SOREN'S Pov

"I said I don't want the press near the building," I snapped, my voice echoing through the glass conference room. "If they try again, have them removed. No exceptions."

Nathan nodded, tapping on his tablet, but his tone was sharper than usual. "They're not backing down. Your sudden disappearance after the wedding scandal has made the situation worse. People are wondering if you've... gone soft."

I gave him a look. "Soft?"

"You've been avoiding meetings, missing events, and hiding in your penthouse with your new husband," he said carefully. "The board is starting to notice."

My grip tightened on the edge of the table. "Watch your tone."

Nathan met my eyes, unflinching. "I'm your assistant, not your enemy. But you can't ignore the fact that your father's already moving. Victor's been calling everyone he can. He wants the company back under his control."

That was what truly irritated me, not the press, not the gossip, but the thought of Victor Knight circling like a vulture, waiting for my next mistake.

"Let him try," I muttered, straightening my tie. "He won't get it."

"Then stop acting like you're already defeated," Nathan said. "If you're going to stay married to Adrian Vega, at least make it look intentional."

The name hit me like a quiet jolt. Adrian.

He'd been asleep when I left this morning, curled on his side with the blanket tangled around his waist. There was something strange about seeing someone like him in my space, too bright for the sharp edges of my world. Every time I told myself I'd send him away, I didn't.

Maybe because he didn't treat me like everyone else.

He didn't flatter or fear me. He challenged. He annoyed me. He made me feel, something I hadn't in years.

But that was a weakness.

"I'll deal with it," I said.

Nathan sighed, but he knew better than to push further. "Fine. You have a meeting with the investors at noon. I'll handle the press."

He left the room, and I was finally alone with my thoughts, not that I wanted to be. Silence never stayed quiet long enough around me. It always brought ghosts.

When I looked out the window, I saw the reflection of a man who'd built an empire on control, and suddenly, I didn't feel like that man anymore.

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

By the time I got home that night, the penthouse lights were dim, and the faint sound of a movie played from the living room. I stepped inside, and the smell of something warm, pasta, maybe, hit me.

Adrian sat cross-legged on the couch, a plate balanced on his knee. He looked up, surprised, as if he didn't expect me to actually come home.

"You're back early," he said.

"It's past eight."

"For you, that's early," he said with a small grin.

He wasn't wrong. Normally, I didn't come home at all.

My gaze flicked to the kitchen counter, where two plates were set. "You cooked?"

"I was hungry," he said. "And you didn't leave anything edible here. You seriously live on black coffee and nothing else?"

I ignored his tone and loosened my tie. "I don't have time to cook."

He shrugged, turning back to the TV. "Then it's a good thing one of us knows how."

I didn't reply. I should've walked past him, gone straight to my study, buried myself in work. But my feet didn't move.

"Are you going to stand there, or are you actually going to sit?" he asked without looking up.

I hesitated, then walked over and sat down beside him. The couch dipped slightly between us. The movie, some old comedy, played softly, laughter filling the quiet space.

I didn't care for it, but I found myself watching anyway.

After a few minutes, he spoke again. "You look tired."

"I'm not."

"You lie like you breathe."

My head turned sharply. "Careful."

He smirked faintly. "There it is, the CEO tone. I was starting to miss it."

"Adrian......"

"I'm just saying, you don't have to keep acting like everything's fine." His voice softened. "You got humiliated on live television, your father's trying to destroy you, and you're stuck with a stranger as your husband. Anyone else would've cracked by now."

I didn't answer. I didn't know how to.

Instead, I looked at him. Really looked. He wasn't dressed like someone trying to fit into my world, just a plain shirt, soft hair falling into his eyes, a faint bruise near his jaw from where a camera had hit him during the chaos last week.

He'd been thrown into my life by mistake, but somehow, he fit here better than I wanted to admit.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"That you talk too much."

He laughed, low and easy. "You're welcome for dinner, by the way."

"I didn't thank you."

"You should."

The faintest curve tugged at the corner of my lips before I caught myself.

He noticed. "Was that almost a smile?"

"Don't push it."

He chuckled and went back to eating, but the quiet between us wasn't heavy this time. It was... strange. Comfortable.

And that was dangerous.

Later that night, after he fell asleep on the couch, I stood by the window with a glass of whiskey in hand. The city stretched beneath me, bright, endless, demanding.

Nathan's words echoed again: Make it look intentional.

If I wanted to protect what I'd built, I needed to turn this accident into strategy.

An idea began forming, reckless but possible. If I made this marriage look real enough, long enough, I could control the narrative. Turn scandal into opportunity.

But to do that, I'd have to keep Adrian close. Too close.

I looked back at him. He shifted in his sleep, the blanket sliding down his shoulder. The soft light caught on his skin, the faint rise and fall of his chest.

Something twisted in my chest, something I didn't like.

I wasn't supposed to feel anything. Not for him.

I finished the whiskey, setting the glass down quietly. Tomorrow, I'd fix everything. I'd meet the board, silence Victor, and make the world believe this marriage was my choice.

Because the moment I started believing it myself, I'd lose.

Still, I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.

Maybe Nathan was right. Maybe I was going soft.

The thought made me scoff under my breath.

And yet, when Adrian murmured my name in his sleep, just once, quiet and unguarded, I froze.

For a long second, I couldn't move. Couldn't even breathe.

I told myself it was nothing. Just a dream. Just noise.

But it didn't sound like nothing. It sounded like danger.

Because if he could say my name like that without meaning to...

Then what would happen when he did mean it?

I turned away, forcing my voice back to its usual steel.

"This changes nothing," I muttered to the empty room. "Absolutely nothing."

But the city outside didn't believe me. And deep down, neither did I.

He shifted again, mumbling softly before going still.

I should've left him there, but I didn't. I reached down, pulled the blanket over his shoulder, and stood there for a second longer than I should have.

Then I whispered something I couldn't take back....

"You're going to ruin me, Vega."

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.