Chapter Four

Dominic's POV

I enter my office and stop at the doorway. Castillo is there, holding this morning's newspapers. He hands me a tabloid with a gilded headline: "Mrs. Blackwood Revealed as Gold Digger." My heart tightens. I turn to the feature. The story says Elena Hart wed me for wealth, cites anonymous sources, and features a blurred picture of her at the charity ball.

I say, "Castillo, bring Percival."

"Yes, sir."

The door closes on Castillo. I pace the room. My desk is expansive and organized. My computer monitor is dark. The sunlight streams through the window behind me. I stare at the tabloid spread across the desk. My mind flashes.

Percival appears in seconds, tie undone, eyes alert. "Sir?"

I nod at the article. "Read this.".

He takes the page and reads it. His brows knit together. "This is libelous. They have no source, no evidence."

I shut my eyes. I remember Elena, alone in the penthouse reading this. I feel something like rage, but more biting. "We must do something."

Percival folds the paper. "What do you want?"

I say, "Call Marcellus."

He nods and leaves. In a few minutes Marcellus Sloane arrives. He is wearing a crisp suit and a practiced smile. He inclines his head. "Dominic."

I set the tabloid aside and recline in my chair. "Marcellus, have a seat."

He lowers himself into the chair opposite me. He clasps his hands together. "What's this about?"

I slide the tabloid across the desk. "You recognize this story."

He regards it, then me. "I had nothing to do with it."

I get closer. "You are dashing, charming, and ambitious. You are also ruthless. You know press."

He shrugs. "I am not your press department."

I press my fingertips together. "If you didn't leak this, then who did? Your closest rival is Elena Hart."

Marcellus's eyes flare. "Elena? Preposterous. She's smiled in public twice. She has no authority here."

I stand and move around the desk. "She is nothing to you. She is everything to me."

He tips his head. "I do not understand your passion."

I stop at his elbow. "You are removed from working on the Astell merger. You are to resign as project lead, effective immediately."

His smile twists. "You can't do that."

I breathe in. "Consider it done. From now on, Percival will handle it."

He shuts the file. "You are making a mistake. She will never fit in our world."

I fix him with my gaze. "You are mistaken."

He stands up and exits. I observe the door thudding shut.

Percival comes back. "Sir?"

I turn around. "Book a press conference. I will do this myself."

He nods. "I shall speak to the public relations team."

I say, "Find out the name of whoever wrote that article. Go to their office with a lawyer."

Percival leaves. I return to the window. The city is beneath me. The river glints. I think of Elena in her bedroom. I think of her shaking hands as she closed the suitcase. I think of her voice at the board meeting. She is fragile and strong all at once.

I take the tabloid again and page through it. Each lie slices more deeply than I expect. I want to protect her, want to step into the light and protect her.

Castillo comes to the door. "Sir, the press are gathering in the lobby."

I nod. "Have them come in."

Seconds afterward, I am confronted with a row of microphones. There are cameras with their flashes lighting up the lobby. Journalists shout questions. I stop and raise a hand. The room becomes quiet.

I say, "Thank you. There are rumors concerning my wife, Elena Hart. There is nothing to them. They are the product of malice defamation. They are untrue. There is nothing to them."

A reporter shouts out, "Mr. Blackwood, who is at fault?

I reply, "We are looking into the origin of these falsehoods. Legal action will be taken. My wife is a well-respected researcher and business partner of mine. Anyone who implies otherwise is hurting her and my business."

A second reporter queries, "Do you intend to file charges?"

I affirm. "Yes. We will pursue those responsible." 

A third reporter yells, "Is this an internal smear campaign?

I look directly at the camera. "No one at Blackwood Industries is above the law. We will apprehend the perpetrator."

I step back. Castillo accompanies me. Reporters continue to yell, but I tune them out. One person occupies my mind: Elena. I have to see her.

My driver drops me at the penthouse. I sprint upstairs two steps at once. The door to her suite is closed. I knock.

She opens the door wearing a gray sweater and pajamas. Her hair is loose, eyes red from lack of sleep. She tenses up at seeing me.

I hold up the tabloid. "Did you see this?"

She looks away. "I did."

I step inside and close the door. I say, "Ignore it."

She trembles. "I can't. My face is on every page."

I turn beside her. "They lie."

She looks at me. "Why?"

I support her cheek. "Because someone is afraid of you."

She places her hand over mine. "I am nothing in that world."

I whisper. "You are my world."

Her eyes well with tears. She squeezes my hand. "Thank you for standing up for me."

I scoop her close. She lays her head on my chest. I can feel her breathing slow on my jacket.

She whispers, "I'm ashamed."

I say to her, "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

She sits up. "I almost want to run away."

I hold her closer. "Not on my watch."

She takes a breath. "Promise?"

I press my forehead against hers. "I promise."

She nods, resting against me. I think of the board meeting, the comma in the clause, the hospital room. She has faced her fears and survived.

I guide her to the sofa. She sits, and I drop to my knees beside her. I remove her shoes and set them aside.

I say to her, "I will not let them hurt you."

She looks up at me, vulnerability and trust in her eyes. "Thank you."

I get up and pace back and forth. "I will issue a restraining order on anyone who reproduces that article."

She catches my hand. "Don't waste so much time on this. I don't want to get you in trouble."

I take her hand. "You don't get me into trouble. You give me meaning."

She flushes. "I never thought I could mean so much to a person like you."

I smile softly. "You mean more than I can say."

She leans her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her.

Later, I sit at my desk sorting through the files for the project Marcellus left behind. I assign the merger to Percival. I compose a memo to human resources to update

the org chart.

Elena stands by the window looking out at the river. I stand beside her. The tabloid is in the trash.

She says, "Will they stop?"