The soft glow of morning filtered through the thick curtains, painting gentle streaks of light across the room. Lila stirred beneath the duvet, stretching languidly before her eyes blinked open. The silence was thick, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioning. For a moment, she lay still, her mind wrapped in that delicate haze between sleep and wakefulness.
Finally, she reached across the bed. Adrian's side was empty—already cold. Of course it was. He was the kind of man who rose before dawn, who measured life by efficiency and routine. With a soft sigh, Lila pushed herself up. She didn't want to face the heaviness of silence, so she reached for the remote resting on the nightstand and flicked on the television.
The screen lit up, and the morning news channel filled the room with chatter. She reached for her water glass absently, but the words she heard froze her hand midway.
"Breaking news: The city's most untouchable CEO, Adrian Wolfe—often called the 'Ice King' in business circles—has been confirmed to be married. The revelation has shocked both the business world and the public, as Wolfe has never once been linked romantically to any woman. Who is the mystery wife who managed to tame the coldest man in the corporate world?"
Lila's throat tightened. Her eyes widened as the banner flashed boldly across the bottom of the screen:
ADRIAN WOLFE, CEO OF WOLFE ENTERPRISES, SECRETLY MARRIED.
Clips of Adrian appeared on-screen—him stepping into sleek black cars, signing contracts with his usual hard expression, brushing past cameras with complete disinterest. And now, beneath those images, the words "Married Man" stamped across the broadcast.
Her chest tightened. So now the world knows.
It wasn't just a contract anymore, not just something quietly shared between the two of them. Their marriage had escaped the privacy of signatures and papers—it was public, exposed, and alive.
Lila hugged her knees to her chest, staring at the screen. A part of her wanted to laugh—imagine, her, Lila Hart, the simple girl who scribbled stories into worn notebooks, now the subject of gossip across the city because of a man she barely understood. But another part of her trembled at the weight of it. She was tied to Adrian Wolfe, and the entire world wanted to know who she was.
Her thoughts were broken by the sound of footsteps. She turned, and there he was—Adrian, immaculate in a charcoal-gray suit, his tie knotted with precision, his hair perfectly combed back. He walked out from his dressing room, adjusting his cufflinks as though the headlines didn't exist, as though the world outside wasn't buzzing with curiosity about him.
His eyes flicked briefly to the TV before landing on her. "You're awake." His voice was smooth, calm, detached.
Lila scrambled for the remote and lowered the volume, suddenly self-conscious. "They… they're talking about you. About us."
Adrian gave a faint, almost dismissive glance at the screen. "Let them." He picked up his watch and slipped it onto his wrist. "The media feeds on what it doesn't understand. They'll speculate, they'll exaggerate. It changes nothing."
But to Lila, it changed everything. She wasn't invisible anymore. She wasn't just living in the shadow of a cold marriage agreement. She was—publicly—his wife.
She pressed her lips together, unsure what to say. "Doesn't it bother you? That they're all… watching?"
Adrian paused in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie, and for a moment, she thought he might ignore the question. But then he spoke, his reflection meeting her gaze through the glass. "I've lived my whole life being watched. By shareholders, competitors, vultures waiting for me to fail. Their eyes don't matter to me. And now—" his eyes shifted toward her, steady and unreadable— "they don't matter to you either. Understand that."
Lila's stomach twisted. It was easy for him to say—he had built armor out of indifference. She was still bare, vulnerable.
Adrian slipped his briefcase onto the chair and walked toward her. His presence filled the room, commanding without effort. He stopped at the edge of the bed, his gaze sweeping over her before settling firmly on her face.
"I've arranged something for you," he said, his tone even, businesslike.
She blinked, caught off guard. "For me?"
"Yes. You're a writer, aren't you?" His voice was matter-of-fact, as though he were pointing out a simple truth. "I've secured you a position with one of the city's most reputable story and scriptwriting companies. They work with major publishing houses, film studios. You'll start there soon."
Lila's breath hitched. She sat straighter, her eyes wide. "Wait—you mean, I'll actually be… working there?"
"Yes." Adrian buttoned his jacket with sharp precision. "It's a place where your stories can do more than collect dust. They have the resources to publish, to adapt scripts into films. If you're serious about writing, this is where you'll prove it."
Her heart skipped. It sounded like a dream—one she had secretly nursed for years but never dared to speak aloud. To write professionally, to see her work come alive beyond her own notebooks—it was everything she'd wanted.
But she couldn't quite reconcile the gesture with the man in front of her. "You… did this for me?" she asked quietly.
Adrian's expression didn't soften, but his words carried a subtle weight. "You're my wife, Lila. I don't half-fix things. If you want to write, you'll do it properly."
Emotion swelled in her chest. Gratitude, yes, but also confusion. He spoke as though it was a transaction, another deal struck. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than obligation—that in his cold, controlled way, he was giving her something precious.
"Thank you," she whispered, almost afraid her voice would break.
Adrian inclined his head slightly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned toward the door. Nathan's car would be waiting, the day already mapped out in his schedule.
But just before he left the room, he paused. His voice was calm, yet there was a thread of certainty in it. "You'll do well there, Lila."
And then he was gone, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hallway.
Lila sat motionless on the bed, the morning news still running in the background. The world was spinning faster than she could grasp—her name tied to his, her marriage no longer private, and now, a chance at the dream she had never dared to chase.
Her fingers curled around the blanket as her heart pounded. Adrian Wolfe was a cold man, unreadable, untouchable. Yet somehow, he was drawing her into a story larger than anything she could have written herself.
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