Nova's POV
I didn't sleep. Well how could I?
Not because I didn't want to. Because I couldn't.
The internet kept whispering in my ear, in the voice of millions of strangers who thought they knew me, my life, my choices, my intentions. I watched myself be dissected in real time—my past, my face, my clothes, my worth. And in every article, every thread, every speculative post, one truth remained: I was the punchline of a billionaire's joke.
And maybe... maybe it wasn't even Leon's fault.
That thought scared me more than anything else.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city glowing beneath a lavender dawn. My silk robe felt too thin. My thoughts too loud. My husband, if I could even call him that was still in his office, probably orchestrating another spin strategy while sipping whiskey like it was water.
I should have hated him.
Instead, I hated how I didn't.
The door creaked.
I turned.
Leon stood there, no tie, shirt wrinkled, eyes red. He looked human. Fallible.
"You should get some rest," he said.
I stared at him. "So should you."
He crossed the room slowly. "There's a press conference this afternoon. I want you beside me."
"To what? Smile? Be your decorative alibi?"
His jaw ticked. "To remind them you're not just a headline."
"They don't care."
"I do."
That stopped me cold.
His eyes held mine. No walls. No mask. Just a man trying to keep something from breaking.
"Why do you care?" I asked, whisper soft.
He didn't answer.
Because maybe he didn't know.
Or maybe... he just couldn't say it.
Leon's POV
The PR team lined up their talking points like bullets in a chamber.
"We frame it as revenge," Elise, my head of media, said. "A jilted employee. A breach of confidentiality. You come out as the victim. Nova—"
"Is not the villain," I snapped.
Elise blinked. "That wasn't what I meant."
I leaned forward. "We don't let this turn into a smear campaign against her. If that happens, we lose."
Lose what, exactly?
I wasn't sure anymore.
Control, maybe.
Or her.
If she left, the plan would crumble. But more than that, something in me would snap. And I didn't know how to survive that.
At noon, I returned to the penthouse. Nova was dressed in a simple black dress, her hair pinned, her makeup minimal but flawless. She looked like strength and steel.
"Ready?" I asked.
She nodded. "Let's lie to the world."
Nova's POV
The press room was a madhouse. Flashbulbs. Shouting. Microphones like vultures.
Leon kept a hand on my lower back, anchoring me as we approached the podium.
He spoke first. Confident. Controlled. Spun the story like a master. Breach of trust. Forgery. Legal action pending.
Then came the hard part.
They turned to me.
"Ms. James, did you marry Mr. Hale for money?"
"No."
"Was it arranged?"
"No."
"Do you love him?"
I Paused.
Leon turned slightly, his eyes on me.
The world watched.
And I smiled.
"Yes I do."
Leon's POV
The moment she said it, I felt it.
Like gravity bending.
She wasn't supposed to say that. She didn't have to. We rehearsed a different line. One about privacy. One that deflected.
But she looked into the cameras and told the world she loved me.
And something inside me fractured.
Because part of me wanted to believe it.
Nova's POV
By the time we got back, the internet had turned. A little.
Some praised our grace under pressure. Others called it a performance worthy of an Oscar. But the sympathy had begun to creep in. Enough to buy us time.
Leon stood by the bar, pouring us both a drink.
I took mine.
"Why didn't you stop me?" I asked.
He looked at me. "Because I wanted to hear you say it. Even if it was a lie."
Silence.
Then, like magnets, we were moving. Closer. Closer.
My glass hit the table. His did too.
Then his hands were on my waist. Mine in his hair. Mouths colliding.
It wasn't soft. It wasn't sweet.
It was months of tension, unleashed.
A kiss that felt like a dare.
A promise.
A warning.
Leon's POV
I should have stopped.
But she tasted like defiance and fire. And I was starving.
Her robe slipped.
I caught it.
Her hands gripped my shoulders.
I lifted her onto the counter.
She looked at me like I was a storm she was willing to drown in.
"This changes things," she whispered.
"I know."
"We can't take it back."
"I don't want to."
I kissed her again.
And the lie cracked wide open.
Because the truth was simple:
I didn't want a fake wife anymore.
I wanted her.
Nova's POV
Later, after the storm, we lay tangled on the couch. Bare skin. Bare hearts.
He didn't speak.
Neither did I.
Because if we did, we'd have to admit it.
This wasn't just a contract.
This wasn't just a game.
This was something else.
Something terrifying.
Something real.
And neither of us knew what to do with it.