Chapter 13 The Threat #2
An engagement that could eventually force impossible choices.
The realization remained with Ethan long after Oliver went to bed.
Because for the first time since the proposal, he began to understand the true danger.
The threat wasn't Sophia.
The threat wasn't the board.
The threat wasn't even the media.
The threat was time.
And every day this performance continued, it became harder to protect the one thing he actually cared about.
Hidden Heartbreak
Oliver spent the next week attempting to be reasonable.
The effort failed almost immediately.
Reasonable people didn't check business news websites before breakfast.
Reasonable people didn't feel annoyed by photographs.
Reasonable people certainly didn't experience irrational jealousy over a relationship they knew wasn't real.
Unfortunately, Oliver was discovering that being in love made reasonable behavior significantly more difficult.
Especially when the man you loved kept appearing beside a beautiful woman on the front page of financial magazines.
The situation was absurd.
He knew it.
Ethan knew it.
Even Sophia probably knew it.
Yet awareness didn't prevent the uncomfortable twist in his stomach every time another article appeared online.
The headlines continued multiplying.
Investors apparently loved the story.
Journalists loved it even more.
The narrative had become irresistible.
A powerful billionaire.
An influential investor's daughter.
A possible future engagement.
The media treated it like a modern fairy tale.
Oliver treated it like a personal form of torture.
On Wednesday morning, he made the mistake of opening a news application while drinking coffee.
The first headline immediately greeted him.
Blackwood and Caldwell Attend Exclusive Manhattan Fundraiser.
Below the title sat a photograph.
Ethan looked handsome.
Sophia looked elegant.
Together they looked perfect.
The image hit harder than it should have.
Oliver immediately closed the application.
Then reopened it thirty seconds later.
A terrible decision.
The comments proved even worse.
People speculated endlessly.
Wedding dates.
Engagement predictions.
Future children.
The sheer confidence of strangers discussing someone else's life felt ridiculous.
And strangely painful.
"You're glaring at your phone."
Helen's voice nearly made him jump.
Oliver quickly locked the screen.
"I am not."
"You absolutely are."
She poured herself coffee.
Then studied him carefully.
A dangerous habit lately.
"Should I be concerned?"
"About what?"
"The possibility that you'll eventually throw it through a window."
A laugh escaped despite everything.
The reaction helped.
Slightly.
Not enough.
Because the discomfort remained.
The problem wasn't trust.
Oliver trusted Ethan.
Completely.
That wasn't the issue.
The issue was everything surrounding Ethan.
The board.
The investors.
The media.
The expectations.
The realization lingered throughout the day.
By evening, the unease had settled deeply beneath his skin.
Not overwhelming.
Constant.
Like a pebble inside a shoe.
Small.
Impossible to ignore.
Dinner preparations provided temporary distraction.
Cooking usually helped.
The familiar rhythms created order.
Control.
Peace.
Unfortunately, peace remained elusive tonight.
Especially when Michael entered the kitchen carrying a folder.
"Need this delivered upstairs."
Oliver accepted it automatically.
Then froze.
A photograph sat partially visible through the folder.
Sophia.
Of course.
Apparently fate enjoyed cruelty.
Michael noticed his expression immediately.
"Board briefing."
The explanation arrived casually.
As though that improved anything.
Oliver forced a smile.
"Right."
Michael hesitated.
Then added something unexpected.
"For what it's worth, everybody hates this."
The comment caught him off guard.
"What?"
The Chief of Staff looked genuinely sympathetic.
"The Sophia situation."
Several seconds passed.
Oliver stared.
Unsure how to respond.
Michael shrugged.
"The board loves it."
A pause.
"Everyone else thinks it's ridiculous."
The statement settled heavily.
Because Michael wasn't supposed to know anything.
At least not officially.
Yet the comment carried a strange sense of understanding.
As though he recognized more than he said.
Before Oliver could ask questions, Michael disappeared.
Leaving confusion behind.
And perhaps a tiny bit of hope.
The evening grew worse before it improved.
Around nine o'clock, another article appeared.
This one originated from a major business publication.
The language remained carefully speculative.
Yet the message felt clear.
Several anonymous sources apparently believed Ethan and Sophia were moving toward something serious.
The article included photographs.
Lots of photographs.
Smiles.
Handshakes.
Shared appearances.
Moments completely stripped of context.
Oliver hated how convincing it looked.
Because if he didn't know the truth, he'd probably believe it too.
The realization hurt.
More than expected.
By ten o'clock, he found himself alone in the kitchen.
Again.
Apparently the room had become his preferred location for emotional crises.
A useful discovery.
The city glowed beyond the windows.
Rain tapped softly against the glass.
The penthouse remained quiet.
Most staff had already retired for the night.
Oliver stood beside the island staring at absolutely nothing.
Lost in thoughts he didn't particularly enjoy.
A familiar voice interrupted them.
"There you are."
He turned.
Ethan stood in the doorway.
His jacket had been removed.
His tie loosened.
The signs of a long day immediately visible.
Yet the moment he noticed Oliver's expression, concern replaced exhaustion.
The shift happened instantly.
"What happened?"
The question carried genuine worry.
The sight nearly broke Oliver's heart.
Because Ethan wasn't the problem.
Not really.
That was the cruelest part.
He wanted to blame someone.
Needed someone to blame.
Instead, all he found was a man trying his best.
A man trapped by expectations he never asked for.
A man who looked at him like he mattered.
The realization made everything harder.
"Nothing."
The answer emerged automatically.
Ethan didn't buy it.
Not for a second.
The billionaire walked closer.
Carefully.
Patiently.
"What happened?"
The repetition sounded softer.
More personal.
Oliver sighed.
The resistance felt pointless.
"It's stupid."
"Try me."
A humorless laugh escaped.
The sound surprised both of them.
Then he finally admitted it.
"The articles."
Silence followed.
Not surprised silence.
Resigned silence.
Because Ethan already knew.
Of course he knew.
The man was observant enough to notice when Oliver used different coffee beans.
This problem hadn't exactly been subtle.
"I know."
The honesty helped.
A little.
At least they weren't pretending anymore.
Oliver looked toward the windows.
Anywhere except Ethan.
"I keep telling myself it doesn't matter."
A brief pause.
"Because it shouldn't."
The confession felt embarrassingly vulnerable.
Yet once it started, stopping became impossible.
"I know it's fake."
"I know the board is pushing."
"I know you don't want it."
Each statement remained true.
Completely true.
That was the frustrating part.
Logic supported him.
Reality supported him.
Trust supported him.
Yet emotions stubbornly refused cooperation.
"It still hurts."
The words emerged barely above a whisper.
Silence.
Then movement.
Ethan stepped closer.
Close enough that Oliver became aware of familiar cologne.
Close enough to feel warmth.
Close enough to matter.
When he finally looked up, the expression on Ethan's face nearly undid him.
Because there was no frustration.
No annoyance.
No impatience.
Just sadness.
Understanding.
And something that looked remarkably like guilt.
"I'm sorry."
The apology arrived quietly.
Immediately.
The sincerity in it hurt.
Because Ethan genuinely meant it.
Oliver shook his head.
"It's not your fault."
The answer emerged automatically.
Partly because it was true.
Partly because he couldn't bear seeing that look.
The guilt.
The helplessness.
Neither of them deserved this.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The city lights reflected softly across the windows.
The silence felt intimate.
Heavy.
Real.
Then Ethan reached for him.
Not dramatically.
Not urgently.
Simply taking his hand.
The familiar gesture grounded him immediately.
"I need you to believe something."
Oliver swallowed.
"What?"
Ethan's grip tightened slightly.
Just enough.
"The only reason I'm doing any of this is because they're forcing the issue."
The words carried quiet certainty.
"The moment I can end it, I will."
Oliver believed him.
Instantly.
Without question.
That wasn't the problem.
The problem was everything between now and then.
Apparently Ethan understood.
Because his expression darkened slightly.
Thoughtful.
Concerned.
"There are things happening behind the scenes."
The admission immediately captured Oliver's attention.
"What things?"
A hesitation followed.
Rare.
Unusual.
Eventually Ethan answered.
"The board isn't backing down."
The words settled heavily.
Oliver had suspected as much.
Hearing it confirmed felt different.
More real.
More dangerous.
"They want stability."
A bitter laugh escaped him.
"By inventing a relationship?"
The sarcasm earned a faint smile.
Briefly.
Then seriousness returned.
"They think they're protecting the company."
The explanation sounded tired.
As though Ethan had repeated it too many times already.
Oliver squeezed his hand.
The gesture surprised them both.
Yet neither pulled away.
For several moments, they simply stood there.
Together.
United against a problem neither created.
The comfort should have eased his fears.
Instead, a troubling realization surfaced.
Because this wasn't getting better.
It was getting worse.
The media attention.
The board pressure.
The speculation.
Everything was escalating.
Slowly.
Relentlessly.
And eventually something would have to give.
The thought settled heavily between them.
Unspoken.
Yet understood.
Because both recognized the truth now.
The fake relationship was no longer a minor inconvenience.
It had become a threat.
Not to Ethan's company.
Not to investor confidence.
To them.
And standing together in the quiet kitchen while Manhattan glittered outside, neither could ignore the growing danger surrounding their relationship any longer.
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