Amira stirred before the light had fully broken through the curtains, her body pressed against Idris's. The warmth of his chest behind her, his steady breathing brushing against her neck—it felt surreal. Safe. Like the chaos of the past weeks had been wiped away with a single night of honesty and peace.
She turned slowly in his arms, careful not to wake him. His face in sleep was even more vulnerable than she imagined. No furrowed brows, no clipped tones. Just a man stripped of all defenses. A man she had come to love more deeply than she dared admit before.
Her fingers brushed his jaw lightly, memorizing the angles of his face in the early morning light. For all his power, his influence, Idris was just human. And hers.
A soft smile touched her lips, but as she shifted slightly, his eyes opened.
"You're staring," he said, voice hoarse from sleep, but with the ghost of a smile.
"I am," she replied with no guilt. "You don't always let me see this version of you."
He raised a brow. "Sleeping me?"
"No. The peaceful you." Her voice softened. "The one who doesn't carry the world on his shoulders."
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "That version only exists when you're near."
Amira flushed. It was ridiculous how easily he could melt her defenses now, how quickly his words turned her insides to mush. She tried to look away, but he gently cupped her chin and brought her eyes back to his.
"Don't look away. Not from me."
She nodded, caught in the sincerity of his gaze.
A beat passed, then he asked, "Do you have any regrets about last night?"
She shook her head. "None. But I do have one question."
"Anything."
"Where do we go from here? I mean… the threats, the media, the family pressures. We've only just managed to find this moment. How do we protect it?"
He paused, then sat up slightly, the duvet falling to his waist. Amira followed suit, pulling the sheet around her chest.
"We build something real," he said slowly. "Not just in public. Not just a show. A real foundation. We cut off what's toxic. Protect what matters. The rest… we deal with as it comes."
She watched him. "That sounds like someone who's planning to keep me in his life."
"I'm not planning. I've decided." He turned to face her fully. "I want you, Amira. In every part of my life. The boardroom. The house. My future."
Her heart skipped. "That sounds dangerously close to a proposal."
His lips twitched. "Would you run if it was?"
She pretended to consider. "Depends. Would it come with a prenup that says I get your secret wine stash?"
He laughed, a rich, full sound that filled the room and made her grin.
"You can have the wine," he said, pulling her close again. "But only if I get this—" his hand rested on her heart "—forever."
She nodded slowly. "Then we have a deal."
They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in quiet understanding. But soon, reality called. His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He ignored it at first, until it buzzed again. And again.
With a reluctant sigh, he reached for it and frowned at the screen.
"What is it?" Amira asked, sensing the shift in his demeanor.
"A news alert. And several missed calls from Kamal."
She sat straighter. "Is it serious?"
He opened the message and scrolled, eyes narrowing. Then he turned the phone so she could see.
A headline flashed: "CEO Idris Aladeen Spotted With Mysterious Woman—Is This the End of His Bachelor Image?"
Below it was a blurry photo of them entering the restaurant last night. Another one showed them laughing at the table.
Amira's stomach dropped. "It's out."
Idris nodded. "And it's spreading fast. Kamal says the PR team is in chaos. Half the shareholders are asking questions."
She swallowed. "I guess we should've expected this."
"I did," he admitted. "But I hoped we'd have more time."
Amira took a breath. "Do you want me to lay low? Leave town for a while until it dies down?"
He looked horrified. "Absolutely not. You're not hiding, Amira. Not anymore. You're not a mistake to be covered up."
"But the backlash—"
"Let it come," he said firmly. "I'll face it. We'll face it. Together."
She exhaled slowly. "You're really not afraid?"
He paused. "I'm afraid of losing you. That's all."
A small knock at the door interrupted them. Idris threw on a robe and answered. It was Kamal, his ever-efficient assistant, looking flustered but determined.
"Sir, apologies for the intrusion. But this can't wait."
Idris stepped aside and gestured for him to speak.
"The board has scheduled an emergency video meeting for noon. Investors are demanding answers. And there's a press conference request."
Idris nodded once. "Tell them I'll speak. But I won't explain myself. I'll make a statement."
Kamal hesitated. "And Ms. Amira?"
"She stays. She's not the scandal. She's the future."
Amira stood, touched by the firmness in his voice.
Kamal nodded, then slipped away, leaving them in the growing tension.
Amira moved toward Idris. "Are you sure about this?"
He turned to her. "I'm done hiding. This is our life now. And anyone who can't accept it doesn't belong in it."
She leaned up and kissed him softly. "Then let's face it."
The hours passed quickly as preparations began. The staff prepped the living room for the virtual call. Idris dressed in his trademark tailored suit, but Amira noticed he left the top button open and skipped the tie—his subtle rebellion against the corporate mask.
She wore a soft cream blouse and black trousers, her hair down, her expression calm but resolute. She would not be painted as a scandal. Not anymore.
At noon sharp, the screen flickered to life. Faces filled the screen—shareholders, board members, executives. Murmurs began the moment they saw Amira at Idris's side.
He raised a hand. "Before we begin, let me be clear. What I say now is not up for debate."
The murmurs hushed.
"The woman beside me is Amira Danso. She is not just someone I'm dating—she's someone I trust, respect, and plan to build a life with. If my personal life causes discomfort, I understand. But I will not apologize for choosing happiness."
There was silence. Then someone unmuted. "Mr. Aladeen, this is highly unorthodox."
"Good," Idris said smoothly. "Orthodoxy has never built empires. And this company—my company—was built by someone who isn't afraid to challenge expectation."
Another voice: "What about image? Investors are concerned."
"I am the image," Idris replied coolly. "And if my image is that of a man who values loyalty, integrity, and love—then that's a brand I'll stand by."
Amira watched him with awe. Every word he said reaffirmed what she already knew. This was no longer just the cold-hearted CEO. This was a man stepping into his truth.
When the call ended, Idris turned to her.
"Well?" he asked.
She smiled. "You didn't just protect me. You claimed me."
"I told you," he whispered, brushing her hair behind her ear. "You're not going anywhere. Not now, not ever."
Amira didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until the room returned to silence, the screen now blank. She let it out slowly, her shoulders relaxing as the tension drained from her body. She glanced at Idris, who remained still for a moment, as though processing the full weight of what he had just done.
"That was… powerful," she said, her voice soft.
He turned to her, his eyes unreadable for a beat. Then, slowly, he walked toward her, stopping just inches away.
"I meant every word."
"I know you did," she said, meeting his gaze. "But now they do too."
He touched her hand gently. "I wanted them to know that you're not just someone in the background of my life. You're at the center of it."
Her heart stuttered at his words. There was a time when she thought she'd never see this side of him again—if she'd ever truly seen it at all. But now, standing here in the aftershock of his public declaration, she knew something had shifted. Not just in him. In them.
The door opened again and Kamal peeked in. "Sir, I've drafted a statement for the press. I can tweak the language to reflect the position you took in the board meeting."
Idris nodded. "Let's keep it direct. No apologies. Just facts."
Kamal's eyes darted to Amira, then back to Idris. "There's also… some reaction already. Social media is erupting. It's mostly speculation, some criticism. A few tabloids are dragging her background into it."
Amira stiffened slightly, but Idris's hand closed around hers.
"I expected worse," she said, forcing a calm smile.
"You don't have to pretend it doesn't sting," Idris murmured.
"I'm not pretending. I'm choosing not to give them power."
He looked proud. "I'll have our legal team monitor the content. Anything that crosses a line gets pulled. You don't deserve that noise."
Kamal added, "Would you like to approve the public release before I send it?"
"Let Amira see it first," Idris said. "If she's not comfortable, we don't release it."
Kamal gave a respectful nod and exited again.
Amira stared at him, unsure how to put into words what was bubbling in her chest. "You're… not the man I met in that office on the first day."
He raised a brow. "That man was an idiot."
She laughed. "A powerful idiot."
He smirked. "Don't forget arrogant."
"And cold."
"And emotionally constipated," he added dryly.
She burst out laughing, surprised by the ease between them. "You said it, not me."
He pulled her into a loose hug. "I've been a lot of things. But I'm learning. And for once, I want to learn not because it benefits my business—but because I want to be better for you."
She rested her head against his chest. "Then we're both learning. Because I've been afraid to believe anyone could choose me over convenience. But you did."
He tightened his arms around her. "I'd choose you a hundred times. Even if it costs me everything."
They stood like that for a while, letting the silence say the things their words couldn't. Eventually, Idris pulled back just enough to look into her eyes.
"I know it won't be easy. There'll be whispers, headlines, maybe even a few betrayals along the way. But I'd rather face all of that with you than pretend I don't care."
Her throat tightened. "Then let's take it one day at a time. But together."
He leaned in and kissed her forehead, sealing the promise between them.
Later that afternoon, Amira stepped into the sunlit garden at the back of Idris's estate. She needed a moment to herself. To think. To breathe.
The roses were in bloom, their fragrance sweet and calming. She sat on the bench by the fountain, letting the sound of trickling water soothe her nerves. Her phone buzzed, and she hesitated before checking it.
It was Zara.
She opened the message: "Saw the press. So it's official now? I'm proud of you. Call me when you can. And tell Mr. CEO to stop hiding you like you're some secret weapon."
Amira smiled. Even though the media storm was growing, it felt good to have people in her corner.
Footsteps crunched softly on the gravel path behind her. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"You always find me," she said without looking up.
"I will, every time," Idris replied, taking a seat beside her. He handed her a small box wrapped in deep blue paper.
"What's this?"
"Open it."
She raised an eyebrow but obeyed. Inside was a delicate bracelet, gold with a tiny charm in the shape of a lock.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, brushing her thumb across the charm.
He took her hand and gently fastened it around her wrist. "Because you've unlocked something in me I didn't know was there."
Her eyes stung. "You're getting too good at this."
He shrugged. "You're inspiring."
She leaned against his shoulder. "If we make it through this, you realize people are going to start calling us a power couple."
He chuckled. "Good. Let them. They won't know you're the one with all the real power."
She grinned. "As long as you remember that."
They sat together as the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. It was the kind of day that felt like the beginning of something new.
And maybe, just maybe, it was.
Amira stirred awake to the scent of freshly brewed coffee and something sweet wafting through the air. For a moment, she simply lay there, cocooned in soft sheets, her limbs tangled with Idris's. His arm remained draped over her waist, his breathing steady and warm against the back of her neck.
She shifted slightly, and his grip tightened instinctively.
"Where do you think you're going?" he murmured, his morning voice gravelly and rich.
She smiled. "To see what that heavenly smell is."
"You'll have to get past me first," he said, tightening his hold playfully.
She twisted in his arms and faced him, brushing a finger down the slope of his nose. "You're unusually clingy this morning, Mr. CEO."
"I'm trying to enjoy the last few minutes before your phone rings and the world tries to steal you away again."
"I could say the same for you."
He sighed. "Point taken. But today, I want us to take it slow."
She blinked. "You? Taking it slow?"
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes. Starting now."
He leaned in, kissing her softly, deeply, like he had all the time in the world. Amira melted into the warmth of his mouth, her fingers curling into the cotton of his shirt. The kiss lingered, unhurried, and when they finally pulled apart, both were breathless.
"That… was a very good start," she said, cheeks flushed.
"Good. Because I made breakfast too."
"You? In the kitchen?" she laughed.
He smirked. "With supervision. Your favorite pancakes, almond syrup, and fresh strawberries. Don't get used to it—I nearly set the kitchen on fire."
She raised a brow, impressed. "Now that's love."
They got dressed and headed downstairs, the air in the house light and almost unfamiliar. The tension that once shadowed the corners of every room had been replaced with a sense of ease neither of them had expected to find.
The dining room table had been set beautifully. A tall vase of tulips stood at the center, and the aroma of warm pancakes and caramelized butter filled the air.
Amira gasped softly. "Did you do all this?"
Idris gave a sheepish grin. "With a little help from Layla. She was very clear about how not to ruin her kitchen."
Amira walked to the table, running her fingers over the polished surface and then lifting a strawberry. "I'm seriously impressed."
"Good," he said, pulling out a chair for her. "Because I'm not just wooing you. I'm learning how to show up."
They sat, and for a while, ate in comfortable silence. Amira stole glances at him, wondering how long this version of Idris would last. The vulnerable one. The one who actually paused long enough to make pancakes and listen.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, catching her gaze.
"That I like you like this."
His expression softened. "Like this?"
"Relaxed. Real. Not hiding behind the CEO armor."
"I'll still have to wear it sometimes."
"I know," she said, reaching across the table. "Just don't forget to take it off when you're with me."
He squeezed her hand. "I won't."
Just then, her phone buzzed on the counter. She sighed. "Reality calling."
He grabbed it and handed it to her. "Ignore it."
She glanced at the screen. It was Zara.
"I have to take this," she said, kissing his cheek quickly before answering. "Hey, Zara."
"Girl, are you watching the internet? Because your man just broke the internet with that boardroom speech yesterday. There are hashtags. Hashtags!"
Amira laughed. "I haven't even checked yet."
"Well, you should. Because apparently Idris Khalid is now 'Husband Goals' and 'Soft CEO.' I swear, the fan edits are wild. There's even a slow-motion version of him saying your name."
She blinked. "Seriously?"
"I'm telling you, people are obsessed. It's like watching a real-life K-drama. Except the female lead is actually winning."
Amira glanced at Idris, who was now sipping coffee and pretending not to listen.
"I'll check it out later," she said, smiling.
"You better. Oh, and one more thing. I got a message from one of the producers at CityTalk. They want to feature you. Just you. No Idris. They're calling it a segment on 'Women Behind Power.'"
Amira sat up straighter. "Me? Why?"
"Because you're brilliant, that's why. You've been behind the scenes, working on real campaigns. You're not just the CEO's wife."
She bit her lip. "I'll think about it."
"Don't overthink it. Just say yes. You've earned this."
After hanging up, she looked at Idris. "CityTalk wants to interview me."
"Then say yes."
"You're not worried they'll drag your name through it?"
"I trust you to represent yourself. And us. Besides, it's time people heard your story too."
Something settled in her chest. Confidence. Permission. Support.
That afternoon, Amira stood in front of her mirror, trying on different outfits for the interview. Idris stood nearby, arms crossed, watching her with a mixture of admiration and amusement.
"You're acting like this is your first big event," he teased.
"It feels different. Before, I was the woman who worked quietly behind closed doors. Now, I'm… someone people are watching."
"You always were someone worth watching."
She looked at him through the mirror. "Don't make me cry and ruin this makeup."
He walked over and gently adjusted the sleeve of her blouse. "Then let me say one thing before you go: no matter what the world sees, I see you. The woman who stood by me when I didn't deserve it. The woman who challenges me to be better."
Her breath caught.
"And after today, they'll see what I've always known—you were never behind me. You were beside me, leading."
She hugged him tightly. "Thank you."
When she arrived at the studio later, the nerves hit her all at once. Lights. Cameras. A full crew. But as she took her seat across from the host and the questions began, something clicked.
She spoke of her journey, her career, her values. She didn't mention Idris until asked. And when she did, it was with measured grace and quiet pride—not as a woman riding on someone's reputation, but as someone who had found a partner who finally saw her light.
By the end of the interview, the host leaned forward.
"You're not just a CEO's wife. You're a force of your own."
Amira smiled. "I like to think so."
When she stepped outside the studio, Idris was waiting by the car. He opened the door for her, pride glowing in his eyes.
"You watched?" she asked, sliding in.
"Every second," he said. "You were brilliant."
She leaned her head against the window as the car pulled away. "It felt good. To be seen."
"You're not just seen, Amira. You're unforgettable."
And for the first time in a long time, she believed it too.