Chapter2
1366 Words
**CELESTE MONROE s*x TAPE LEAKED — IS THE POP PRINCESS REALLY A p**n STAR?**
Adrian scoffed, shaking his head as he scrolled past the headline.
"These celebs are allergic to dignity," he muttered, sipping his espresso.
He leaned back into his ergonomic chair, the skyline of Los Angeles stretching behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The early morning sunlight filtered in, bathing his office in gold, but his expression remained flat. He’d seen this before—one public figure after another crashing and burning in the name of fame.
As he took another sip, a second headline flashed across his tablet, and he nearly choked.
**CELESTE MONROE SECRETLY DATING RECLUSIVE BILLIONAIRE ADRIAN BLACKWOOD.**
Adrian blinked, staring at the words as if they might rearrange themselves into something sane. But no, they stayed the same—loud, bold, and attached to his name.
He coughed, spluttering espresso onto his glass desk.
"What the hell?" he hissed.
Adrian had resumed the day’s work relaxing in his office, sipping espresso while scrolling through hot internet takes—until a headline nearly made him spit his drink all over his desk.
**Few minutes earlier…**
“Make a full account of the profits this hotel made in the last three months and bring it to my office—with an espresso.”
Adrian’s voice was clipped and cold over the phone. He didn’t wait for a reply before ending the call.
He tossed his phone onto the table and leaned back in his chair. With a few taps, the morning news loaded on his tablet. His sharp brown eyes scanned through the usual—market shifts, political scandals, celebrity drama.
He wasn’t looking for anything in particular. It had become routine. Just a mental warm-up before diving into the chaos that was the Blackwood Empire.
Then the headline appeared.
**“BREAKING: CELESTE MONROE s*x TAPE LEAKED — IS THE POP PRINCESS REALLY A p**n STAR?”**
Adrian’s lips curled in disdain.
"Pfft," he exhaled.
"A public figure trending for this? I pity her lover. These hoes are something else."
He set the tablet aside and rubbed his temple. The entertainment industry had become one giant circus act. And now, here he was, dragged into it against his will.
A knock broke his irritation.
“Come in,” he said without looking up.
Marcelo, his assistant, walked in with a tray and set the espresso on the desk. He fidgeted with his cufflinks before speaking.
“You didn’t get back to me,” Adrian said sharply.
Marcelo cleared his throat. “Sir… we made more losses than profits in the last quarter.”
Adrian sank deeper into his chair. A quiet, frustrated sigh escaped his lips.
“What the hell is going on? Why aren’t we moving forward?” he muttered.
Marcelo shuffled. “Sir, we haven’t had many reservations lately. Clients are choosing newer hotels. Our current marketing strategy isn’t yielding results.”
Adrian stared blankly at the ceiling. He hated hearing facts that sounded like failure.
“I know, Marcelo. That was a rhetorical question,” he replied coldly. “You can go.”
Marcelo gave a small nod and quickly exited.
Adrian grabbed the espresso and took a calming sip, hoping caffeine would fix what incompetence couldn’t. Then, picking up his tablet again, he resumed scrolling.
And that’s when it happened.
**CELESTE MONROE SECRETLY DATING RECLUSIVE BILLIONAIRE ADRIAN BLACKWOOD.**
He froze.
Spat his drink.
Then stared in disbelief.
His eyes scanned the screen in rapid motion. Dozens of articles. Countless tweets. Fan edits are already forming. News anchors speculating. His name, in bold, beside hers.
"No. No, no, no…" he whispered, his pulse picking up. "How the hell did my name get in this mess?!"
He tapped through the posts—each headline more ridiculous than the last.
His tablet slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a loud clatter.
"This is witchcraft," he muttered. “What is Celeste Monroe playing at?!”
The phone on his desk rang.
He snatched it up, barely keeping it together.
"Yes?!"
“Your friend is here, sir—”
“You don’t need my permission to let him in,” he snapped.
There was a pause.
“Also, uh… there are lots of reporters outside. They’re requesting interviews. They say you’re dating someone.”
“What?!” Adrian stood abruptly and stormed toward the blinds. He yanked them open—and stopped dead.
A full crowd of journalists camped outside the hotel gates. Microphones in hand. Cameras clicking. Some had megaphones.
They were there for *him*.
He backed away, panic curling in his gut.
"Call security. No—call DSS. I want them off the premises in five minutes or less."
The door swung open. Adrian flinched—only to see Eugene stroll in like he owned the place.
“Jesus, don’t sneak up on me like that,” Adrian snapped.
“I knocked, genius,” Eugene replied dryly. He bent to pick up the tablet from the floor, glanced at it, and arched a brow.
“I thought we were brothers. When did we start keeping secrets?”
Adrian looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
Eugene didn’t answer. Instead, he slid his phone across the desk.
Adrian picked it up.
**TRENDING: CELESTE MONROE & ADRIAN BLACKWOOD — HOLLYWOOD’S HOTTEST NEW POWER COUPLE?**
**Celeste Moves On From Scandal With The World’s Most Eligible CEO.**
His jaw dropped.
“I thought we had a no-hoe policy,” Eugene said, crossing his arms.
“I don’t have hoes!” Adrian barked.
“Then explain the hashtags.”
**#Celdrian**
**#CelesteMonroeAdrianBlackwood**
**#HollywoodHottestCouples**
“They’ve made a ship name?” Adrian asked in disbelief. “I don’t even know this woman! I’ve never met her!”
“You’re trending worldwide,” Eugene said. “You, my friend, are officially famous for the wrong reasons.”
Adrian stood and began pacing. “She used me. She’s dragging my name through the mud to cover her scandal.”
Eugene’s gaze narrowed, then softened.
"Alright. I believe you. I shouldn't have doubted."
“Thank you,” Adrian muttered, rubbing his temples.
He sat down, still dazed.
“I’m suing her. Her team. The platforms. The PR agents. This is defamation.”
Eugene nodded. “As you should. This kind of madness ruins reputations.”
The phone rang again. Adrian stared at it for a second, then picked it up.
“Yes?”
“Sir, Mr. Maxwell is on the line. Should I transfer the call?”
Adrian blinked. “Mr. Maxwell? Yeah… yes. Do that.”
The line clicked, and a familiar, slick voice filled his ear.
“Adrian, I saw the headlines. You and Celeste Monroe? What a move. Brilliant. This is the most buzz your hotel has gotten in years.”
Adrian froze.
“I—uh—thanks?” he said cautiously.
“Let’s talk soon. I want it again. This kind of publicity is worth its weight in gold.”
The call ended.
Adrian just sat there, blinking.
“…What?”
Eugene tilted his head. “Was that…?”
“Maxwell. The investor who pulled out three months ago.”
“And now?”
“He wants back in.”
“Because of a fake dating rumor with a scandalous pop star?”
Adrian stood up slowly. A smirk curled across his face. “Apparently, I’m trending and getting profitable soon.”
He turned toward the window again, watching the flashes and chaos below.
“If one investor’s back just from this… imagine what else I could gain.”
Eugene’s brows drew together. “Wait, are you seriously thinking of playing along*?”
Adrian grabbed his phone and dialed his secretary.
“Get me in touch with Celeste Monroe’s team.”
“On it!”
He hung up.
Eugene blinked. “You’ve officially lost your mind.”
Adrian’s smile grew wider. “No, Eugene. I’ve finally found a strategy.”
He turned back to the window and watched the world react to a lie neither of them started—but one he now planned to turn into gold.
“Let’s see what Celeste Monroe is really made of.”
- Writer
