Chapter Nine: Behind the Veil

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I didn't sign up for this. Well, technically I did.

As the car came to a stop, I peered out the window at the swarm of people crowding the street. Was this some kind of movie premiere, or did someone somehow find and leak a photo of my tragic middle school haircut? The scene outside was chaotic: a sea of photographers, reporters, and curious onlookers, all vying for a glimpse of... me? Well, technically, us—Alexander and me—but the idea that they were here for any part of my life felt utterly surreal.

Flashes of light from cameras strobed through the tinted windows, making the inside of the car feel like a nightclub—minus the fun and definitely minus the alcohol. I tried to take a deep breath, but it got stuck somewhere in my throat, my heart hammering away like it was trying to escape.

"This is crazy," I muttered, shaking my head. "They look like they're waiting for someone way more interesting than me."

Alexander, sitting beside me, must have noticed the tension in my posture. He shifted slightly, turning to look at me. His eyes, normally so composed and unreadable, held a flicker of something softer. Concern? Reassurance? It was hard to tell.

"Emily," he said, his voice calm and steady, "You're going to do just fine. Just remember why we're here, and focus on that."

Easy for him to say. He practically invented the art of being unflappable in public. I, on the other hand, had no idea what I was doing. Sure, I'd been to a few fancy events, but as the girl blending into the background, not the one everyone was staring at.

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. "Right, because nothing says 'focus' like being blinded by ten thousand camera flashes."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Think of it like cardio for your nerves."

"Great," I deadpanned, "because that's exactly what I needed—public anxiety with a side of paparazzi flashbangs. Just another Wednesday."

His lips twitched, the hint of a smile playing there. "Look at it this way: if they blind us both, at least we'll trip over the red carpet together. It'll be a good story."

I shot him a look, trying to stifle my laughter. "If I go down, I'm dragging you with me."

Alexander grinned. "Deal."

My hands fidgeted in my lap as I glanced back out the window. The crowd seemed to swell by the second, their excitement growing louder, like sharks smelling blood in the water.

"It's just... there are so many of them," I blurted out, my voice sounding smaller than I wanted it to.

"There are," Alexander agreed, his lips twitching into a faint smile that seemed both reassuring and somehow amused. "But they're more interested in the idea of us than in you or me individually. We just need to give them what they want. Stick close to me, follow my lead, and it'll be over before you know it."

Before I could reply, the car came to a full stop. The silence inside felt suffocating compared to the roar of voices and flashing lights just outside. Without missing a beat, Alexander moved like he'd done this a thousand times. Probably because he had. The door swung open, and for a second, the car was flooded with blinding light and the deafening sound of cameras clicking in rapid-fire succession. I could hear the crowd's excitement rise as they caught sight of him.

Alexander! Over here! Are the engagement rumors true?

Is this your new girlfriend?

How do you feel about the merger? Any comment?

Alexander, smile for us! Is that the same mystery woman from the gala?

I gripped the edge of my seat like I was hanging onto the last life raft in a storm. Panic was bubbling up again, threatening to spill over, when the door on my side suddenly swung open. And there he was—Alexander, standing tall and composed, like he was posing for a cologne ad. His hand was outstretched, a perfect fake smile plastered on his face, smooth and practiced, as if he did this every day.

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