Love at first sight

“I assume you already got the script?” Leon asked as she slid into the car.

“You didn’t tell me we were acting out a play,” she shot back, flipping through the pages as the car started.

“I need to make sure everything is under control,” he said, voice even, clipped. “I didn’t build a billion-dollar business to have it run on assumptions. Everything is planned, every move, every word, every reaction.”

Amira didn’t respond as she flipped through the pages, her expression unreadable, even as her fingers tightened on the script.

The silence stretched, between them, until Leon’s voice cut through it again, quieter this time. “Do you understand why this matters?”

She looked up briefly, meeting his dark glasses. “I understand. You want perfection.”

“Not perfection,” he corrected, his tone like steel. “Control. Visibility. Influence. One mistake and everything falls apart.”

Her jaw tightened as she nodded wordlessly.

“We’ve arrived,” the driver announced.

Amira exhaled, closing the script calmly.

"Calm yourself down, it's not the first time you're facing the press," He jabbed and she scoffed, rolling her eyes before she replied.

"Of course it's not, but at least, I've never had to answer their questions out of a script," She said, holding her hands out for him to take nonchalantly as they got out of the car.

The conference room buzzed with cameras, flashing lights, and the faint scent of tension. Amira’s heels clicked against the floor as she followed Leon onto the stage.

She faked a small happy smile, one of those she'd had to master over the years.

Microphones lined the table, reporters murmuring with cameras focused on them.

Leon’s hand brushed hers as they approached their seats, not enough to be gentle, just enough to anchor her. She clenched her jaw, refusing to let him see how fast her pulse was racing.

“Good afternoon,” Leon began, his voice smooth and commanding, carrying effortlessly across the room.

“Thank you for joining us today. We’re here to address recent speculations and affirm our shared commitment to our marriage, both personally and professionally.”

The reporters leaned forward, pens poised, their microphone standing straight, waiting for everyone one of their words like their life depended on it.

Amira’s turn came. She straightened, cleared her throat, and began to speak.

“I’m honored to be here. And I want to assure everyone that Mr. Mercer and I are united in our vision—”

A reporter interrupted, sharp and pointed: “Mrs. Mercer, is this marriage purely strategic? Is it true that your union is just a business move? Especially with what happened with your ex boyfriend?”

Amira’s hand tightened around the script. She glanced at Leon. His expression betrayed nothing.

“Strategic?” she repeated, voice steady, precise. “Marriage is never without strategy. But that doesn’t define the people in it.” Her gaze flicked briefly to Leon, letting him feel the weight of her defiance.

Flashbulbs exploded again, the room alive with murmurs.

Leon’s lips curved almost imperceptibly. He leaned forward, voice low, razor-sharp: “Our marriage may be under scrutiny, but it’s real in every way that matters.”

The reporters scribbled, sensing the tension, the unspoken game.

A hand shot up to ask another question. “Mrs. Mercer, are you comfortable with the public attention so soon after your wedding?”

Amira’s eyes met the camera lens directly. She didn’t blink. “Comfortable? No. But I am prepared. And I expect to be treated with respect, as my husband does.”

Another flash. Another gasp from the crowd. She felt the power shift slightly, not complete control, but enough. Leon’s hand brushed hers again, subtle, almost a claim.

“Anything else?” Leon’s tone brooked no argument.

The reporters hesitated, sensing the line. They had questions, but they weren’t ready to cross it.

Amira exhaled silently, the mask now lighter, sharper, more dangerous. She had played her part, yes, and she had also staked her claim.

As they left the stage, Leon leaned close, voice low. “Not bad.”

She smirked, voice dripping with quiet challenge. “I didn’t do it for you.”

He paused, dark glasses hiding whatever he was thinking. “I know.”

“One last question, Mrs. Mercer. Everyone’s speculating that your marriage was love at first sight, regarding how fast you got married, Care to respond?” a reporter asked.

Amira muttered under her breath, “First sight for someone who’s lost their sight…”

“Yes—no,” they both said at the same time.

The reporters frowned, confused.

“I’ll answer that,” Amira said, leaning slightly toward the mic. “I didn’t love my husband at first sight. I saw him a long time ago, and maybe it could be defined as love, but something clicked when I saw him navigating the world with his cane. I wanted to help him, make things easier for him.” She answered with a small, eased smile.

The conference ended. Flashbulbs popped one last time as they left the stage. Amira led him toward the car, calm and collected.

“Are you stupid!?” Leon barked as soon as the door closed behind them.

“No, I’m not,” she shot back, rolling her eyes.

“You ruined everything out there! Do you know what your little ‘no’ just cost me?” he snapped, voice tight, controlled fury barely held at bay.

“Is that why you’re yelling? Or because you actually think anyone will buy that fanatical love-at-first-sight nonsense?” she retorted, stepping closer.

“Yes! They’ll believe it. Not everyone’s as… foolish as you,” he growled, his tone darkening.

“Really? For a man whose constant mantra is how he built a billion-dollar empire,” she said, voice sharp, “you sound like the one who’s foolish here. This isn’t some Disney movie, Leon. Love at first sight my ass. Honestly… that line sounds sick for a man whose sight isn't working,"

He froze, jaw tightening under the dark glasses. Silence stretched between them, thick and dangerous.

"I-I'm sorry," She muttered, realizing she'd stretched too far.

"Start the car, let's go," Leon ordered the driver and the car moved immediately, silence engulfing the car afterwards.