Adrian POV
The question lands exactly where the reporter intended it to.
Not curiosity.
Detonation.
Are you pregnant?
The silence that follows is surgical. Cameras lean forward. Microphones inch closer. Every person in the room senses blood in the water.
I feel Lydia’s body go still beside me.
Not fragile.
Calculating.
She understands what this moment is worth.
One wrong answer fractures control. One hesitation feeds speculation. Markets react to uncertainty faster than truth.
I step forward before she speaks.
Not abruptly. Not aggressively.
Decisively.
My hand moves from her lower back to her waist, drawing her half a step behind my shoulder. The gesture is subtle enough to appear natural, unmistakable enough to redefine positioning.
Not my wife beside me.
Wife under my pr
