Gideon Willis scratched his ear, looking puzzled. "Wait... what's going on? Is there something on my ear?"

Emiliano Mason's voice dropped to a tone that sent a chill down the spine. "Did Mrs. Mason touch your ear earlier?"

"Huh?"

After a beat, Gideon's eyes went wide as he caught on. He shook his head so hard it nearly gave him whiplash, his hand flying up to cover his ear. "No, no—she was just talking to me, I swear. Didn't lay a damn finger on me. She just stood close."

"Good. You just saved your ear."

"..."

Gideon's mind was reeling. Had the boss really been shoved into this marriage?

As soon as that video and the secret social media account hit the internet, public opinion did a complete one-eighty. The crowd that had been roasting Emiliano Mason suddenly swarmed Laylah Vasquez.

— "That guy in the vid is so obviously not Emiliano. Poor Emiliano—what the hell is Laylah trying to pull? I almost broke up with my boyfriend over this mess."

— "Emiliano may have a rep for dating around, but he's not the type to string girls along."

— "Hollywood could never compete with this drama. Chill, Emiliano, your girlfriends got your back."

— "Let's boycott anything with Laylah in it from now on."

— "Emiliano, flex that CEO muscle and blacklist Laylah."

For Laylah, it was a publicity stunt gone horribly, miserably wrong. Emiliano, on the other hand, was suddenly getting an image makeover for his long-running bad-boy rep.

By the time they got back to the family estate after work, Mr. Mason's anger had cooled. He glanced at their marriage certificate, the relief plain on his face.

"Good thing Amaris stepped in. Look at the mess you cooked up. Back in the day, nobody could rein in your reckless ass. Now that you're married, it's time to settle down."

Emiliano looked wounded, like a martyr for a cause nobody got. "It's all for clout, Grandfather. Those actresses will do anything for attention—even fake a damn 'drowning' on a livestream. See how it backfired? They tried to set me up and failed."

"Don't buy it? Ask Amaris."

He smoothly slid the spotlight onto her.

"Indeed, Mr. Mason. That video was shared by a friend at the agency. The whole scandal was a publicity ploy; the drowning act was part of it—they tried to use Emiliano's fame to launch Laylah," Amaris clarified, calm as ever. "This time, it genuinely had nothing to do with Emiliano."

Mr. Mason pounced on the key word. "This time it's unrelated. What about all those other times? Also unrelated? Where there's smoke, there's fire. Ever wonder why your name's always the one that pops up?"

Emiliano puffed out his chest, confident. "Handsome, fit, well-connected, talented, charming..."

He rattled it off easy as breathing, owning every bit of his image.

Mr. Mason let out an exasperated laugh and gave Emiliano a playful kick to the calf. The scolding dripped with affection. "You cheeky little devil!"

"Looks like sticking Amaris on your team was a smart call. She's not just helping you clean up messes—she's keeping a close eye on you. You can't beat my choices. Amaris, if he acts up, you go right ahead and report him to me. I'll straighten him out for you."

Amaris nodded. "Thank you, Grandfather. Helping Emiliano is my job."

"Still calling me Chairman? From now on, it's Grandfather to you."

Amaris hesitated just a second, then gave in. "Grandfather."

Mr. Mason was a respected elder. He'd looked after the Mason family after Amaris's parents passed. Right out of college, she'd joined the Mason Group, working right by his side as his secretary—learning from him, growing under his guidance.

In her heart, even without Emiliano in the picture, she'd long thought of Mr. Mason as a grandfather.

As for Emiliano, she still stuck to "Mr. Mason."

Mr. Mason's gaze slid between his grandson and granddaughter-in-law, reading the subtle tension. Amaris was proud—she clearly didn't approve of his grandson's wild ways. But since he'd already given them one push... why not give another?

"The Mason family already sent over your luggage. So, where's your marital home gonna be? Here at the estate, or...?"

Caught flat-footed, Amaris realized just how fast her uncle's family had moved—probably scared she'd flip-flop.

Emiliano barely shrugged, like he'd been ready for this all along. "My place is big enough and close to the office. I'd rather not uproot."

Mr. Mason didn't miss a beat. "And you're not gonna help your wife move in?"

"Depends if she's willing."

The conversation boomeranged right back to Amaris.

Her luggage was already delivered. Could she really say no?

She bit her lip and mumbled, "Fine."

Mr. Mason sealed it. "No time like the present, then. Start moving today. You two figure out when to go public or throw the wedding. I won't rush you."

After a little more small talk, Mr. Mason shooed them off, not even inviting them to stay for dinner.

By the time they stepped off the estate, night had fallen. City lights twinkled against the darkening sky. Emiliano walked with a damn near bounce in his step, practically ready to burst into song.

He loaded her luggage into the trunk with way too much enthusiasm and even popped open the passenger door for her, his grin just barely reined in. "Wanna grab a bite first, or head straight home?"

No one else was around, so Amaris dropped the act. "Go ahead without me."

Emiliano's protest about not being busy died on his lips when she cut in flatly. "I'm meeting someone. I'll catch up."

Her blunt shutdown sucked every ounce of enthusiasm right out of him. He stood there, speechless.

Under the streetlights, he watched her walk right past his car and flag down a taxi like he wasn't even there. She seemed warmer to the random stranger behind the wheel than she'd ever been to him.

Tch. As if I'm actually into her anyway.

——

Inside a private room at the Starlight Lounge, Amaris cozied up with three of her closest friends. The table was loaded with grilled snacks and cold beer.

She'd just been bumped up from one of the Chairman's secretaries to executive secretary, and they were toasting her promotion.

Serenity Carter, a team lead at the nightclub, was still rocking her work uniform, squeezing in a quick hangout between shifts.

Hazel Wilson, an agent, was the one who'd fed Amaris all the dirt on Laylah.

And then there was Calum Jordan—everyone's favorite guy friend, though exactly what he did for a living was a damn mystery. He just showed up when it mattered.

Their friendship ran deep, back to childhood. They'd survived a few years of being scattered, but distance never dimmed a thing.

Without parents, they'd become each other's family.

Hazel piped up, "Say what you want, but Emiliano is something else. Handsome and oozing masculine energy. Half the actresses in town are dying to get close to him. Clout-chasing aside, who doesn't love a hot guy? I swear I catch myself swooning over his photos all the damn time."

Serenity teased, "Want me to hook you two up?"

Hazel shook her head so fast. "Hell no, I'm not as dumb as Laylah. Emiliano is trouble with a capital T. Admiring from a safe distance is plenty."

— "She got shoved at the airport. It was total chaos, people stepping on her on purpose. She couldn't walk, so I scooped her up and got her the hell out. Was that wrong? She was already injured then, plastering on a brave face through filming. During the whole scandal, she kept trying to clear the air, but Kareem shut down every attempt. After driving back to the city late that night, I basically forced her to finally go to the hospital. She should've been resting, but she kept chasing justice, got hurt again, and ended up in surgery. That's what I saw with my own eyes. God knows how much more truth is buried under all the crap. And last thing—thank you, Hazel Wilson. For two years of sticking by me. I still want to face whatever's coming together. This statement is nothing but my apology and my gratitude. Nothing else matters."

Fans rallied hard behind Calum. Through all the noise, he stood his ground and spoke his truth—for Hazel and for himself.

Some diehard fans at the airport yesterday dumped another video from a clearer angle, finally shedding light on what really went down.

The clip showed it plain as day: Hazel getting deliberately shoved and then trampled.

Public opinion flipped—fast.

In the entertainment industry, secrets had been currency—and Hazel Wilson had had a treasure chest full of them.

"Laylah Vasquez flaunts a revolving door of boyfriends behind the scenes while playing all sweet and innocent. Her burner Instagram is packed with racy selfies, and now she’s dragging Emiliano Mason’s name through the mud. It’s a train wreck waiting to happen."

"Amaris, you came to the right girl today. I’ve got some piping hot tea on Laylah."

Amaris had clinked her glass with a grin. “Thanks to you, I made a real splash on my first day as executive secretary at Mason Group. Dinner’s on me tonight."

Hazel had jumped at the opening. "Well, don’t mind if I do. How about we tack on another order of roast beef?"

Amaris had paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face, before nodding with a tight smile.

The three women had buzzed with chatter, their words flowing in a lively mix of gossip and celebration, while Cal Jordan had played the loyal audience, watching with a warm smile and soft eyes, quiet but present.

Across the city, Emiliano Mason’s patience had frayed in his sprawling penthouse with its killer river views. As the clock had ticked toward eleven, his irritation had simmered. He had snatched up his phone and called his assistant.

"She’s still not back?"

Even through the line, Noah could feel the bite in his boss’s tone. "Mrs. Mason and her friends are still in the private room at Starlight Lounge. They haven’t left yet."

Emiliano had ended the call without another word and immediately dialed Martin Rose. "Martin, shut Starlight down."

Martin had been baffled. "What’s gotten into you?"

"Today. Now. I want it closed."

"Come on, Emiliano, my little bar isn’t exactly a threat to your empire."

"It’s messing with my mood."

The friendship between Martin Rose and Emiliano Mason had run deep. Both heirs to their family fortunes, they had understood each other inside and out, leaving little room for secrets. Martin had been one of the first to know about Emiliano and Amaris’s hushed-up romance back in the day—back when Amaris was barely seventeen, he had teased Emiliano for robbing the cradle.

Now, spotting Noah lingering outside Starlight Lounge to keep tabs on Amaris, Martin couldn’t resist a playful dig when Emiliano called.

"You swear you’re over your ex, but your actions scream otherwise. It’s just your words that haven’t caught up yet."

Sweat dripped down his chiseled jawline, landing on her damp chest. It was an intimate moment that could unsettle anyone.

Her throat went inexplicably dry, and she swallowed hard. "All that sweating in such a short time? You nervous, or something?" she teased.

Emiliano Mason pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, choosing silence. The truth, he feared, might send her running.

As they stepped from the shadows into the light, Amaris Mason's anxious gaze flitted everywhere, never quite settling. He read every flicker of expression, sensing exactly what she was thinking.

"I'm afraid you'll rat me out to Grandfather," Emiliano said, trying to cut the tension.

"What?"

"That I'm keeping you from entering the house."

"......"

"It's your first time here. Thought I'd come down and show you the way. Not like I was just waiting for you."

"Well... thanks, then."

The warm, stuffy elevator made the awkward conversation even more suffocating. Luckily, the ride was short.

The elevator opened straight into the foyer—one unit per floor. Emiliano kicked off his shoes and set her down. "I carried you all the way up here without breaking a sweat, and you call me weak?"

Years had passed, but he still held a grudge.

"Where's my luggage?" she asked, dodging his remark.

Emiliano gestured impatiently. "Do I look like your assistant or something?"

"Of course not. Thanks for the help, Mr. Mason."

Her formal tone made Emiliano want to say a whole lot more, but he decided it wasn't exactly appropriate for their first day living together.

Wanting to dodge any more awkwardness, Amaris asked for the bathroom and quickly excused herself.

Emiliano sighed and headed to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of ice water and downing it to cool his frustration.

When Amaris returned, her hair damp from washing her face, she looked refreshed. This was Emiliano's private space, free from the household staff bustling around the family estate, giving her a sense of freedom.

Studying his unreadable expression, she asked, "Where's the guest room?"

"I don't intend for this to be a platonic arrangement," he quipped.

Amaris shot him a frosty glare, one that could slice right through him if looks could kill.

It was only the first day, and Emiliano wasn't expecting any miracles. If she held back the sarcasm, he'd call it a win.

After a brief silence, he gestured down the hall. "Both rooms are master suites. Mine's on the left. Feel free to knock anytime."

That was his final act of defiance.

Amaris simply replied, "Thank you," and headed to the right with her luggage.

A chill settled over Emiliano. Irritated, he loosened his shirt collar and shrugged off his damp shirt as he retreated to his own room.

An annoying ringtone cut through the air—Martin Rose was calling.

Emiliano answered tersely, "Hello?"

Martin immediately burst out laughing. "Picking up the phone now? Guess you got shut down."

Once the door was closed, Emiliano didn't bother hiding his disappointment. He sighed heavily. "Yeah, so, Martin the Casanova, got any tips for your little brother?"

Martin was taken aback, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Are you seriously asking me for advice? Well, first off, call me 'big bro.'"

"Dream on!"

"Hey, I've known Amaris for years. Maybe I could put in a good word for you."

"In her eyes, you're just like me."

"That's not fair. You're the king of bad boys; I'm just the jester."

"Buzz off. If you're no help, quit bothering me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, these things take time, you know."

"To hell with patience, you jerk!"

With a final curse, Emiliano hung up, ignoring any further calls. Patience had never been his strong suit.

——

The next morning, Amaris arrived early at Mason Group headquarters. As the new head of the executive office, building a good rapport with her team was essential.

The office had two secretaries: Kayden Wilson, who managed meetings and schedules, and Alexis Patel, who handled personal tasks.

A new female chief secretary parachuting into the department was bound to stir up some feelings.

Amaris fired up her computer, planning to review her colleagues' reports before calling a meeting.

An unexpected call from Hazel Wilson interrupted her focus.

"Why the early call?" Amaris asked, a little surprised.

Having just woken up from a hangover, Hazel's voice was hoarse but urgent. "I got a solid tip—someone's out to get you."

"What?" Amaris almost laughed at the absurdity. In a law-abiding society, who would actually act on a grudge?

"Hazel has a wealthy backer named Karl Reyes, well-known in capital circles. Strange that they came after you instead of the real leaker, which makes me think you're being targeted."

"Amaris, maybe you should lie low for a bit."

Calm and collected, Amaris knew little about the darker side of the entertainment industry and wasn't afraid. "No need. I'm safe inside Mason Group—they won't get in."

"But you do have to leave to go home."

At that moment, the office door beeped, signaling someone's arrival.

Lowering her voice, Amaris replied, "I'll handle it. We'll chat later." She ended the call just as Alexis walked in.

"You're here early, Ms. Mason!" Alexis said, pleasantly surprised, holding up a paper bag. "Had breakfast yet? I accidentally got extra—want some?"

"Thanks, but I've eaten."

Going over Alexis's report on Emiliano's dietary habits, one detail caught Amaris's eye: cilantro was listed as his favorite.

Cilantro, a favorite? No way. Emiliano couldn't stand even a hint of it and would have every speck picked out of his food.

Alexis wasn't new to the role. She'd been Emiliano's secretary since he became CEO at twenty-five, earning a rep as Mason Group's "top secretary" for her meticulousness and charm.

Such a glaring mistake coming from the usually meticulous Alexis hinted at a hasty brush-off, and a clumsy one at that.

Amaris watched as Alexis carefully arranged a plate, then delivered it to the CEO's office.

A ten-dollar sandwich, presented with her flair, looked like a hundred-dollar delicacy. True effort, indeed.