Nancy stared at the list in her hand, her lips pressed into a tight line. "Weekly couple's therapy, joint interviews, dinner with close friends, and a shared social media account?"
Adrian looked up from the armchair across from her. "Don't forget the cozy vacation. The lawyer said photos of us 'being authentic' in a natural setting could sway the board."
She lowered the paper and gave him a look. "So you're telling me we need to go on a fake honeymoon, while being stalked by a private investigator hired by your uncle, just so we can convince the board that we're in love?"
Adrian shrugged, looking far too amused. "That's the gist of it."
"Fantastic," she muttered. "This is either the worst soap opera ever or a tax write-off waiting to happen."
He cracked a smile. "Relax. It's only six weeks. Then the clause expires, we lock down the company, and you never have to look lovingly into my eyes again."
"Please," Nancy scoffed. "I've stared down hedge fund managers who were more terrifying."
Adrian raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "You're saying I'm not scary enough?"
Nancy didn't respond. Instead, she turned and headed toward the kitchen, muttering something about needing coffee—and possibly a lobotomy.
---
Blackwood Enterprises – Executive Office
The office buzzed with quiet tension as whispers of the marriage clause leaked to top executives. Some were skeptical. Others amused. But a few began questioning Adrian's leadership.
And Uncle Harold was watching.
He'd already sent the investigator, a woman named Camille Graves, known for digging up dirt on political marriages and Hollywood divorces. She was precise, clinical, and terrifyingly charming.
Camille's first stop? A casual lunch observation.
---
That Weekend – The Public Display
Nancy and Adrian sat at an upscale outdoor cafe, wearing designer sunglasses, sipping overpriced lattes, and trying very hard not to murder each other.
"Smile," Adrian whispered, leaning across the table. "You're scowling like you're plotting my death."
"I am plotting your death."
He chuckled. "At least look like you're in love."
Nancy leaned closer, resting her chin on her palm. "You mean like this?"
Adrian blinked. Her expression softened just enough to make his chest tighten.
"Yeah," he said, voice lower. "Exactly like that."
Nancy's heart did a strange little flip, but she shoved it down quickly.
This is an act. This is survival.
They stood up and walked hand-in-hand toward the car. Camille, seated two tables over in a floppy hat and reading glasses, took careful notes.
---
Later That Night – The Therapy Session
Dr. Kim, their assigned counselor, peered at them from over her thin wire glasses. "Tell me about the first time you realized you cared for each other."
Nancy blinked. "Excuse me?"
"It's part of the evaluation," Dr. Kim said gently. "We look for micro-expressions and changes in tone. If you're faking, it shows."
Adrian cleared his throat. "I think it was the night Nancy threatened to destroy my entire legal team."
Dr. Kim raised an eyebrow.
"It was impressive," he added quickly. "I realized she wasn't just smart. She was lethal. And I respect that."
Nancy blinked, startled. Then slowly, she smiled.
"Okay," she said. "That was almost sweet."
Adrian turned to her. "Your turn."
Nancy sighed. "I think... it was when you showed up to that investor meeting. The one you didn't have to attend, but you came anyway, because you knew I needed backup."
Adrian looked at her, really looked.
The silence stretched a beat too long.
Dr. Kim smiled. "Interesting."
---
After Therapy – In the Elevator
Neither of them spoke for a full minute.
Then Nancy said quietly, "You didn't have to say that stuff."
"It was true," Adrian replied. "Most of it."
She glanced at him. "Most?"
He gave her a sideways smile. "I didn't want to say I also think you're kind of amazing. That would ruin our whole dynamic."
Nancy rolled her eyes, but she was smiling too.
---
Elsewhere – Camille's Office
Camille reviewed the footage. The hand-holding. The therapy session. The stolen glances.
She frowned.
"Either they're very good liars... or this is getting real."
She made a note in her file: Proceed with deeper investigation. Focus on private interactions. Possibly a real connection forming.
Uncle Harold would not be pleased.