MARRIED TO MY ENEMY

THE ROOM BEHIND THE CURTAIN

Amara's Pov.

The ballroom at Andrew Tower was full by 10:55a.m. Cameras. Reporters. Investors. Family friends who hadn’t spoken to each other in 20 years but were smiling for photos now. At the front, a long table with two microphones. On one side: Mr. Nicholas. On the other: Mr. Andrew Daniel’s father. Between them, an empty space for us. I could see Mr. Brad from the side entrance.

Bradley Martyn. Late 50's. Navy suit. He was in the front row, second seat. Glass of water in his hand. Talking to someone from the Chamber of Commerce like he owned the room. Because he probably did.

“Ready?” Daniel whispered. His hand brushed mine. Not for show. “No,” I whispered back. “But we’re doing it anyway.” The MC called our names. “Now, to announce the union of two legacy families, please welcome Mr. Daniel Andrew and Mrs. Amara Andrew.”

Applause and flashes. We walked out together. Heads high. The perfect couple. My father’s eyes flicked at me. Daniel’s father didn’t look at him while we sat. The MC started talking about “new beginnings” and “healing old wounds.” I turned to look elsewhere, my eyes caught Mr. Brad. He was watching us and he was smiling. Ten minutes in, Daniel leaned toward the mic.

“Before we continue,” he said. His voice was steady. “We’d like to address something privately. With our fathers. And Mr. Bradley Martyn." The room went quiet. Mr. Nicholas frowned. “Daniel, this isn’t the time....”“Now, sir,” Daniel cut in. Polite. Firm. “Or we don’t continue.” Both our fathers exchanged looks and shifted it on Daniel.

Brad took a sip of water. Then stood up. "Of course,” he said, his voice calm and solemn. “Family matters. Let’s step to the green room.” He said it like he was in charge. And no one argued.

...

The green room was behind the stage. Small. White couches. A mirror. Coffee that no one drank. The door shut. Four of us. And Brad. For a second, no one spoke. Mr. Andrew broke it. “What is this about, Daniel?” Daniel looked at me. I pulled the folder from my bag. Nia’s folder. The yearbook photo. The fake emails. The bank statements.

“We know,” I said. “About 2003.” Mr. Nicholas went still. “What?”

“We know it wasn’t you,” Daniel said to both fathers. “And it wasn’t you.” He looked at each of them. “It was him.” He pointed at Brad. Brad didn’t flinch. He set his water down on the table. “Excuse me?”

“Bradley Martyn,” I said. My voice shook, but I kept going. “You were the third partner. You stole the money. You forged the emails. You made them think the other betrayed them.” I slid the papers across the coffee table. The photo. The emails. Mr. Andrew picked up the yearbook photo first. His hand trembled. “Brad?” he whispered. Like he didn’t recognize the name. Mr. Nicholas picked up the bank statements. His face went white.

“What is this?”

“This is the truth,” Daniel said. “You were set up. Twenty years ago. And he’s been pulling the strings ever since.” Brad laughed. Soft. Like we just told a joke. “Kids,” he said. “You’ve been reading too many novels.” He picked up the fake emails. Held it to the light. “These are forgeries. Anyone with Photoshop can make these.” He dropped them. “And this?” He tapped the yearbook photo. “We were boys. Friends. That doesn’t prove anything.”

“It proves you were there,” I said. “It proves you had access.” Brad turned to my father. “Nicholas, you really believe this? After everything?” My father didn’t answer. He was staring at the bank statement. At the account numbers. Brad turned to Mr. Andrew. “Andrew, Twenty years. You’re going to let two children and a disgruntled ex-secretary ruin that?” Mr. Andrew looked up. “Nia?”

“She contacted us,” Daniel said. “She told us everything.” Brad sighed. Like he was disappointed, “Nia Ade? Of course. She was always jealous. Always wanted to be part of the inner circle.” He walked to the mirror. Adjusted his tie. “You have no idea what you’re doing. Do you?”

“We’re exposing you,” I said. “At the press conference. Right now,” Brad turned back to us. The smile was gone. “Are you?” He looked at both our fathers. “Gentlemen. Do you want to do this? Air dirty laundry in front of the press? Destroy what little is left of your companies? Because that’s what will happen.”

“No one will invest in a merger built on a lie,” Daniel said. “And no one will invest in a merger built on scandal either,” Brad said. He walked closer. “Think. If you go out there and say this, the stock crashes. The banks pulls out. Thousands of people lose jobs. Including the people who work for you.”

“That’s on you,” Daniel said. “Not us.” Brad looked at me with a serious look. “You’re smart, Amara. Smarter than him.” He nodded at Daniel. “You know this is suicide. For your family. For his.”

“Then tell the truth,” I said. “Confess.” Brad laughed again. “Confess what? To emails I didn’t send? To money, I don’t have?” He leaned in, his voice dropping. “You don’t have evidence. You have a bitter woman’s word and some papers anyone could fake. You go out there, you’ll be sued for defamation before lunch.” Mr. Nicholas finally spoke. “Brad. Did you.....”

“Nicholas,” Brad cut him off. “Don’t. Don’t do this to yourself. To your daughter. To the company you built with all you have.”

He put a hand on my father’s shoulder. “This is grief talking. You want someone to blame. But it wasn’t me. It was business. It was bad luck.” Mr. Andrew was quiet. Too quiet. Daniel noticed. “Dad?” Mr. Andrew looked at the photo. At Brad. At Daniel. “I don’t know what to believe,” he said quietly. “That’s the problem,” Brad said. “You don’t know. And in court, ‘I don’t know’ loses.” He walked to the door. Paused.

“Let me make this simple,” he said without turning around. “You go out there and say my name, I will bury you. Both families. I have lawyers, I have records, I have witnesses who will say I was in London in 2003.” He turned. “And I have the board votes to remove both of you by the end of the day.” The threat hung in the air. “You don’t have evidence,” Brad said directly to me and Daniel. “And I do. So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to go out there. You’re going to announce the merger. You’re going to smile. And you’re going to forget Nia’s name.”

He opened the door. “Oh, and kids?” He looked at us. “Try not to cry too much. The cameras are rolling.” Then he walked out.

The room was silent. Mr. Nicholas sat down heavily on the couch. Mr. Andrew was still holding the photo. Daniel looked at me. His face was blank. But his hands gripped with muscle.“They don’t believe us,” I whispered. “Not yet,” Daniel said. My father looked up. “Amara. Is this true? Did you really.......?"

“Yes,” I said. “Every word.” He shook his head. “I can’t. Not without proof. Not like that.” Mr. Okafor stood. “We have to go back out. The press..."

“So do we just lie?” Daniel asked. “Again?”

“We survive,” Mr. Andrew said. “That’s what we do.” He walked out. My father followed a second later, without looking at me. The door closed. It was just me and Daniel.

“He threatened us,” I said. My voice was small. “He threatened both families,” Daniel corrected. “He’s scared.”

“Scared people are dangerous.” Daniel picked up the folder. Put everything back in. “Then we get evidence, real evidence. Bank records he can’t deny. Witnesses. Something.”

“How? He’s erased everything.”

“Not everything,” Daniel said. “Nia has more. And there’s a paper trail somewhere in between Brad’s arrogance. Arrogant people slip.” A knock on the door. The MC’s voice. “Two minutes, Mr. and Mrs. Andrew.” Daniel took my hand. “We still have a choice,” he said. “Go out there and lie. Or go out there and tell half the truth.”

“What’s half the truth?”

“That we’re not doing this for them,” he said. “That we’re doing this for us. And that we’ll find the proof.” I nodded. We walked back out. The lights were blinding. Brad was in the front row again. Smiling. Daniel took the mic first. “Thank you all for coming,” he said. “Today is about the future.” I took the mic next. “And the future,” I said, looking right at Brad, “belongs to the truth. Even if it takes time to find it,” Brad’s smile didn’t falter but his eyes did.

As we left the stage, my phone buzzed. Unknown number. "You should’ve listened. Now you’ve made it personal. Brad" Daniel saw it. He didn’t say anything. He just laced his fingers through mine. We walked past our fathers. Past the cameras. Past Mr. Brad.

And out of the room, not victorious but not broken either, because now we knew the name and he knows.