The morning after the interview, Nadia woke to the soft weight of Tom's arm draped across her waist. For a moment, her instincts screamed to pull away, to reclaim distance. But the warmth was grounding, his breathing steady, the faint trace of his cologne in the sheets. She lay still, eyes on the ceiling, unwilling to move first.
It had been easier to pretend when they slept in separate rooms. Now every morning was another reminder: this arrangement wasn't as simple as signatures on a contract.
Tom stirred, his arm tightening slightly. "Morning," he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
Nadia slipped free gently, sitting up. "You should get ready. We both have full schedules."
He opened his eyes, watching her cross to the wardrobe. "That's the first thing you say to your husband in the morning? Not even coffee first?"
She shot him a sharp look over her shoulder. "Don't start."
But his grin was easy, unbothered. "One day, you'll surprise me, Nadia. You'll say something soft, and I'll know you mean it."
Her pulse jumped, but she buried it in cool detachment. "Don't hold your breath."
---
At Verdant headquarters, Nadia threw herself into work. Her engineers were finalizing a new battery prototype, the kind that could cut energy costs by a third if it held up under testing. She focused on numbers, data sheets, test results.
Still, she felt eyes on her—employees whispering in hallways, exchanging glances. The interview had changed everything. To them, she wasn't just their boss anymore. She was part of a power couple, her name tied to Kingsley Hotels in every headline.
It made her skin crawl. She had worked too hard to be known for her mind, not her marriage.
By noon, her assistant Sophie brought in another tablet, face pale again. "Ms. Petrova… I think Blake just made his move."
Nadia took the tablet and scanned the article.
BLAKE ENERGY ACCUSES VERDANT OF MISLEADING INVESTORS.
Her throat tightened. The piece quoted "confidential sources" claiming Verdant's new technology was "unproven and risky." It claimed Vogel's interest was based on inflated promises. It hinted—subtly, but poisonously—that Verdant's deal with Kingsley Hotels was more publicity stunt than business plan.
Nadia's grip on the tablet whitened. "He's trying to sabotage the Vogel deal."
"Yes," Sophie said quietly. "The article's already trending."
---
Tom got the call from one of his board members while driving back from a hotel inspection.
"Blake's gunning for Verdant. The story's brutal. If Vogel pulls out, it could drag us into the mud too."
Tom ended the call and immediately dialed Nadia. She answered after two rings, her voice tight.
"You've read it," she said.
"Yes," Tom replied. "I'm coming to Verdant."
"No. Don't. We can't look like we're scrambling together. It'll feed the narrative."
He gripped the wheel harder. "So what's your plan?"
"My plan," she said coldly, "is to fight him with proof. Data. Results. If Blake wants to claim Verdant's tech is unstable, I'll show him exactly how wrong he is."
Tom exhaled slowly. "And in the meantime?"
"In the meantime," Nadia said, "you keep Kingsley steady. If Blake drags both of us down, we're finished."
Her voice cut like steel. But Tom heard the strain beneath it, the faint edge of fear she was trying to hide.
---
That night, the penthouse felt heavier. Nadia sat at the dining table with a stack of documents, drafting reports for Vogel's team. Tom watched from across the room, glass of scotch in hand, leaning against the window.
"You can't win this with paperwork alone," he said.
She didn't look up. "You don't know that."
"I do. Blake's not just after your investors. He's after credibility. The more defensive you look, the more he wins."
Her pen stilled. "Then what do you suggest?"
Tom set his glass down and walked toward her, placing both hands flat on the table. "We go on offense. Together. Publicly. You present the data, I back you. Make it clear that Kingsley Hotels isn't just investing—we're implementing. If Blake calls you unstable, he calls me unstable too. He won't risk it."
Nadia met his gaze, her jaw tight. "That ties Verdant's survival to Kingsley's reputation. If we fail, we both sink."
His lips curved faintly. "Then we don't fail."
Her chest tightened at the calm certainty in his voice. She wanted to believe it.
---
Later, when the reports were drafted and the city outside had gone quiet, Nadia retreated to the bedroom. She expected Tom to stay in the study, but he followed her in, loosening his tie.
"You're sleeping early?" he asked.
"I need my mind sharp tomorrow."
He nodded, unbuttoning his shirt. She tried not to look, but the sight of his bare chest still sent heat through her veins. She slipped into bed quickly, turning to face the wall.
The mattress dipped as he lay down beside her. For a while, neither spoke. Then his voice broke the silence.
"You don't trust me."
Her shoulders tensed. "This again?"
"Yes." His tone was low but steady. "You trust me in public. In interviews. On stage. But not here. Not when it's just us."
She squeezed her eyes shut. "Because here, the stakes are higher."
He frowned. "Higher than millions in investment?"
"Higher than my company," she whispered. "Because if I let you in here and you break me… I won't recover."
The silence that followed was thick. Then Tom shifted closer, his hand brushing lightly against hers.
"I'm not Blake. I'm not here to take something from you. I just want to be in."
Her throat tightened. Against her better judgment, she didn't pull her hand away.
---
The next day, Nadia presented Verdant's latest data at a joint press conference with Tom by her side. She stood tall at the podium, voice sharp, figures precise. Tom followed with promises of Kingsley Hotels rolling out Verdant technology across multiple properties.
The strategy worked. Headlines shifted again:
PETROVA AND KINGSLEY STRIKE BACK.
VERDANT TECH BACKED BY HOTEL EMPIRE.
Investors breathed easier. Vogel's office released a statement affirming their continued interest.
But Blake didn't retreat. He doubled down.
By evening, new rumors swirled online—claims that Tom and Nadia had staged their press conference as damage control for a failing marriage. Anonymous sources claimed the couple "barely tolerated" each other behind closed doors.
Sitting together in the penthouse, Nadia read the headlines aloud, her jaw tight. "He's not stopping. He'll keep coming until one of us breaks."
Tom reached across the table, covering her hand with his. "Then we don't give him the satisfaction."
She looked at him, her defenses faltering for the first time. Because in his eyes, she didn't see strategy or performance. She saw belief.
And that, more than Blake's attacks, terrified her.
---
Across the city, Richard Blake poured himself another drink, watching the news play in the background.
"Let them fight back," he murmured. "The harder they try to prove themselves, the harder they'll crack under the weight."
He lifted his glass with a smile.
"Every wall falls eventually."