Claimed By The Cold CEO

The Lie That Felt True.

The Adewale Tower ballroom had never felt smaller.

Cameras lined the back wall, red lights blinking like judgment.

Reporters from _Punch_, _BellaNaija_, _Channels TV_—all waiting.

The hashtag #AdewaleScandal had 2.1M posts.

Amara stood backstage, hands clammy in the silk dress Damien’s stylist had forced on her 20 minutes ago.

“You don’t have to do this,” her publicist said for the third time.

“She does,” Damien replied, adjusting his cufflinks. He looked calm. Too calm.

Amara glanced at him.

“You said we’d tell the truth. Not all of it.”

“The part that matters,” he said quietly. “That we’re married. That we’re together. That’s enough to kill the story.”

The stage manager gave the 30-second signal.

Damien took her hand.

His palm was warm. Steady.

For one second, Amara forgot this was part of the act.

“If this goes wrong,” he said, “I’ll take the fall.”

“Too late,” Amara muttered. “My name’s already trending.”

They walked out together.

Flashes exploded.

Damien positioned himself slightly in front of her, a subtle shield. He sat first, then gestured for her to sit beside him.

The moderator cleared her throat.

“Mr. and Mrs. Adewale, thank you for coming. Let’s address the rumors head-on. Is your marriage a contract?”

Damien answered first.

“Yes. It started as a contract.”

The room erupted.

Amara’s heart stopped.

“But it’s not a contract anymore,” Damien continued, voice cutting through the noise. “I married Amara because I want to spend my life with her. The rumors, the leaks—they’re from people who don’t want to see us happy.”

All eyes turned to her.

Amara swallowed. She hadn’t agreed to this part.

“Mrs. Adewale?” the moderator prompted.

She looked at Damien. He wasn’t looking at the cameras.

He was looking at her.

_No more secrets,_ she’d said.

_I’ll take the fall,_ he’d said.

Amara leaned into the mic.

“He’s right,” she said. “It started as a contract. But what I feel now isn’t fake.”

The room went silent.

A reporter stood up.

“Mrs. Adewale, is that love?”

Amara didn’t answer.

She looked at Damien instead.

And for the first time, she didn’t look away.

Under the table, Damien reached for her hand.

His fingers found hers.

He didn’t let go.

The cameras caught it all.

The flash was blinding.

And in that moment, Amara realized—

Whether it was acting or not,

the world would believe it was real.

And a part of her wasn’t sure she wanted them to stop believing.

[To Be Continued…]