The Marriage Clause

〘⚫Chapter Seven⚪〙

Daria's POV

I woke up before my alarm.

Which was annoying.

I stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, trying to remember why I felt like I had forgotten something.

Then it came back.

The press conference.

I groaned and pulled the blanket over my face.

“Right.”

Today, the entire world was going to find out that I was marrying Roman Blackwell.

Not Ethan.

Not the man whose wedding had been announced weeks ago.

Roman.

I had somehow gone from planning one wedding to announcing another in the space of a few days.

My life was ridiculous.

I reached for my phone.

Hundreds of notifications.

I didn't even bother opening them.

My assistant had already sent me three messages.

8:00 a.m. Hair appointment.

9:00 a.m. Fitting.

10:15 a.m. Leave for Blackwell Group.

And then:

'Please don't cancel anything today.'

I smiled.

She knew me too well.

I got out of bed.

Today wasn't the day to panic.

At least, that's what I told myself.

By nine, I was sitting in front of a mirror while my stylist worked on my hair.

I had decided against anything too dramatic.

My hair was styled simply, falling neatly over my shoulders, with just enough work put into it to make it look effortless.

The dress had been delivered earlier.

A fitted cream-colored dress with a simple neckline and a long coat over it.

Elegant.

Not wedding-like.

Not too formal.

Just enough.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

For a second, I didn't recognize the woman staring back.

Not because I looked different.

Because everything felt different.

My phone rang.

Mom.

I answered.

“Hi.”

“Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“The announcement.”

I smiled.

“You've been talking about it all morning?”

“Of course.”

“You're enjoying this.”

“I am.”

I laughed.

Then she became quiet.

“Are you sure?”

I knew what she meant.

“Yes.”

“You don't have to do this for me.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

I looked at myself in the mirror again.

“Because I want to.”

That wasn't completely true.

But it wasn't a lie either.

I wanted out.

And maybe I wanted to see where this strange decision would take me.

My mother sighed softly.

“Then I'll trust you.”

I smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Just one thing.”

“What?”

“Don't let anyone make you smaller.”

My smile faded slightly.

“I won't.”

“I know.”

We said goodbye.

I put my phone down.

My stylist looked at me through the mirror.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled.

I nodded.

Then my phone buzzed again.

A message from Roman.

'Car will be outside at 10:15.'

I typed:

'I have a car.'

His response came quickly.

'I know.'

I frowned.

'Then why are you sending one?'

Three dots appeared.

Then:

'Because you're coming with me.'

I stared at the screen.

I typed:

'Bossy.'

Then he didn't reply me again.

I rolled my eyes at that, locking my phone.

The car arrived exactly at 10:15.

Of course it did.

Roman was already inside.

I opened the door and got in.

He looked up from his phone.

His eyes moved over me briefly before returning to the screen.

“You're late.”

I looked at my watch.

“It's 10:16.”

“Yes.”

“One minute.”

“You're still late.”

I stared at him.

“You're unbelievable.”

He looked at me.

“You look nice.”

I paused.

That wasn't what I expected.

“Thank you.”

He nodded and went back to his phone.

I watched him for a second.

“Was that difficult?”

“What?”

“Complimenting me.”

“No.”

“You looked like you were about to give yourself a headache.”

He smiled slightly.

“I'll keep that in mind.”

The car pulled away.

I looked out the window.

There were already reporters outside the hotel.

Then another group near the street.

It seemed like the entire city knew something was happening.

“Is this normal?” I asked.

“For us?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

I looked at him.

“That's reassuring.”

He locked his phone.

“They've been following you since the photographs came out.”

“I know.”

“You should increase your security.”

“I have security.”

“More.”

I frowned.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I didn't say you couldn't.”

“Then why?”

“Because being able to protect yourself doesn't mean you should have to do everything yourself.”

I didn't answer.

That was probably the most he'd said to me at once.

The car became quiet again.

I looked outside.

Then back at him.

“Are you nervous?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

“No.”

“Why?”

He looked at me.

“Are you?”

I thought about lying.

“Yes.”

He nodded.

“Then I'll be nervous for both of us.”

I laughed.

“That doesn't even make sense.”

“I know.”

Blackwell Group was surrounded by reporters.

The moment the car stopped, the shouting started.

“Miss Vale!”

“Mr Blackwell!”

“Are you two getting married?”

"Miss Vale, what happened to your engagement?”

"Mr Blackwell, did you know she was engaged?”

“Are you together?”

I looked at Roman.

He opened the door.

“Ready?”

“No.”

“Good.”

He stepped out.

I laughed under my breath and followed him.

Security immediately surrounded us.

The cameras flashed nonstop.

Someone shouted a question about Ethan.

I ignored it.

Roman didn't react either.

We entered the building.

The doors closed behind us.

I exhaled.

“That was horrible.”

“You'll survive.”

“You're enjoying this.”

“Maybe.”

He said, walking ahead of me.

The conference room was already full.

Journalists.

Business reporters.

Cameras.

Executives.

People from both companies.

I stopped at the entrance.

This was a lot.

Roman noticed.

“You okay?”

I nodded.

“Yeah.”

He held out his hand.

I looked at it.

Then at him.

“What?”

“Come on.”

I hesitated for half a second before placing my hand in his.

The cameras immediately exploded.

Flash after flash.

'It's all for the camera.

We walked onto the stage together.

The room became louder.

I could barely hear myself think.

We sat.

Roman leaned toward the microphone.

“Good morning.”

The room went quiet.

“We're here to address recent speculation regarding Daria Vale and myself.”

Someone immediately raised a hand.

Roman ignored them.

“We've decided to make our relationship public.”

A wave of whispers moved through the room.

Then he said it.

“Daria Vale and I are getting married.”

The room exploded.

Questions came from everywhere.

“How long have you been together?”

“Why was Daria's previous engagement cancelled?”

“Was this planned?”

“Are the companies merging?”

“Is this a business arrangement?”

“Roman, are you in love?”

I almost choked.

Roman looked completely calm.

I leaned toward him.

“They're asking if you're in love.”

“I heard.”

“Are you going to answer?”

“No.”

I covered a smile.

A reporter shouted my name.

“Daria, did you leave your fiancé for Roman?”

I looked toward the reporter.

“No.”

The room quieted slightly.

“The relationship ended because it wasn't right for me.”

Another reporter immediately asked,

“When did you meet Roman?”

I glanced at him.

He looked back at me.

“We met recently.”

That was technically true.

“How did you meet?”

I smiled.

“By chance.”

Roman's expression didn't change.

Another reporter stood.

“Your wedding was already announced. Why should the public believe this marriage is genuine?”

There it was.

The question we'd expected.

I looked at Roman.

Then back at the reporter.

“Because it doesn't really matter whether you believe it.”

The room went silent.

Roman looked at me.

I continued.

“We're getting married. That's what matters.”

A few reporters started murmuring.

One of them laughed.

Another raised his hand.

“Is this marriage connected to the Vale and Blackwell companies?”

Roman answered this time.

“Our companies will remain independently operated.”

“But there will be business cooperation?”

“Yes.”

“How much will this change the market?”

Roman leaned back slightly.

“We'll let the results speak for themselves.”

I glanced at him.

He really did know how to answer without actually answering.

Another reporter shouted,

“Daria, are you pregnant?”

My eyes snapped to the reporter immediately.

The entire room seemed to freeze.

Roman turned his head slowly toward the reporter.

I almost laughed from disbelief.

“No.”

The reporter sat down.

I leaned toward Roman.

“Was that necessary?”

“What?”

“That look.”

“I didn't do anything.”

“You looked like you wanted to kill him.”

“I didn't.”

I smiled.

“You did.”

The press conference continued for another twenty minutes.

By the time it ended, my head hurt.

Roman stood first.

I followed.

We walked backstage.

The moment the doors closed behind us, I released a breath.

“I think I just aged ten years.”

Roman looked at me.

“You handled it well.”

“Thank you.”

“You didn't panic.”

“I wanted to.”

“I know.”

I looked at him.

“How?”

“You were crushing my hand.”

I looked down.

My fingers were still wrapped around his.

I immediately let go.

“Oh.”

He looked at his hand.

“You almost broke it.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“You're dramatic.”

He smiled.

“You're strong.”

I laughed.

“I'm taking that as a compliment.”

“It was.”

For some reason, that tiny moment felt more real than everything we'd just done in front of the cameras.

Then my assistant rushed into the room.

“Daria.”

“What?”

She looked at her phone.

“You need to see this.”

She handed it to me.

The internet had completely exploded.

Our announcement was everywhere.

DARIA VALE AND ROMAN BLACKWELL ARE GETTING MARRIED.

THE WORLD'S MOST POWERFUL CORPORATE COUPLE?

WHAT HAPPENED TO DARIA'S PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT?

VALE-BLACKWELL ALLIANCE COULD SHAKE GLOBAL MARKETS.

There were millions of comments already.

Some people loved us.

Some hated us.

Some were trying to figure out how we'd even met.

And then I saw one comment.

They look like they actually like each other.

I stared at it.

Roman glanced over my shoulder.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

I locked the phone.

“Nothing.”

He looked at me for another second.

Then his phone rang.

He answered.

“Roman.”

His expression changed.

Not dramatically.

Just enough for me to notice.

“What happened?”

He listened.

“Don't do anything yet.”

A pause.

“Send everything to my office.”

He ended the call.

I looked at him.

“Problem?”

“Nothing I can't resolve.”

“What kind?”

He slipped his phone into his pocket.

“Your former fiancé just called an emergency meeting with several Vale shareholders.”

My stomach dropped.

“What?”

“He's moving faster than we expected.”

I stared at him.

The excitement from the press conference disappeared completely.

“What is he trying to do?”

Roman looked at me.

“Take control of your company.”

And suddenly, our fake marriage had become a lot more complicated than either of us had planned.