004: Public Relations Necessity

EDEN

“You manipulated him! He's sick, Hayden! He's desperate, and you—"

A sudden buzz interrupts me. Hayden glances at his phone, his expression darkening.

He taps the screen, and suddenly his massive office TV comes to life. My soul leaves my body for the second time today.

Because on the screen, on an actual broadcast, is a photo of me and Hayden from last night, at the reunion. His hand on my back. My terrified smile.

“Breaking news: business mogul Hayden Wolfe announces engagement to longtime family friend, Eden Clarke. The union is said to merge two legacy companies under a new partnership."

My jaw drops. "WHAT. THE. HELL."

Hayden's phones starts pinging like a slot machine with texts, calls, and notifications.

His lips twitch. "Guess the press release went live early."

“Early?!" I shout.

He shrugs, infuriatingly composed. "Damage control mode, then."

“Oh my god, you're actually enjoying this," I breathe, backing away. "You're insane."

“Eden, listen—"

“No! You don't get to explain!" My voice breaks. "You've just turned my entire life into a headline!"

He takes a step forward, and I flinch back, my hand shaking. "You think this is a game," I whisper. "You think you can just fix people's lives by owning them."

“Look, I need a wife, too. My grandmother demands it. Your family's debt gets paid, and I get a wife. Easy."

“Don't you dare make this sound easy," I hiss, angry tears filling my eyes.

The door bursts open before I can say more. A young Indian woman in a black suit stumbles in, breathless.

“Sir, the media's already downstairs. They're asking for 'the couple's' first statement."

“The couple?" I repeat in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me!"

Hayden moves even closer, his expensive cologne flooding my nose. His gaze roams over my face and dips to my lips. My throat goes dry, my heart thumping faster.

“Are you still hung up on prom night?"

He's mocking me to my face.

“I hate you."

“That's fine, sweetheart. Just make sure you smile for the cameras," he smirks.

I’m beyond appalled, a massive headache scraping at the insides of my skull.

Without a word, he walks to his desk, opens a small black box, and turns back towards me.

The moment I see what's inside, my stomach drops.

“You have got to be kidding me."

He doesn't say anything, he just takes my hand and casually slides a ring onto my finger.

It fits perfectly. I feel sick to my stomach.

The flawless oval diamond catches the office light like it's mocking me, throwing little rainbows on the walls while my sanity crumbles.

I stare at it in disbelief. "You—you had this ready?"

He glances up, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth. "You think I'd announce an engagement without a ring, squirrel?"

I gape at him. "You could've half-assed it, at least! I don't know, maybe grabbed something plastic from a vending machine?"

His eyes dart down to my hand. "I don't half-ass things."

I hate that my pulse betrays me right then with a small, traitorous flutter.

He releases my hand slowly, and the weight of the ring feels like a chain.

Before I can think of a suitable way to stab him with a pen, there's a knock on the door.

Hayden's PA pokes her head in again, looking slightly breathless. "Sir, the reporters are ready downstairs. They've set up by the front entrance."

“Perfect timing," Hayden says, because of course he thinks this is perfect. "We'll be right down."

“The PA's gaze shifts between us before she wisely shuts the door again.

Hayden turns back to me with a gentle smile. "You can't go down there wearing that."

I look down at myself, frowning at my jeans and crumpled top. "What's wrong with my outfit? It screams 'hostage chic.'"

He nods towards a garment bag draped over the couch. "That's for you."

I cross my arms. "You bought me clothes?"

“Think of it as a public relations necessity."

“Think of it as creepy," I shoot back.

He smirks faintly. "You'll change anyway."

“I absolutely will not—"

“Eden." His tone softens just a little. "The sooner we do this, the sooner it's over."

That does it. My anger collapses into exhaustion.

“Fine," I mutter, snatching the garment bag. "Turn around."

He moves to sit on the couch, then he leans back and closes his eyes. "Relax, squirrel. I'm not looking."

I grumble under my breath, dragging the zipper down. The dress inside makes me pause.

It's... stunning.

A soft champagne color that probably costs more than my car. Subtle shimmer. Elegant, tailored lines.

I hate it. I hate how beautiful it is. I hate that he somehow picked something that makes me want to cry and scream at the same time.

I undress as quickly as I can, hating that my mind flashes back to the night when Hayden saw me naked back in high school. And the kiss that followed it... And...

My eyes sting with tears as a lump forms in my throat. I can't believe I'm doing this.

I wriggle into the dress, muttering curses under my breath, until I feel the zipper snag halfway up my back.

Bloody hell.

I twist, tug, and nearly dislocate a shoulder, but it won't budge.

“Great," I hiss. "Just great."

“Problem, squirrel?" Hayden asks, and my stomach tightens.

“Shut up."

“Need help?"

I squeeze my eyes shut. "No."

He goes silent for a moment.

“Are you sure?"

I hate him.

I hate that I actually need his help.

"Fine," I grit out. "But no funny business."

He rises to his feet and steps around the couch. When he stops behind me, the air grows ten times hotter.

I feel his warmth before he even touches me, and I have to force myself to close my eyes.

My heart pounds harder at the memory of the way he had slid a cube of ice down my spine that night, his long fingers ending in my...

Fuck.

His fingers brush the base of my spine, steadying the zipper. I go perfectly still.

The sound of it slowly sliding up fills the quiet room. I can barely breathe.

“There," he murmurs, his voice low. "All set."

I turn around, half expecting him to be smirking, but he isn't. He's just watching me quietly with an unreadable look on his face.

How the hell am I supposed to live as his wife after everything that has happened between us?

That question lingers a while later as we stand before the reporters, camera flashing. My chest feels too tight for comfort.

And it reminds me of the way the other students had taken pictures of me wearing nothing but a blanket...and the emptiness in Hayden's eyes while he'd watched from a distance.

A plaything, that's all I'd ever been to him.

“Mr. Wolfe, how long have you and Miss Clarke been together?"

“Eden, is it true you dated someone else just last week?"

“Mr. Wolfe, did your grandmother arrange this engagement?"

I just stand there, my brain glitching.

Hayden, on the other hand, is unbothered. Effortlessly charming. "We've known each other for years," he says, his deep voice carrying over the noise. "This wasn't arranged. It was... long overdue."

My jaw almost drops. Long overdue?

I feel like I'm watching a performance from outside my own body.

A voice from the back suddenly speaks.

“Mr. Wolfe! There's a rumor this engagement is fake. Apparently, it's a publicity stunt to save both companies!"

Every microphone in the place swings towards us.

I can literally hear my heart beating.

I look at Hayden, panic clogging my throat. He meets my gaze, his green eyes darkening. And then, he moves even closer.

“Fake, huh?" he says softly, not breaking eye contact.

Before I can ask what he's doing, his hand slides to the back of my neck.

My breathing catches in my throat.

“Hayden—"

He dips his head, and my world explodes into flames as his lips crash against mine.

My fingers, traitorous as ever, curl into his lapel before I realize what I'm doing. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine before I can prepare myself.

When he finally pulls back, my mind is blank, my pulse going wild.

He turns back to the cameras, and when he speaks, his eyes practically sparkle.

“Does that answer your question?"

My blood boils in my veins.

This is the same person who placed a bet on my innocence, got me pregnant, and made me lose it.

He wants to play a game?

Fine by me.

Smiling for the camera, I lean in to kiss him on the cheek and whisper in his ear.

“You’ll regret this, Wolfie,” I say. “I’ll make sure of it.”