Chapter 5: Public Lie, Private Lines

The elevator doors sealed with a soft hiss.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Lila held Eli tight against her shoulder while the numbers climbed through floors of glass and silence. Dominic stood opposite her, jaw locked, his reflection fractured in the mirrored wall. The air between them buzzed with everything unsaid, the contract, the lie, the ninety days binding them together.

Security officers rode with them, rigid and silent.

When the elevator reached the penthouse, Dominic gestured for the guards to remain outside.

The doors slid shut again, isolating them from the tower.

The suite was enormous, with polished stone, quiet light, and the glittering sprawl of the city. It should have felt safe.

Instead, it felt like a cage with a beautiful view.

Dominic turned toward her.

“You should sit.”

Lila ignored him, placing Eli gently on the couch.

“Don’t tell me what to do. Not after today.”

He exhaled, slow and tight.

“I’m trying to thank you.”

“For trapping me in your penthouse?”

“For keeping me from losing everything,” he said, voice controlled, but his fingers flexed as if the words hurt. “You didn’t have to sign.”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

Her voice wavered despite her will.

“I did it because they said they’d take my son.”

Dominic stepped closer.

The quiet of the room drew their argument into something intimate—breath, pulse, tension, and swallowed it until it became a whisper of breath and heartbeat.

“You think I don’t understand that kind of fear?”

“You’ve never had anything taken from you,” she said. “You were born with this world.”

“I lost six years of my life,” he shot back.

“Memories. People. Maybe…” His voice dipped. “Maybe you.”

She hadn’t expected him to say it.

Maybe you.

Eli stirred on the sofa, and the moment cracked.

Lila stepped back, looking anywhere but at Dominic.

“It’s only ninety days,” she whispered. “Then I’ll be gone.”

Dominic’s hand brushed the back of the sofa, close enough to touch her, but not quite.

“You say that like you believe it.”

Before she could respond, his phone buzzed.

He answered sharply.

“Ashby.”

Meredith’s clipped voice bled through the receiver.

“The press is at the tower entrance. The contract already leaked. We need a joint statement within the hour.”

Dominic stiffened.

“Who leaked it?”

“Unknown,” Meredith said. “But they used internal images. Someone inside the building.”

The line cut.

Dominic slowly lowered the phone, turning toward Lila.

“They’re downstairs. Cameras, reporters, all of them.” “They are waiting for us.”

“I’m not going out there.”

“You have to,” he said. “If you don’t, the narrative turns against us. I know you know what the outcome will be. We have to look united.”

“United?”

She let out a brittle laugh.

“We can’t even stand in the same room without arguing.”

“Then we’ll argue later.”

“Oh! Really? I don’t blame you; I blame myself for allowing you to subject me to an article of control.”

This time around, he ignored her.

He slipped on a black suit jacket, movements crisp and practiced.

His gaze brushed over her, the wrinkled blouse, the streak of dust on her cheek, and her disheveled hair.

“There’s a stylist in the next room. She’ll help you.”

“I don’t need…”

“You do,” he said quietly. “They’ll eat you alive otherwise.”

Something in his tone, protective, almost pleading, made her stop fighting.

She disappeared into the adjoining room.

When she returned, her hair was smooth, her cheeks warmed, and a simple dark dress made her look steadier than she felt.

Dominic’s gaze lingered longer than she expected.

“You ready?”

“No,” she said. “But I’ll do it anyway.”

They descended in silence, escorted through a side corridor until the lobby exploded around them: cameras, flashes, microphones, chaos.

Lila’s heart slammed against her ribs.

“Stay close,” Dominic murmured.

She almost snapped back, but then his hand settled lightly at the small of her back, steadying her against the crush of bodies. The warmth of his touch startled her more than the shouting.

Reporters hurled questions:

“Is the engagement real?”

“Who is the boy, Mr. Hale?”

“Did Ms. Monroe leak internal files?”

Lila flinched as her name sliced through the noise.

Dominic shifted slightly in front of her, shielding her from the assault of lenses.

He spoke first, tone calm and unshakeable.

“There was a coordinated attack on Hale Enterprises. We’re investigating. My priority is the safety of my family.”

The word family detonated in the crowd.

Flashes exploded faster.

Lila’s breath caught.

A journalist shouted,

“Mr. Hale, sources inside your company say the breach originated from someone in your executive circle. Care to comment?”

Dominic’s expression darkened.

“If that’s true, they’ll be found.”

Another voice rang out, sharp and female:

“When did you plan this announcement? We received the contract details before Ms. Ashby reached the lobby.”

Lila’s eyes snapped up.

Before Meredith even left the security hub.

Someone inside had leaked the contract.

Dominic’s hand tightened slightly at her back.

To the cameras, it looked affectionate.

To her, it was a warning.

He bent his head toward her, lips unmoving, speaking through his smile.

“Someone knew this would happen. And they’re still inside this building.”

Flashbulbs burst white across their faces.

Lila swallowed, forcing herself to smile for the cameras.

Then something shifted at the back of the crowd.

A single figure, with no camera, microphone, or press pass, stood apart.

Watching her.

Watching Dominic.

Watching Eli.

When Lila met their eyes, the figure turned and disappeared into the bodies and lights.

Her pulse jumped.

“Dominic,” she whispered, but he was already turning toward another question.

The noise swelled again.

And somewhere high above them, far out of sight, a red security light flickered onscreen in a hidden control room:

PENTHOUSE LEVEL ACCESS: OVERRIDE IN PROGRESS