"Welcome to my world." He kissed my forehead. "But at least now you're in it with me."
The press conference was scheduled for that afternoon, giving me barely enough time to panic properly. Leon's team descended on the penthouse like a well-oiled machine PR specialists coaching me on what to say and how to say it, a stylist bringing clothes that would photograph well, makeup artists trying to make me look less like I'd survived a war zone and more like a billionaire's acceptable girlfriend.
Through it all, Leon stayed close, his presence a steady reminder that I wasn't doing this alone.
"Remember," his PR director said for the hundredth time, "keep your answers short and professional. Don't get defensive even if the questions are personal. And whatever you do, don't cry on c
