As Adrian opened the door, I held my breath, unable to see who was standing on the other side due to his large body.
I became tense because of the stiffness in his shoulders and the subtle flexing of his fingers, which seemed to be preparation for a fight.
I edged closer, my heart thumping in my ears. A demanding, clipped voice said, "Adrian Mogul?"
"Yes," Adrian said calmly.
A sharply dressed man with a slim black folder in his hand came into view.
His face was unreadable but professional. "This is for you."
Adrian nodded curtly as he accepted the folder, his eyes never leaving the man's face. "Who sent it?"
The man said in a neutral tone, "I wasn't told."
We stood in the quiet of the entrance as he turned and left without saying anything else. Adrian quickly opened the folder after closing the door.
One document, printed on thick cream-colored paper, was inside. Before his mask returned, I caught the tiniest glimpse of emotion on his face: rage, irritation, and possibly even fear.
"What is it?" Unable to control the tremor in my voice, I asked.
Without saying anything, he handed me the document. The bold letters at the top caught my attention: ** "Notice of Intent to Expose." **
Beneath it, a few lines of text outlined vague threats about "public revelations" and "destroyed reputations," signed with an infuriatingly smug flourish: "A Concerned Party."
The situation didn't sound funny, but I gave a trembling laugh. "It's a joke, right?", I asked trying to give myself hope.
Adrian's mouth clenched. "This is no joke. Someone's playing a game, and they've just raised the stakes.
----------------------------------
By the time we arrived at Adrian's scheduled press conference venue, the dire warning had become as heavy as lead in my stomach.
He hadn't said much during the ride over, just that he'd handle it.
But, the tension between us was evident in the car, crackling like a live wire.
We were met by a wall of flashing cameras and whispering reporters as soon as we stepped outside.
Adrian steadied me as I stumbled by sliding his hand to the small of my back. For a brief, dizzying moment, I forgot why I was here at all because of his hard, confident touch.
As we strolled, he whispered, "Smile." "They're observing."
I tried to ignore the way my heart raced under all of the gaze, forcing my lips into a courteous curve like a newly employed receptionist.
This was more than just a crowd; it was a sea of criticism, with every eye observing every action I took.
Adrian abruptly stopped close to the platform and turned to face me, speaking softly. "Take my lead." He leaned in before I could reply, his lips brushing against my cheek in what seemed to be a kind, personal touch.
But there was a purpose to it—a calculated move to sell the image of a perfect couple. My skin burned where he'd touch me, but it wasn't from embarrassment.
It was just something else, something far more toxic. It was difficult for me to believe that my heart had betrayed me, even if I told myself it was all part of the act.
As Adrian approached the podium with his arm still slackly around my waist, the audience burst into whispers and flashes.
"Good afternoon," he said in a smooth, authoritative voice. "Before we proceed" "I would like to introduce my fiancée, Mia Thompson. She is very important to me."
To be frank I really was fed up with the way he always says that aloud when no one asked him. So I gave him a tight frown to show my disapproval.
Then he looked back straight at me and said, "Smile". Honestly I felt so sick with his carefree attitude already.
My stomach twisted. The lie felt so big, so exposed here under the glaring lights. I tried to remind myself of the deal, of the payoff waiting at the end of this.....well whatever this is. But it didn't stop the guilt from gnawing at me.
Then came Vanessa Carter.
--- With a single look, Vanessa has the ability to make everyone feel unimportant. Her lips' cunning curl and her flawlessly arched forehead both exuded superiority.
After the press conference, she came up to us and said, "Well, well," in a mock-sweet voice. "I never knew we'll get acquainted so soon, Mia. Wow.....such is fate"
The insult was poorly disguised. Adrian responded before me, but my jaw tensed. "As always, Vanessa, your concerns are touching," he responded calmly.
She glanced at me, assessing.
"So, Mia, is it? I'm still wandering how someone of your elegance and pride could end up with my cold and guarded ex-husband? Must be quite the story."
Something inside of me snapped as I listen to her icy words, they weren't so hurting, but I felt I couldn't afford to get my self in a mess..... after all it's barely a week.
In any case, I sat up straight and looked her in the eye. Despite the storm inside of me, I said, "Funny," in a firm voice. "I just had the same question about you."
Vanessa's eyes widened, just a fraction, before she recovered. "Touché," she murmured, her smile wan. "I guess Adrian has a taste for surprise."
I forced a smile of my own and said, "Oh, he does." "And believe me, I'm full of them."
I was surprised by the boldness I always had when facing HIS ex-wife, been acting like a was superman when I knew I couldn't even lift a hand, hmm... So funny.
Adrian's palm tightened a little on my back; I couldn't tell if it was a whispered warning or a sign of approval. Well I didn't care, though. I had a brief sense of control for the first time since this whole thing began.
-----------------
The tension from the day's events hung over the penthouse like a thunder cloud. Adrian moved sharply and purposefully as he poured himself a glass.
At last he broke the silence by saying, "You didn't have to annoy Vanessa."
"Didn't I?" I crossed my arms and shot back. "She was begging for it."
"You don't want her as an enemy."
"And you're not someone I want as a fake fiancé, but here we are." I spoke icily.
His look was dull as he turned to face me. I thought he may argue for a second, but then his eyes softened somewhat. "Neither of us finds this easy," he muttered. But we have to stick together. Whoever's behind those threats—they're counting on us to fall apart."
I hated that he was right. I hated how his words caused my rage to give way to grudging feelings. That wasn't how I roll I was always the bad girl.
Before I could respond, a sharp knock at the door shattered the fragile truce between us. Adrian moved toward it cautiously, his earlier unease returning.
"Don't open it," I muttered.
He pulled the door open just enough to see who was there, ignoring me.
On the floor, in stark contrast to the gleaming wood, was a single envelope. Adrian picked it up and opened it, his face growing serious. Another card with an even more obscure message than the last one was inside: ** "She's not who you think she is." **
Adrian looked at me, mistrust flaring in his eyes, and I gasped. "Mia, who exactly are you?"His voice was dangerously low as he asked.
--- My heart was pounding as I gazed at him.
His question seemed to weigh heavily on me as the room closed in around us.
But then, something shifted inside me. The fear, the doubt—it all burned away, leaving only defiance.
"I could ask you the same question, you know?," I said in a firm, steady voice. "You think I'm the only one hiding something? Adrian, rethink.
He just gazed at me for a time, caught off guard by my audacity.
Then, slowly, a smirk tugged at his lips. "Careful, Mia," he said. "You might just make me like you."
I didn't know whether to laugh or scream, And yeah, I kinda liked him too—dude had that annoying, can't-get-outta-my-head vibe.