Chapter 11 The Lie That Protects Me
Darcy's POV
We’re back in the penthouse, and the city lights stretch endlessly through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The drive back from the park had been quiet, but the tension simmering between us had been almost suffocating. Hazel is asleep in her crib, still blissfully unaware of the chaos outside. But I can feel the aftershock of the stranger’s photo, the storm that hasn’t even reached us yet.
Adrian moves through the apartment with mechanical efficiency. Suit pants in place, blazer buttoned loosely over his broad shoulders. He checks the security feeds again, then his phone buzzes. He glances down, and I notice the subtle tightening of his jaw, the faint crease between his brows.
“It’s PR,” he mutters. “They’ve seen the photo. The story’s already spreading.”
My stomach flips. I follow him toward the living area. “Photo? What do you mean?” My voice shakes slightly, though I try to hide it.
“They’re calling it well, they’re implying you and I are… together. Secretly.”
The words hit like a punch. My knees feel weak. Together? Secretly? I shake my head, refusing to accept it. But I can already see it in my mind: headlines screaming about me, tabloids dissecting every little interaction I’ve had with Adrian and Hazel, insinuations about my past, my life, my character.
I step closer, my hand brushing the back of his arm. “It’s just a photo. They can’t…”
“They already are,” he interrupts sharply. There’s a tremor in his voice that betrays the calm exterior. “They’re spinning it. They’ve attached quotes. They’re drawing conclusions.”
I swallow hard. The tiny thrill of being part of this family, the warmth, the comfort, the closeness I felt in the park is fading fast under the weight of reality. I feel panic prickling in my chest. This job, this life, even being near Hazel… it’s all suddenly much more dangerous than I ever imagined.
Adrian notices me flinching. His eyes soften, but there’s tension there too, something almost unrecognizable. “Darcy… it’s okay. I’ll handle it. None of this affects you. None of it is true.”
I nod, trying to believe him, but the pit in my stomach refuses to quiet. I take a slow step back. “I… I need a minute.”
Before he can respond, I turn and walk to the bathroom. I lock the door and lean against it, sliding to the floor. My phone buzzes with notifications. Articles. Headlines. Social media posts. Everyone’s guessing, everyone’s watching. The stranger’s photo has gone viral before I even had a chance to breathe.
I scroll, my hands trembling. Darcy, billionaire baby, secret girlfriend? The words blur across the screen. I feel heat rising to my cheeks and cold crawling down my spine at the same time. Hazel’s innocent smile in that photo… the way Adrian’s protective arm is curved around me… it all looks intimate, like we’re a real family. But we’re not. Not really.
And the truth? If people dug too deep, if anyone connected the dots, my past, my lack of pedigree, the life I’ve been hiding, it could ruin me. Permanently.
I sink onto the edge of the bathtub, my forehead pressed to my knees. This was supposed to be a simple job. A temporary arrangement. How did it escalate into this? How did a single moment in the park become a headline I can’t ignore?
Adrian’s footsteps echo in the apartment. I hear the click of the door, the subtle creak of it opening. I want to peek, but I can’t. I feel too exposed, too small.
“Darcy,” he says gently, stopping just outside. “Are you…”
I shake my head. “I need… I need a moment alone.”
He hesitates. Then there’s the faintest sigh. “Okay.” His voice is low, calm. Controlled. I know he’s pretending to be fine, but I can hear the tension, the undercurrent of danger, the way his world is trying to protect both of us.
I close my eyes and let the sound of the city filter in through the glass. The distant honk of a taxi. The neon glow from the street below. It should be calming, but all I feel is anxiety, a knot tightening in my chest.
Minutes stretch into what feels like hours. I try to breathe, to push the panic away, but the headlines keep flashing in my mind. Secret girlfriend. Scandal. Baby involved. Fake family.
The door opens quietly. I don’t look up.
“Darcy,” Adrian murmurs. The tone is different now, less gentle, harder, like he’s guarding me without me seeing.
I finally glanced up. He’s holding his phone. His free hand clenches into a fist at his side. The calm, composed CEO mask has cracked, just enough for me to see the fire beneath.
I can’t read the screen, but I know. I know it’s PR. I know it’s the photo. I know the storm is building.
Then I hear the words, quiet but sharp, and my stomach drops.
“Tell them she means nothing to me.”
I freeze. The air catches in my throat. Adrian’s voice is so firm, so final, that the entire apartment seems to shift. The weight behind it the protection, the anger, the need to shield me presses down like a physical force.
I step back, my heart racing. Hazel’s soft breathing from the other room, so innocent, so unaware, makes the moment even sharper. This is bigger than a photo. Bigger than a headline. It’s about safety, control, reputation… and him. Protecting both his child and me in a way I’ve never seen anyone protect anyone.
I realize, with a jolt that makes my knees weak, how deep I’ve already fallen into this life. How attached I am. Not just to Hazel, but to Adrian. How dependent I am on the fragile, dangerous moments where we share something real, and how easily it can be ripped apart by one stranger, one photo, one malicious whisper in the wrong ear.
I lock my eyes on him, but his expression gives nothing away, only focus, determination, a promise I can’t yet decipher. He looks at me like I’m both untouchable and untouchably his.
I want to step forward, to reach out, to tell him I trust him. But the panic hasn’t left. The fear of the world beyond these walls presses in. I can feel my hands trembling, and my chest tightens.
“Darcy?” His voice softens, almost a whisper, and I notice the subtle shift of concern mixed with irritation at the world. “Are you okay?”
I nod slowly, though I’m not. I step away from the bathroom, my mind still spinning with the implications. Every step feels heavy, like walking through water.
And then I see him, phone still pressed to his ear, speaking firmly. “Tell them she means nothing to me.”
The words hang in the air. Reassuring? Yes. Protective? Absolutely. Terrifying? More than I expected.
Because the message doesn’t just protect me from the press. It declares ownership. Defiance. Threat. It shows the lengths Adrian is willing to go to shield both Hazel and me. And I can’t decide if I should feel safe… or completely terrified.
Hazel stirs in the crib, stretching her tiny arms, waking to the sound of voices. I watch Adrian’s jaw tighten slightly, his eyes never leaving the phone. His instincts as a father, a protector, a man… they’re in full force, and I can’t look away.
I take a slow breath, trying to steady the whirlwind inside me. One thing is clear: nothing in this world, no headline, no stranger, no mother… will ever come between him and his child. Or me, apparently.
And I realize, with a mixture of fear and awe, how dangerous this love is how high the stakes have already become.
I glance at Adrian, phone pressed to his ear, speaking with lethal calm: “Tell them she means nothing to me.”
The words echo in my mind, and for the first time, I wonder if this job… this life… will ever leave me unscathed.