Chapter 92 — Trending #WilsonFiancée
Amber woke up to violence.
Not physical violence.
Worse.
Digital.
Her phone buzzed so aggressively against the nightstand that for a second she thought something was wrong with the building.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Buzzbuzzbuzzbuzz—
"…What the hell," she groaned into the pillow.
Silence.
Then—
Buzz.
She cracked one eye open.
Dark curtains.
Soft sheets.
Warmth beside her.
Alex's arm heavy around her waist.
Solid.
Safe.
For half a second, she forgot everything.
No cameras.
No engagement.
No board.
Just warmth and sleep.
Then the phone buzzed again like it had personal beef with her.
"…If that's Camila, I'm firing her," she muttered.
"You can't fire family," Alex said sleepily against her hair.
She froze.
His voice was rough.
Low.
Barely awake.
And unfairly intimate.
Oh.
Right.
They had fallen asleep on the couch last night.
Somewhere between talking and… not talking.
And apparently neither of them bothered moving.
Her brain short-circuited for a second.
Alex Wilson.
Half asleep.
Holding her.
Like this was normal.
Like this was daily life.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
"Your phone," he murmured.
"I know."
"You're vibrating the entire couch."
"That's not me."
"…It is."
She reached blindly for the phone.
Unlocked it.
And immediately regretted being literate.
Notifications flooded the screen.
Instagram — 99+
Twitter — 99+
Weibo — 99+
WhatsApp — chaos
News alerts — chaos
Missed calls — chaos
She blinked.
Scrolled.
Blink blink.
"…Alex."
"Mm."
"…I think the internet is on fire."
He didn't move. "Expected."
"No like… actually on fire."
She opened Twitter first.
Big mistake.
Top trending:
#WilsonFiancée
#AmberGareth
#PowerCouple
#ContractLove
#GoldDiggerOrQueen
#WilsonEngaged
#WhoIsAmber
#WilsonWedding
"…Why are there hashtags," she whispered.
"Because humans are dramatic," Alex said calmly.
She opened one.
Immediate regret.
Thousands.
No.
Hundreds of thousands of tweets.
Photos from yesterday.
Clips of the press conference.
Zoomed-in pictures of her ring.
Slow-motion edits of them holding hands.
One video literally titled:
"The Cold CEO Who Only Softens For Her (PROOF)"
"…What kind of fan fiction is this?" she muttered.
Alex peeked over her shoulder.
"…Accurate," he said.
She elbowed him. "Shut up."
She kept scrolling.
Mixed reactions.
Some were sweet.
Too sweet.
They actually look good together
He never smiles but he smiled at her
This is straight out of a drama
She looks strong, not clingy. I like her
Power couple energy
Her chest warmed slightly.
Then—
The other side.
Of course there was another side.
Gold digger
She trapped him
PR relationship
Contract marriage vibes
Bet she'll disappear in a year
Women like her always chase money
He deserves someone classier
Her smile faded.
There it was.
The poison.
Always there.
Always waiting.
She shouldn't care.
She didn't care.
She absolutely cared.
Her thumb slowed.
One comment stuck.
She doesn't look like the type a man like Alex Wilson would choose.
Her stomach twisted.
Didn't look like the type.
What type was that exactly?
Colder?
Quieter?
Less… her?
The couch shifted.
Alex gently took the phone from her hand.
She frowned. "Hey—"
"You're spiraling."
"I am not."
"You read the same comment three times."
"…I hate that you notice everything."
He locked the screen.
Set it aside.
Then pulled her closer.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like this wasn't new.
Like they'd been doing this forever.
"People project," he said quietly.
"Meaning?"
"They don't know you. So they invent you."
She stared at his chest.
"…They don't think I fit with you."
"They don't think anyone fits with me."
"That's not comforting."
"It's true."
He tilted her chin up slightly.
Made her look at him.
"You think I'd choose someone because they 'fit' expectations?"
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
"…No."
"I chose you because you don't."
Her heart skipped.
"You argue with me. You challenge me. You don't flatter me. You don't need me."
His thumb brushed her cheek slowly.
"And you still stay."
God.
That word again.
Stay.
Why did he keep saying it like that?
Like it meant everything?
"…You're very annoying this early in the morning," she muttered.
"Good."
"…Also romantic. Which is worse."
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his phone buzzed.
Once.
Twice.
Then nonstop.
He glanced at it.
Jaw tightening.
"Let me guess," she said. "World ending?"
"Board."
"Ah. Corporate hell."
"They want an emergency meeting."
"Already?"
"Yes."
She groaned. "Can't they let us be engaged for like six hours first?"
"No."
She rolled onto her back dramatically. "I hate rich people."
"You are rich."
"Different rich. Fun rich."
He stood.
Already shifting back into CEO mode.
Cold.
Composed.
Untouchable.
It was always fascinating how fast he switched.
Like two different men lived inside him.
She sat up.
Watched him button his shirt.
Fix his cuffs.
Tie perfectly straight.
Armor back on.
The soft morning version of him disappearing.
And suddenly—
She didn't like that.
"…Hey," she said quietly.
He looked at her.
"What?"
"Are they going to give you hell?"
"Yes."
"…Because of me?"
Silence.
Too long.
Her stomach dropped.
Then—
"No," he said firmly.
"Alex."
"They would've found something anyway."
"That's not what I—"
"They're using you as an excuse. Not a cause."
He walked back over.
Stopped in front of her.
Lifted her hand.
Brushed his thumb over the ring.
"If anyone thinks you're a weakness," he said softly, "they're about to learn how wrong they are."
Her pulse kicked.
"You sound scary."
"I am."
"…Hot, but scary."
He exhaled lightly.
Then—
Without warning—
He bent down.
Kissed her forehead.
Soft.
Quick.
Intimate.
"I'll be back by evening," he said.
Her brain lagged.
Because that felt dangerously close to domestic.
Like a husband leaving for work.
Like something permanent.
Like something that could break her if she wasn't careful.
"…Okay," she said quietly.
He paused at the door.
Looked back.
Just once.
"…Don't read the comments," he added.
"No promises."
"Amber."
"…Fine."
The door shut.
Silence filled the penthouse.
She stared at it for a long second.
Then at her phone.
Then at the ring.
Then back at the door.
"…What have we done," she whispered.
But the smile creeping onto her face betrayed her.
Because despite the chaos.
Despite the pressure.
Despite the world watching—
For the first time in her life…
She didn't feel alone fighting it.