ADRIAN'S Pov

When I woke up, the first thing I saw was sunlight spilling through the curtains and the faint smell of coffee drifting through the air.

For a moment, I forgot where I was. The couch beneath me felt too soft, the blanket too heavy, the air too cold and clean to be home. Then it hit me, this wasn't my apartment. This was his penthouse.

Soren Knight's.

And I was still married to him.

I groaned quietly, pressing a hand to my forehead. My body ached from sleeping on the couch, and my mind ached from trying to make sense of this entire mess. I hadn't meant to fall asleep here, but he'd been quiet last night, distant, like he always was, and somehow the silence felt safer than my thoughts.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. The TV was still on, low volume, looping the credits of some old comedy. There was a glass of water on the table beside me, and beside it... a folded blanket.

He'd covered me.

That realization shouldn't have made my chest tighten, but it did.

"Morning," a voice said from behind me.

I turned quickly to find Soren standing by the counter, already dressed in his sharp suit, tie perfectly aligned, not a single hair out of place. He was holding a mug of coffee like it was part of his hand.

"Didn't mean to wake you," he said.

"You didn't." I stretched, wincing a little. "You look like you've been awake for hours."

"I was," he replied, setting the mug down. "There's a meeting with the board in an hour. I needed to prepare."

Of course. Even after being humiliated on national television, Soren Knight still woke up before sunrise to prepare for a meeting.

I tried to laugh it off, but it came out more like a sigh. "You really don't stop, do you?"

He gave me a small look. "Not everyone can afford to."

The words hit a little too close to home, and for a second, I didn't know how to respond. He wasn't wrong. I couldn't afford to stop either, between hospital bills, debts, and trying not to drown in someone else's world.

I forced a smile. "Right. Mr. Knight and his empire."

He frowned slightly, like he wasn't sure whether I was teasing him or insulting him. "You can have breakfast if you want. The chef left something in the kitchen."

"You have a chef?"

"I have staff," he corrected. "Most of them know better than to speak."

"Wow," I muttered. "Sounds like a fun house."

He ignored that and went back to looking at his tablet, scrolling through whatever business reports ran his life. The silence that followed was thick, awkward, and cold, just like everything else about him.

But I'd gotten used to that silence.

I stood and walked toward the counter, grabbing an apple from a bowl that looked too perfect to actually be eaten. "So... what happens now?"

He didn't look up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're married. The whole world knows it. Your father's furious. The press won't stop calling. So what's the plan, Soren?"

He finally met my gaze. "We make it believable."

"Believable?"

He nodded. "Nathan was right. If we pretend this was intentional-if we act like this was a choice, it'll calm the media and keep investors from running."

I blinked. "You want us to pretend to be a couple?"

"That's exactly what we'll do."

I set the apple down slowly. "You realize how insane that sounds, right?"

"Insane or not, it's necessary," he said coolly. "If I lose control of this company, Victor wins. I'm not letting that happen."

"And what do I get from this?" I asked, crossing my arms.

He hesitated, which meant he hadn't thought that far ahead. "You'll be taken care of. Financially."

I raised a brow. "So I'm just your paid husband now?"

He didn't flinch. "If that's what it takes."

The calmness in his tone irritated me more than the words. I wanted to shake him, to make him realize how ridiculous it sounded.

"I didn't marry you for money," I said sharply. "It was an accident. A stupid night that got out of control."

"And now it's a contract," he said simply. "One that can save both of us."

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped. Because somewhere deep down, I knew he wasn't wrong.

If pretending to be his husband could solve his corporate disaster and keep me from drowning in hospital bills... maybe it wasn't the worst deal in the world.

But it still hurt to hear him talk about it like a transaction. Like I was just another number in his perfectly organized life.

"Fine," I muttered, grabbing the apple again. "I'll play along. For now."

He studied me carefully, his blue eyes unreadable. "You have no idea what you're getting into."

"Neither do you," I shot back. "You think you can control everything, but people aren't business deals, Soren. You can't schedule feelings."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he'd say something cutting. But he didn't. He just turned away, straightening his cuffs like he was trying to fix the one thing he could control.

"Be ready by noon," he said. "Nathan will brief you on what to say."

I frowned. "Say for what?"

"The press conference."

My stomach dropped. "Press conference?"

He finally looked at me again. "The world wants to see us. We'll give them what they want."

********************

Two hours later, I was standing beside him in front of dozens of flashing cameras.

Soren looked completely in his element, calm, sharp, untouchable. I, on the other hand, was trying not to squint at the lights or sweat through the suit Nathan had chosen for me.

The press whispered like a wave before one of them called out, "Mr. Knight, is this marriage legitimate?"

Soren's voice was steady when he answered, "Yes. Adrian and I are married. It may not have been planned, but it is real."

I blinked, glancing up at him. Real?

He placed a hand on my back, light but firm, enough to make the cameras explode with flashes. His smile was smooth, convincing, almost gentle.

For the first time, I saw him not as the cold CEO, but as someone who could make the whole world believe a lie.

And I was part of it.

The questions came faster after that. How we met. Why Vegas. Whether it was love or strategy. Soren answered every one with precision, and I followed his lead, trying not to say the wrong thing.

By the time it ended, my heart was pounding.

He leaned close as we walked offstage, his voice low enough for only me to hear. "You did well."

"Don't sound so surprised," I muttered.

"Don't sound so proud," he replied.

I glared at him, but he was already walking away, surrounded by reporters and assistants.

And somehow, I felt invisible again, just like the night this all began.

When we finally got back to the penthouse, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed on the couch. My phone buzzed with notifications, articles, photos, social media posts. Every single one with our names in the headline.

Soren Knight and Adrian Vega: The Billionaire and the Nobody.

I stared at the screen until my chest ached.

This wasn't supposed to be my life.

I'd just wanted to pay for my mother's treatment, to keep her safe. And now, I was trapped in a world where every move, every breath, every touch was part of a performance.

I heard footsteps behind me.

"You handled yourself well today," Soren said quietly.

I turned to him. "You keep saying that like this is some kind of job interview."

"In a way, it is," he said, voice calm as ever.

Something inside me snapped a little. "Do you ever stop being like this?"

"Like what?"

"Cold. Detached. Acting like nothing touches you."

He didn't answer right away. His eyes softened, just for a second, and I saw a flicker of something human beneath the armor.

Then it was gone.

"This is who I am," he said.

"No," I said quietly, standing to face him. "It's who you pretend to be."

He froze, eyes darkening slightly, but before he could speak, I walked past him toward the hallway.

I didn't want to see the look on his face.

I didn't want to admit that part of me cared.

But just before I turned the corner, I heard him say my name, softly, almost like a confession.

"Adrian..."

I stopped but didn't turn around.

His voice was lower now. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

I swallowed, forcing myself to keep walking even though my heart was pounding.

"Too late for that," I whispered.

SOREN'S Pov

The door to the guest room closed softly behind him.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space where Adrian had been, listening to the faint sound of his footsteps fade down the hall. The silence that followed was sharp.

I should have been relieved. Silence was familiar. Silence meant control.

But tonight, it felt heavier.

I loosened my tie, walked to the window, and stared out at the city, my kingdom of glass and light. From here, it all looked perfect. Ordered. Predictable. Every building, every reflection exactly where it belonged.

Except the one thing I couldn't seem to control was the person sleeping two doors away.

Adrian Vega. A mistake that refused to disappear.

A storm that somehow made the air feel alive again.

I hated that thought.

I pressed a hand against the cold glass, my reflection staring back at me like a stranger. My father's words from two nights ago still echoed in my mind. You've become soft, Soren. Weak.

Maybe he was right.

Because for the first time in years, I'd hesitated. I'd let emotion interfere.

When Celeste went public, I should have countered her move immediately, destroyed her credibility, buried her with evidence of her lies. Instead, I'd wasted time trying to calm him.

Adrian had looked at me like I'd ruined his life, and for a split second, that had mattered more than winning.

I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly. Weakness. That's what it was. And weakness in my world was a weapon others used to kill you.

I'd built my life around control. Around numbers, contracts, outcomes I could predict. Adrian was none of that. He was chaos. Emotion. Unplanned.

And yet, somehow, he was also necessary now.

The next morning came fast. I was already in the boardroom by seven.

Nathan sat across the table, looking too smug for someone who should've been loyal. He tossed a folder toward me. "Press coverage from last night. You're trending in thirty countries. Half the media thinks it's a publicity stunt. The other half thinks you've lost your mind."

"Then it's working," I said flatly.

He smirked. "You really think pretending to be in love with him will fix this?"

"Perception is power," I said. "If they see us united, they'll stop looking for cracks."

Nathan leaned back, folding his arms. "Funny. Because from where I'm standing, the cracks are the only real thing you have left."

I ignored him and opened the folder. Articles, photos, headlines, all screaming versions of the same story. The Billionaire and the Nobody.

I flipped through page after page until I reached one image that made my hand still.

It was us, me and Adrian, standing side by side at the press conference. My hand was on his back. His face was turned slightly toward me, caught between fear and defiance.

And somehow, it didn't look fake.

Nathan must've noticed my hesitation. "Careful, Knight. People might start thinking you actually care."

I looked up sharply. "Watch your mouth."

He smiled lazily. "Just saying. You're not the only one who sees it. The board's whispering. They think this marriage has changed you."

"It hasn't."

He stood, adjusting his cufflinks. "Keep telling yourself that."

When he was gone, I sat back and stared at the photo again. My fingers brushed against the edge of the paper.

Changed you. The idea bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

By noon, I was back at the penthouse. Adrian was already awake, sitting on the couch with a stack of newspapers spread across the table.

He didn't notice me at first. He was too busy reading, his brow furrowed, lips pressed tight.

"They really hate me," he muttered.

I said nothing, watching him quietly.

He glanced up, startled. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Every headline says the same thing. I'm a gold digger. A scam artist. Someone who trapped you."

"Do you believe them?" I asked.

He frowned. "No. But everyone else does."

"Let them," I said. "They'll get bored eventually."

He shook his head. "You don't get it. You've lived your whole life behind that name. You're untouchable. I'm not. People know where I live. They're calling my mother's hospital. They're saying things, awful things."

His voice cracked slightly, and for a moment, I didn't know what to do. I wasn't built for comfort. I didn't know how to fix pain that wasn't measurable.

"I'll handle it," I said finally.

"How?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "You can't control the whole world, Soren."

"Watch me."

He let out a hollow laugh. "You really believe that, don't you?"

I stepped closer, my tone sharpening. "If I can't control it, I'll destroy it."

He looked at me then, not scared, but sad. "You sound just like him."

I froze. "Like who?"

"Your father."

The air between us shifted. My chest went cold, my pulse sharp. "Don't compare me to him."

"Then stop acting like him," he said quietly. "Stop trying to fix everything by force. Some things don't need power, Soren. They just need honesty."

Honesty. A word I'd forgotten how to use.

I turned away, walking toward the window. "You think I can walk into a boardroom and fix this with honesty? You think power listens to truth? It doesn't. It listens to fear."

He didn't answer right away. Then, softly, he said, "Then I hope someday you learn what fear costs."

The silence that followed was deep enough to drown in.

He stood, gathering the papers, and walked past me. His shoulder brushed mine, and I caught the faint scent of his cologne, warm, subtle, familiar in a way that shouldn't have been.

When he reached the door, he stopped. "I'm going to see my mom tonight."

"Fine," I said, though something about it made my chest tighten.

"She doesn't know," he added quietly. "About all of this. I want to keep it that way."

"That's your choice."

He nodded once and left.

The door closed, leaving me alone again with the echo of his words.

You sound just like him.

I sank into the chair and stared at the city outside.

The truth was, he wasn't wrong.

I'd spent so long fighting not to be my father that I'd become everything he taught me to be anyway, cold, distant, untouchable.

And yet Adrian, with his stubborn heart and sharp tongue, had managed to chip away at that armor in just days.

It was infuriating. It was dangerous.

Because if he could make me feel, he could destroy me.

Hours passed. The sky darkened. I was still at my desk when the phone rang.

Unknown number.

I answered. "Knight."

There was a pause, then a voice I didn't recognize said, "You should tell your husband to be careful."

I sat up straight. "Who is this?"

The voice laughed, a low, distorted sound. "He doesn't belong in your world, Soren. Someone's going to remind him of that soon."

The line went dead.

For a second, I just sat there, frozen. Then I called Nathan.

He picked up after two rings. "What now?"

"Find out who just called me," I ordered. "Trace it. I want names."

"What did they say?"

"They mentioned Adrian."

There was a pause on his end. "You think it's Celeste?"

"Or my father," I said darkly. "Either way, if they touch him....."

Nathan cut me off. "You're starting to sound personal, Knight. Don't tell me the boy's gotten under your skin."

I didn't answer.

He chuckled. "Careful. Attachments are dangerous in your line of work."

When I hung up, my pulse was still racing.

I walked to the window again, staring out at the city. Somewhere out there, Adrian was alone. Vulnerable. And if that call meant what I thought it did... someone was already moving against him.

I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door.

Because whether I wanted to admit it or not....

He wasn't just a mistake anymore. He was mine.

ADRIAN'S Pov

The hospital smelled the same as always, antiseptic, cold air, and that faint trace of metal that clung to everything.

I used to hate it. Now, it felt like the only place where life made sense.

Mom smiled the moment she saw me walk through the door. "There's my boy," she whispered, her voice soft but warm.

I dropped my duffel on the chair and bent to hug her. She felt smaller somehow, lighter, like her bones were made of glass.

"You're working too much again," she said, pulling back to look at me. "You've got shadows under your eyes."

I forced a laugh. "I could say the same about you."

"Don't deflect," she teased gently. "What's going on?"

I hesitated. For a moment, I wanted to tell her everything, that I was married to Soren Knight, that the world was tearing me apart online, that I didn't even know who I was anymore. But the sight of her smile, fragile, hopeful, stopped me.

She didn't need that weight.

"Nothing's wrong," I lied. "Just long hours, that's all."

She reached for my hand, her skin cool against mine. "You've always carried the world on your shoulders, Adrian. You can't fix everything alone."

I swallowed hard. If only she knew how badly I'd broken everything instead.

"Try to rest," I said softly. "Doctor said your next treatment's tomorrow, right?"

She nodded. "If my insurance clears. Otherwise, they'll delay again."

My stomach twisted. I didn't tell her that the bill was already paid, that Soren had quietly taken care of it behind my back after seeing her file on my table. I'd found out from the hospital's finance office this morning.

I should have been grateful. I should have thanked him. But all I felt was anger.

Because once again, he'd taken control. He'd made a decision for me, make I was too small to handle my own life.

And the worst part? He was right.

I left the room an hour later, needing air. The hospital hallway buzzed with nurses and rolling carts. I slipped out through the side exit and leaned against the cold brick wall, pressing my hands into my jacket pockets.

My phone buzzed. Ten missed calls. All from an unknown number.

Probably more reporters.

I turned it off and looked up at the night sky. For a city this loud, the stars barely showed, but one or two flickered faintly above the buildings.

Then I heard footsteps.

When I turned, a man stood by the curb, half his face hidden by shadow.

"Adrian Vega," he said smoothly. "Busy night?"

My muscles tensed. "Who are you?"

He smiled faintly. "Just someone with a message. You should be careful who you trust."

"I don't even know you."

"Exactly." He took a step closer. "You don't know any of them, do you? The Knights, their allies, their enemies. You think marrying Soren puts you in his world, but it only paints a target on your back."

"Back off," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

The man smirked. "Tell your husband his father doesn't forgive betrayal easily."

Before I could answer, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.

I stood frozen, heart pounding.

Victor. He meant Victor.

I fumbled for my phone, turned it back on, and before I could even dial, it started to ring.

Soren's name flashed across the screen.

I answered, breathless. "Soren?"

"Where are you?" His voice was low, tight, urgent.

"At the hospital. Why?"

"Stay there. Don't move."

"What's going on?"

"Someone's been following you."

My grip on the phone tightened. "I just saw him."

There was a pause, then his tone shifted, sharper, protective. "Did he touch you?"

"No. Just a message. About your father."

"I'm on my way."

"Soren...."

The line cut.

I paced by the parking lot, trying to make sense of it. Why would Victor send someone after me? I wasn't part of their fight. I was just an accident in Soren's plan, a byproduct of his defiance.

A sleek black car pulled up minutes later. Soren stepped out, his suit jacket half unbuttoned, his eyes scanning every shadow before finding me.

"You shouldn't have come alone," I said, my voice trembling despite myself.

He ignored that and reached for my arm, pulling me toward the car. "We're leaving."

"I can't just go. My mom...."

"She's safe. I have people here now. You're not."

His words came out clipped, controlled, but I could hear the undercurrent, fear.

I'd never thought Soren Knight could fear anything. But tonight, his hands shook slightly when he opened the door.

Inside, the silence was thick.

He drove too fast, eyes fixed on the road.

Finally, I said, "It was your father, wasn't it?"

His jaw tightened. "Yes."

"Why? What does he want from me?"

"Not you," he said coldly. "Me. You're just leverage."

"Leverage for what?"

He didn't answer.

"Soren."

He exhaled. "Victor hates public failure. He's going to punish me for it. And if he can't destroy me, he'll go after what I've touched." His hand clenched the wheel. "That means you."

I stared at him. "So what, this is my life now? Your father's shadow following me around?"

"I'll handle him."

"You can't handle everything!" I snapped. "You don't even see what you're doing. You drag people into your world, then act like they're chess pieces you can move around."

He glanced at me, eyes dark. "Would you rather I left you to them?"

I faltered. "No. But.."

"Then stop fighting me," he said softly. "You're safer if you stay close."

The words weren't a threat. They were a plea.

And somehow, that scared me more.

We reached the penthouse after midnight. The lights from the skyline bled into the glass walls, painting everything in gold and blue.

Soren locked the door behind us, checked the windows, then turned to me.

"Are you hurt?"

I shook my head. "Just tired."

He nodded once, then rubbed a hand over his face, pacing. For the first time, he looked human, exhausted, angry, lost.

"You shouldn't have been there alone," he said quietly.

"I needed to see my mom."

"You could've told me."

"And what? You'd have sent a security team? You'd have made a scene. She can't know about any of this."

He stopped pacing. "You're not the only one who cares about her safety."

I blinked. "What?"

He hesitated. "The hospital. The bills. I took care of them."

The air left my lungs. "You did what?"

"It wasn't charity," he said evenly. "It was necessary. They were stalling her treatment."

"You had no right."

He met my gaze, his tone unyielding. "I had every right. You're my husband."

That word again. It landed heavier this time.

I took a step closer, my anger trembling under the surface. "You think money fixes everything, don't you? You think control makes people safe. But you can't buy peace, Soren. You can't buy me."

His voice dropped, low and steady. "Then tell me how to protect you, Adrian. Tell me what you need."

I hesitated. Because under all the anger, under all the walls, his words sounded real.

"I don't need protection," I said finally. "I just need you to stop treating me like a mistake you're trying to manage."

He didn't answer.

We stood there, the silence burning between us.

Finally, he said, "You weren't a mistake."

The words were quiet, almost lost to the sound of the city outside. But I heard them. And they sank deep.

Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, and his expression changed. Cold. Focused.

"What?" I asked.

He looked up. "Nathan just found something."

"What is it?"

"Someone inside the company leaked the video of our wedding night."

My heart stopped. "What video?"

"The chapel security feed," he said. "Someone paid to get it. They're releasing it tomorrow."

I took a step back. "Soren...."

He stood still, his jaw locked, eyes burning. "They want to humiliate me."

"They'll humiliate me," I said quietly. "You'll survive this. You always do. But I....."

He cut me off, stepping closer. "You won't face this alone."

For a moment, I believed him.

For a moment, I wanted to.

But deep down, I knew what tomorrow meant. Another scandal. Another storm. Another headline that would bury me deeper in his world.

And this time, I wasn't sure if I'd come back out.