For a moment, Luca didn't speak.
He just stood there, shoulders tense, jaw tight, eyes flickering with a darkness I hadn't seen before.
I didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
The air in the room felt sharp, like glass waiting to break.
"Luca," I whispered. "What exactly does that mean? Someone knows?"
His gaze snapped toward me.
Not angry.
Alert. Focused. Almost… protective.
"It means," he said carefully, "that the contract was confidential. Only three people have access to it. And one of them just tried to weaponize it."
My stomach twisted. "Against who?"
He held my stare.
"Against you, Amelia."
A tremor shot through me.
My fingers curled involuntarily around the edge of the table.
"But… no one knows me," I said. "No one cares enough to target me."
"That's why it works."
His voice dropped.
"Anonymous women make easy scandals."
My heartbeat spiked. "What kind of scandal?"
His jaw flexed. A muscle ticked near his temple.
"They're trying to paint you as someone you're not," he said. "Someone the board can laugh at. Someone the media can tear apart."
Suddenly my breath was too loud in my own ears.
"But why?" I managed. "I haven't even done anything yet."
"You exist," Luca said simply.
It sounded absurd.
But the way he said it, the quiet certainty sent a cold ripple down my spine.
He started pacing, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The controlled, unshakeable CEO looked… rattled.
That frightened me more than anything.
"Tell me," I whispered. "Tell me who it is."
He paused mid-stride.
His back straightened.
His voice cooled several degrees.
"I won't say names until I'm certain," he said. "Accusations without proof only create more chaos."
"Then what do I do?"
"You stay beside me."
No hesitation.
No room for argument.
I swallowed hard. "Luca—"
"No." He stepped closer, tone firm. "This is the safest option."
Safe.
With him.
The idea felt ridiculous.
And yet…
the moment he stood close, the panic in my chest quieted just a bit.
Still, I couldn't rely on that.
"Is this about your company?" I asked. "Your board? Someone wants to sabotage you?"
His eyes softened, not weak, but vulnerable in a way he didn't notice.
"I'll handle my enemies," he said. "I won't let them touch you."
Heat curled low in my stomach at the protectiveness in his voice, a tone he probably didn't intend to use.
Before I could process it, he turned away, grabbed a sleek black folder from his desk, and handed it to me.
"What's this?" I asked.
"Your new schedule," he said. "Starting tomorrow, you'll attend events as my fiancée."
"Fiancée?" My voice squeaked embarrassingly. "Already?"
"They forced my hand," Luca said. "They're moving too fast. We need to move faster."
I blinked.
Fiancée.
As in… ring, pictures, public appearances.
As in… the world knowing my name.
My face.
My everything.
My throat tightened. "Luca, I'm not ready for—"
"You won't be alone," he interrupted. "I'll guide you through every event. Every introduction. Every camera flash."
His voice softened.
"You'll be fine."
Something about the quiet and reassuring way he said that felt dangerously close to comfort.
Too close.
"Why me?" I whispered before thinking.
"Why not someone from your world? Someone who already knows how to do all this?"
The room stilled.
He looked at me like he wanted to say something he couldn't.
"You didn't flinch," he said finally. "Not when I yelled at the photographers. Not when chaos broke out. You didn't run. You didn't try to impress me. You were… honest."
I bit my lip.
Honest.
Ordinary.
Desperate.
Apparently that was my appeal.
"And," he added quietly, "because if someone hurt you, I would know exactly who to destroy."
Something in my chest stumbled.
"That's… a terrifying compliment."
"That's the only kind I give."
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed again.
He answered.
Listened silently.
Then his expression darkened with something far more dangerous than before.
"Send it to my email," he said. "Now."
He hung up and turned the screen of his computer toward me.
A headline.
A gossip blog.
A picture of me being taken outside the diner, when I didn't know anyone was watching.
And the caption:
"MYSTERY GIRL SPOTTED WITH LUCA MORETTI, GOLD DIGGER OR SECRET LOVER?"
My blood froze.
"Oh my God…"
Luca's jaw clenched so tight I thought it might crack.
"They're starting early," he said. "Earlier than I expected."
My hands shook. "Luca… I didn't do anything. I didn't even know—"
"I know," he said sharply. Then softer: "I know."
I looked at the floor, chest rising and falling too quickly.
"Why are they doing this to me?" My voice trembled. "I'm nobody."
"You're not nobody to them anymore," he said quietly.
His eyes locked onto mine.
"Because you're mine."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Not with romance.
With fear.
With something I didn't want to name.
He stepped closer.
"We don't have the luxury of waiting," he said. "Tonight, you're coming home with me."
My breath hitched. "Home?"
"My penthouse," he clarified.
"The cameras already think you're living there. If you're seen anywhere else, they'll twist it worse."
Worse.
Worse than this?
Than being called a desperate girl chasing billionaire money?
A tremor ran through me.
Luca reached out slowly, giving me time to pull away and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
I froze.
His touch wasn't romantic.
It wasn't possessive.
It was… grounding.
"Amelia," he said softly,
"from this moment on, everything you do is tied to me. Every move. Every word. Every breath."
My heart pounded painfully.
"But I promise you this—"
His voice dropped to a vow.
"I will protect you. Even if it destroys everything else."
My lips parted. "Why?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he whispered one devastating sentence:
"Because someone out there wants to break you before they break me… and I won't let them."