The news broke on a Tuesday morning. Nadia walked into her office at Verdant Power and found her assistant staring at a glowing screen.
"Ms. Petrova," the assistant stammered. "It's everywhere."
Nadia leaned over her shoulder. Headlines filled the page:
ECO-CEO'S SURPRISE WEDDING TO HOTEL TYCOON.
GREEN DEAL OR GREEN LOVE? QUESTIONS SURROUND THE PETROVA-KINGSLEY MARRIAGE.
Her stomach dropped. "Who leaked this?"
"No idea. But the media's circling."
Nadia straightened, forcing her voice into control. "Cancel everything. No meetings today without my approval."
She called Tom immediately. He answered on the second ring, his tone calm. "You've seen it."
"Of course I've seen it. The press is tearing us apart already."
"Then we give them something they can't tear," he said simply. "Lunch today. Public. Photographed."
Nadia blinked. "You want to feed the fire?"
"I want to control it."
---
By noon they were seated at a window table in a crowded Mayfair restaurant. Cameras lined the street outside, flashes popping against the glass.
Nadia kept her spine straight, her smile careful, every movement measured. She hated the attention, but Tom was infuriatingly at ease. He leaned back in his chair, made quiet jokes to her between bites, poured her water before his own.
"You're enjoying this," she muttered.
He met her eyes. "I'm enjoying being seen with you."
She looked away quickly, heat rising in her cheeks.
---
As they left the restaurant, reporters swarmed.
"Is the marriage a merger or a romance?" one shouted.
"Was this a business strategy?" another pressed.
Nadia opened her mouth, but Tom's arm came around her shoulders. He pulled her close, shielding her from the crowd. "No comment," he said firmly, guiding her into the waiting car.
Inside, Nadia sat rigid, his arm still around her.
"You didn't have to do that," she said tightly.
"Yes, I did," Tom replied. His eyes softened. "They'll eat you alive if you let them."
She looked at him then, really looked, and something unsettled her. Because beneath the charm, beneath the strategy, his concern didn't feel staged.
---
Back at Verdant, Nadia found another problem waiting. Her legal counsel handed her a document.
"Swiss investors want confirmation the marriage is genuine," he said. "They're demanding a joint interview. Tomorrow."
Nadia felt her pulse spike. "Interview? With who?"
"The Financial Herald. Live broadcast."
Her mind spun. Public scrutiny was one thing. A live interview was another.
She pressed her hand against the desk, steadying herself. "If we slip—if we contradict—everything collapses."
The lawyer nodded grimly. "Exactly."
---
That night in the penthouse, Nadia paced the living room. Tom watched her from the sofa, tie loosened, drink in hand.
"Sit down," he said.
"I can't. Tomorrow could destroy both companies."
"Then let's make sure it doesn't."
She stopped pacing. "You talk like this is easy."
"It's not easy. But it's us. We've got this."
The certainty in his voice rattled her. She wanted to believe him, but the risk loomed too large.
Still, when he reached out his hand, she surprised herself by taking it.
For the first time, Nadia admitted the truth—her fear wasn't only about the investors.
It was about how convincing this marriage was beginning to feel.