of the actual guidelines of the marriage. The guidelines meaning how long we would date before getting married, how long we would be married, a children clause, and what I got when/ if we decided to call it quits. Yep, outside of those things, there were thirty rules that I had to follow each and every day of the week, no matter what, even if I was on my damn death bed. I mean, I wasn't dead yet, right? If I wanted what was owed to me at the end of it, that was. And I wished like hell that I was exaggerating, and before I could sign it, we had to date. But it was worth it, right?

Sometimes, I wasn't sure that it was, if I was being honest. I was actually breaking rule number one at this very moment. Rule #1: Answer when I call. Does not matter the setting; if I call your name, you answer me in a respectful manner.

But right now, I didn't want to answer him. I wanted to punch him in his ugly ass face. Well, that was only half true. Under no circumstance was Bryson ugly, even when I was pissed off at him. Bryson stood at about six feet tall and was built like he stayed in a gym. His complexion was like milk chocolate that framed his gray eyes and full pink lips. He had a few tattoos scattered across his body and kept his hair in low waves that would make you dizzy if you stared at them long enough. He was definitely sexy, and before all this, that would've been enough. But I had learned that looks can't make you love someone. And I wished like hell that they could, but they couldn't.

Aliyanah, I know you are here. Both of your cars are in the driveway! Bryson yelled.

I shook my head at the sound of his voice. Something about ignoring him just gave me a feeling of power. I continued with the manicure that I was giving myself. That was one of the first things I was going to do when this ended: open my own nail shop. I would have loved to do it now, but that was against the rules. Well, one of them that I would tell you all about at another time. As I was admiring my nails, Bryson stepped into the room that was reserved for my hobby, as he called it, with a frown on his face.

I'm sure you heard me, so why didn't you answer me?

I let out a deep breath to control my breathing and my temper. Over the course of this bullshit ass marriage, I had learned a lot of ways to keep myself in check so as not to break the rules, but it was becoming harder and harder, and I was starting to care less and less. I was a fucking human being, and humans broke rules, but Bryson liked to forget the simple facts of life. But I was right at the point of reminding him. You are disrespecting one of my rules.

I swear I mouthed the words with him as he said it. That was how well I knew the routine of breaking his rules. That was step one, just to see if his words could get me back in line, and maybe any other day, it would have worked. You see, I had gotten a lot better at following the rules than I was at the beginning of this mockery of a relationship. At first, I had thought that they were a joke, but after a couple of punishments that were outlined in the fine print, I got my shit together. I quickly stopped breaking rules and read the damn contract over with a fine-tooth comb. I mean, I had to if I wanted to get the money that I wanted. After all, that was my whole damn reason for signing the contract. Today was just one of those days where I just had to let it go and accept the punishment that may or may not come with it. Some punishments were physical while others were of the monetary variety. And today, I would take either just to feel like I was in a normal fucking relationship.

I am very aware that I am breaking the rules, but for once, I would like to pretend that there weren't any rules. I would like to act like we are in an actual relationship and ignore you when I am mad at you. And if that comes with one of your infamous punishments, then so be it, because I am very pissed at you at this moment, I ranted.

I watched as shock flooded his face. I don't think that I had ever actually been really mad at him, and I definitely had never spoken to him like this, but this was different. He sat at the end of my bench and let out a deep breath.

Okay, why are you pissed?

This time, it was my turn to be shocked. I mean, I didn't expect him to actually give a damn about anything that I had just said. I actually expected him to tell me that I would be getting a punishment and not listen to a damn thing that I had said. But for the first time since I met him, he had proven me wrong. I'm sure you're wondering why I reacted the way I did, and the answer was simple, Bryson was very selfish, and even that was being generous. It was his way, or his way and then the highway. Yes, you read that right. If you didn't want to do what he wanted you to do, he would force it on you and then kick you to the curb.

I get that this isn't real to you and that it is what I signed up for, but I don't appreciate being disrespected. And the fact that whatever bitch you are fucking feels bold enough to call my fucking phone to remind me that this isn't real and she is ready to take my place, is disrespectful, I stated as I packed up my nail kit.

Yeah, he had a side bitch. I wasn't really tripping off that, as sad as it probably sounded for me to say. I mean, I figured that it would come with the whole fake marriage thing; after all, it wasn't like he really wanted to be with me. But the fact that he let her feel like she could call me and disrespect me was a whole other issue. I mean, damn, what kind of bullshit was that? It was already bad enough that I couldn't really speak out when he was disrespecting me. I wasn't going to take it from some bitch that I didn't even know and couldn't tell you who she was if I walked by her on the street. And him pillow talking with that bitch which was a whole other issue. She should not know my name or anything else about me. That's just basic creep shit. I watched the rage build in his face.

She did what?

Yep. Called me up and called me by my name and everything, which I think is mighty funny, considering as I don't know her name, but she sure knows a lot about me. So do me one last favor, once this pretend moment is over, make sure you never, and I do mean never bring me up to her again. Fair?

I didn't even bother waiting for an answer as I headed towards our bedroom. I wasn't even sure he was going to do it, but it would be best for all involved. I made it to the room ready to just lay down and watch a movie, but it was wishful thinking if I thought that he was going to just let it go. He was hot on my tail like I had done something to him, which was far from the case; but, whatever got him to sleep at night.

I'm sorry that she came to you, and I will take care of that as soon as possible. Now will you lose the attitude?

Attitude lost, I stated in the driest tone that I could muster.

I heard him scoff at the attitude that was clearly still there, but I could really give an entire fuck about how he felt about the situation. Oh, and I want a new number, and make sure she doesn't get this one, I stated as he turned to leave.

Fine. I'm going to take a shower and when I come out, we need to have a serious talk.

About?

Kids. It's coming up to the time frame in which you are supposed to give me three kids, he spoke as if that shit was normal.

I swear I don't think I have