Victoria cornered me the next morning.
I was carrying coffee upstairs when she stepped from a side hallway and blocked my path.
“You’re good,” she said.
“At carrying coffee?”
“At pretending.”
My stomach tightened.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.”
She leaned against the wall.
“You’ve worked for Adrian for two years. Suddenly, one week before Lucia’s birthday, you become the love of his life?”
“Relationships sometimes develop between people who work together.”
“Not Adrian.”
“You seem very confident about a man you haven’t dated in three years.”
Her expression tightened.
“I know him.”
“So do I.”
“No, Emily. You know his calendar.”
The insult landed because part of me feared she might be right.
Victoria stepped closer.
“Adrian doesn’t fall in love.”
“Maybe he just didn’t fall in love with you.”
Her face changed.
I immediately regretted it.
Not because it wasn’t effective.
Because it was cruel.
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No,” she replied. “You shouldn’t have.”
For the first time, she looked hurt rather than arrogant.
Then the mask returned.
“Be careful. You’re playing a game with a man who doesn’t lose.”
“I’m not playing anything.”
“Then ask him why he really needs a fiancée.”
She walked away.
I stood there holding two coffees.
One for me.
One for Adrian.
I found him in his room fastening cuff links.
His white shirt was open at the collar.
I stopped in the doorway.
“Victoria thinks we’re lying.”
His hands paused.
“What did she say?”
“That I’m pretending.”
“She’s trying to upset you.”
“She succeeded.”
He finished with the cuff link.
“Ignore her.”
“She also told me to ask why you really need a fiancée.”
His face became still.
That dangerous stillness.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Adrian.”
“Emily.”
“You promised rules. You never promised honesty because apparently I was stupid enough to assume it.”
“You’re not stupid.”
“Then tell me.”
He walked toward me.
“This arrangement is about my mother.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
I searched his face.
“You’re lying.”
His jaw tightened.
I put his coffee on the dresser.
“I’m going home.”
“Emily.”
“No. I agreed to lie about a relationship. I did not agree to walk into whatever family or business situation you’re hiding.”
“You’re safer here.”
“That sentence is not helping.”
He exhaled.
“Sit down.”
“I’m tired of being ordered to sit.”
“Please.”
That stopped me.
Adrian Moretti rarely said please.
I sat.
He remained standing.
“My mother owns twenty percent of Moretti Security and Logistics.”
I waited.
“Her shares transfer when she dies.”
“To whom?”
“My brothers and me, equally, unless certain conditions in my father’s trust are triggered.”
“What conditions?”
“One involves control of the company.”
“And marriage?”
His silence answered.
I stared at him.
“You didn’t hire me just because your mother wants you happy.”
“It started that way.”
“Started?”
“My uncle Salvatore is trying to force a restructuring vote.”
I knew Salvatore.
He was Adrian’s father’s younger brother.
Charming in public.
Cold in meetings.
“If my mother believes I have no intention of building a family,” Adrian continued, “Salvatore has been pressuring her to change how her voting rights transfer.”
I stood.
“So I’m corporate theater.”
“No.”
“You are paying me fifty thousand dollars to convince the woman who controls twenty percent of your company that you’re going to get married.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“It sounds extremely simple.”
“I would never manipulate my mother over shares.”
“But you are manipulating her over me.”
His face tightened.
“Yes.”
At least he admitted it.
I walked toward the window.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew you’d say no.”
I turned.
“Exactly.”
“Emily—”
“No.”
Anger rose through me.
“I trusted you.”
His expression shifted.
The words affected him more than shouting would have.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
He looked away.
“Because I’m used to solving problems before they become threats.”
“I’m not a solution.”
“I know that now.”
The room went quiet.
I laughed bitterly.
“Congratulations. That realization only cost fifty thousand dollars.”
I headed for the door.
He caught up but didn’t touch me.
“If you leave, I’ll have a car take you.”
“I can call a cab.”
“No.”
“Stop controlling everything.”
“This isn’t control. Someone threatened my mother yesterday.”
“And you still brought me into this.”
His face changed.
“That happened after you arrived.”
I stopped.
He lowered his voice.
“If I had known there was a security threat Friday night, I never would have asked you.”
I believed him.
That was the worst part.
My anger remained, but it became complicated.
“You should have told me about the company.”
“Yes.”
“No excuses?”
“No.”
“No strategic explanation?”
“No.”
“You’re terrible at apologies.”
“I don’t have much practice.”
“That is not surprising.”
A reluctant smile touched his mouth.
I hated that I noticed.
“What happens now?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You can leave.”
“And your mother?”
“I’ll handle it.”
“And the threat?”
“I’ll handle that too.”
Of course.
Adrian handled everything.
Maybe that was his problem.
I looked at him.
“Tell me everything from now on.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“You’re staying?”
“Until Saturday.”
“Why?”
“Because I made a promise to your mother without realizing I was making one.”
His expression softened.
“And because,” I added, “if somebody is threatening Lucia, you’re going to become unbearable without supervision.”
“I have security.”
“Security doesn’t tell you to eat lunch.”
“You do.”
“Yes.”
He stared at me for a moment.
Then said, “Thank you.”
The rest of the day changed us.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
He included me.
When his security director called, Adrian let me stay.
The warehouse message had been printed on ordinary paper. No fingerprints. Security footage showed a man in a maintenance uniform entering through a side gate using a cloned access card.
The threat might have come from a competitor.
Or someone inside the company.
Salvatore became an obvious possibility.
Adrian refused to accuse him without evidence.
That evening, the family gathered for dinner again.
Salvatore arrived late.
He was handsome for a man in his sixties, with silver hair and a polished smile.
He hugged Lucia.
Then Adrian.
Then he looked at me.
“So this is Emily.”
I offered my hand.
He kissed my cheek instead.
“Adrian has been hiding you.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Salvatore smiled.
“My nephew hides everything valuable.”
Adrian’s hand settled on my back.
Possessive.
Protective.
Maybe both.
Dinner remained pleasant until Salvatore mentioned business.
“Lucia, have you considered the papers I sent?”
Adrian’s fork stopped.
“Not tonight,” Lucia said.
“It’s merely estate planning.”
“Her birthday is Saturday,” Adrian replied. “You can discuss paperwork another time.”
Salvatore smiled.
“You always did dislike conversations about succession.”
“I dislike people discussing my mother’s death while she’s eating lasagna.”
Lucia sighed.
“Boys.”
Salvatore raised his glass.
“No offense intended.”
But I saw the look he gave Adrian.
There was nothing familial about it.
Later, I found Lucia alone in the kitchen.
She was putting leftovers into containers.
“Let me help.”
“You’re a guest.”
“I’m your son’s assistant. Organizing things is practically a medical condition.”
She laughed.
We worked together.
Then she said, “Salvatore wants me to change my trust.”
I froze.
“You don’t have to tell me that.”
“I know.”
She closed a container.
“He thinks Adrian is too consumed by work to build a stable future.”
“That seems unfair.”
“He believes the company needs a family man.”
I almost laughed at the absurdity.
“Marriage doesn’t automatically make someone responsible.”
“Exactly.”
She studied me.
“But Adrian has been lonely.”
My chest tightened.
“Has he?”
“He would deny it.”
“Of course.”
She smiled.
“Emily, may I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you love my son?”
There it was.
The question I had been paid to answer.
I should have lied easily.
That was the job.
Instead, I hesitated.
Lucia noticed.
My heart pounded.
Then I said, “I care about him more than I expected to.”
It was true.
Every word.
Lucia’s expression softened.
“That’s a better answer.”
Before I could respond, the lights went out.
The entire house dropped into darkness.
I heard glass break somewhere.
Then Adrian shouted from the hallway.
“Emily!”
Footsteps thundered.
I reached for my phone.
Before its flashlight came on, a hand grabbed my arm.
I gasped.
“Quiet.”
The voice wasn’t Adrian’s.
I twisted free and stumbled backward.
Then a second hand caught my waist.
I screamed.
A crash exploded beside me.
Someone slammed into the kitchen island.
The emergency lights flickered on.
Adrian stood between me and a masked man.
His face was terrifyingly calm.
The intruder lunged.
Adrian drove him backward.
Security rushed in seconds later.
The man was forced to the floor.
Adrian immediately turned to me.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
His hands moved to my shoulders.
“Emily.”
“I’m okay.”
He checked my face, my arms.
“I’m okay.”
Lucia appeared with Luca and two guards.
“Adrian?”
“I’m fine.”
The intruder struggled.
Something fell from his jacket.
A folded piece of paper.
One of the guards picked it up.
Adrian opened it.
I watched his expression change.
“What does it say?” I whispered.
He didn’t answer.
I took it from him.
There were only six words.
END THE ENGAGEMENT BEFORE SATURDAY NIGHT.
I looked at Adrian.
The fake engagement had just become somebody’s real target.