Chapter 34: Chapter XXXIV

The apartment was quiet as Ariana padded barefoot across the marble living room floor, holding a cup of peppermint tea. The dim afternoon light filtered through the expansive windows, casting a golden shadow over the penthouse. But something seemed off—the atmosphere was too quiet. A low murmur vibrated through the hallway walls like a pulse she couldn't quite place.

She followed it.

Callum's office door was slightly ajar.

She didn't mean to eavesdrop. Honestly, she meant to turn away. But then she heard her name.

“We’re already exposed. He seems to already know about the arrangement. If Milanna’s dad makes a move now, it puts Ariana in direct danger. That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

Her hand froze on the hallway wall.

Julian’s voice followed. “Then you need to either distance yourself or lock this down. You’re too close already, and they know it. If you ask my advice, I’d say call off this contract and keep her out of danger for real.”

“I’m not sending her away again,” Callum said, low and grim. “Not unless I have no choice.”

A long pause. Then Julian: “Then we need to accelerate the cover. The fake engagement won’t hold under another leak. If you're going to protect her, you'll need to make it official.”

Callum exhaled. “We’ll sign the papers this week. Make it legal—quietly. Let the media think it’s a whirlwind romance. It’ll buy us time.”

Ariana stepped back before she heard more.

Her pulse was pounding in her ears.

Sign the papers?

Make it legal?

And all of this… for her protection?

She returned to the living room, the tea now cold and forgotten, settling onto the edge of the velvet couch as her thoughts spiraled. A swirl of emotions rose in her chest—appreciation, confusion, fear, and somewhere deep inside, a growing sense of powerlessness.

Was this how things were going to be? Whispered decisions about her life behind closed doors?

A few minutes later, Callum appeared.

He didn’t see the flicker of suspicion she quickly masked.

Instead, he gave her a small, carefully composed smile. “There you are.”

She gestured vaguely with her cup. “Just needed some quiet.”

He moved to sit beside her. There was a different energy about him today. Calculating. Preoccupied. But when he looked at her, there was still softness behind his dark eyes.

“I need to tell you something, more like discuss this situation.” he said.

Ariana turned slightly toward him.

“We need to have another official outing. It’s... important.”

She raised a brow. “Another gala?”

“Not quite.” He reached for her hand, surprising her. “We’re going to court. To sign the marriage license.”

Ariana blinked. “Wait—what?”

“We need to make it legal, it’s the cleanest move we can make. Once we’re married, it gives the media a new narrative to run with. It distracts from the recent leaks. You’ll have legal protection if anyone targets you again.”

“So this is just...” She gestured vaguely. “A shield?”

His expression flickered. “It started that way.”

“But now?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, surprising her. “But what I do know is that this keeps you safer. And that matters more to me than how it looks.”

Ariana stood, walking a few paces to collect herself.

“This world of yours... it’s not just about luxury, flashing lights and private jets, is it?”

Callum didn’t answer immediately.

“No,” he said finally. “It never was.”

She turned to face him again, her voice quieter. “You made a choice before. To keep me in it. To keep me close. But you didn’t ask what I wanted.”

“You’re right,” he said. He rose and joined her. “So I’m asking now.”

She looked up at him, caught in the gravity of his presence. “What happens if I say no?”

“We find another way,” he said gently. “I won't force you. But I won’t pretend this isn’t dangerous anymore.”

Ariana swallowed the knot in her throat. “And if I say yes?”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “Then you’re not just part of the cover. You’re part of the plan.”

There was a pause between them—an entire conversation held in silence.

She didn’t answer. Not yet.

Instead, she turned back toward the window, watching the skyline shift with the oncoming dusk. Shadows crawled up the buildings like secrets looking for a place to hide.

Callum stood quietly behind her, not pushing.

Just waiting.

......................................

Ariana watched the soft rumble of city life drift in through the open balcony doors of the penthouse. Manhattan was restless below her, but up here, Ariana sat in stillness.

She hadn’t moved from the corner of the couch since Callum told her.

Marriage license.

A quiet court visit.

Not a proposal, not a choice born of romance. A necessity. A protective strategy dressed in whispers and legal ink.

But she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want it to mean something. That he didn’t mean something.

The truth was, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way he looked at her—not just in public when the cameras were watching, but in those quiet hours at night. When she woke in bed and found him already awake, gazing at her like he wasn’t sure she was real. When he brushed her hair back gently, tucked a blanket around her without a word.

Even the night of her sister’s surgery—how he surprised her with a dinner so thoughtful it left her in tears, and then just held her in the dark, not asking for anything, not expecting.

He gave her space even when she didn’t ask for it. And protection before she knew she needed it.

And yet.

Ariana hugged her knees to her chest on the couch, wrapped in one of his oversized cashmere sweaters. Her phone buzzed beside her, and she glanced down.

A message from Callum.

Whenever you’re ready. I’ll be here.

She sighed, her thumb hovering over the screen. Then she stood and paced toward the balcony, letting the cool breeze kiss her skin. The city looked vast and indifferent below—but inside her, everything felt intensely personal.

She had always imagined marriage as a choice made in love, not in strategy. But maybe love wasn’t always loud and glittering. Maybe it started like this—quiet gestures, aching restraint, and trust you had to build on unstable ground.

Ariana turned away from the skyline and moved slowly toward his study.

The door was open.

Callum looked up from his desk the moment she stepped in. His eyes softened, but he didn’t speak. He waited, like he promised he would.

“I’m scared,” she said finally.

He rose. “I’ll be here every step of the way. I’m scared too.”

She blinked. “You are?”

“I’m terrified” he said with a faint, dry smile. “You’re the first thing in a long time I haven’t been able to control.”

She laughed softly—half in surprise, half in disbelief. “That’s a compliment that sounds like a problem.”

“No.” He crossed the room slowly, stopping just in front of her. “It’s not something I’m used to but I like how it feels.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Callum, I don’t want this to be just a show.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“But if we sign that paper,” she whispered, “we can’t undo it. Even if it’s to keep me safe. Even if we don’t use it like a real marriage—it’s still a vow.”

“I won’t lie to you. It’s complicated. But it’s also your choice. Completely.” He reached out, slowly, as if afraid she might vanish. “And if you say no, I’ll find another way to protect you.”

Ariana studied him—his eyes, his guarded softness, his need to keep her close while never demanding it. That restraint was what undid her.

She reached out and placed her hand over his heart.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “Not because of the media, or the lies, or even the protection. I’ll do it because... I trust you.”

Something changed in his face. A subtle unraveling. His fingers curled around hers gently, then brought them to his lips.

“I won’t forget that,” he said against her skin.

They stood there for a moment, the air between them thick with unspoken things.

“What happens now?” she asked.

He stepped back, composed again—but she could still see the emotion under the surface.

“Tomorrow morning, we go to court,” he said. “It’s quick. Discreet. My lawyer’s already set the appointment. Afterward, we’ll let the press find out—enough to shift the narrative.”

“And your mother?” she asked, a faint smile tugging her lips.

“She’ll hate it,” he replied dryly. “But that’s not your problem.”

Ariana arched a brow. “You sure about that?”

He hesitated, then admitted with a smirk, “Okay. Maybe it’s both of our problems.”

Her smile grew, though nerves still fluttered in her chest. “I guess this makes us... kind of married.”

“Technically,” he said. “But I’ll only call you my wife if you want me to.”

That quiet consideration—so unexpected in his world of power plays—nearly undid her again.

She looked up at him, something brave in her voice. “You can call me whatever you want... as long as you mean it.”

He leaned down then, brushing a kiss against her forehead. “Then I guess you’re the new Mrs. Guererro.”