"Where is that idiot?"
"Madam? The media is getting agitated. What should we do? Should we postpone?"
"Useless b-stards! Useless! Every single one of them is useless!"
I grabbed the microphone and pushed the assistant twink out of my way.
There's no point in waiting for my idiot nephew. That's why I get for putting my trust in a man.
The room buzzed with tension, cameras clicking before I even stepped fully into the light.
Every seat was taken—rows of reporters, influencers, journalists, all packed tight like they had nothing better to do.
After all, this was not only the love story of the century, but the perfect distraction from what was really happening behind the political curtains.
I scanned their eager faces, eyes wide, fingers twitching over notepads and recorders. They were desperate, practically vibrating with anticipation. I liked that.
