THE BILLIONAIRE'S HIDDEN CONTRACT WIFE

The Press Release

*Chapter Two: The Press Release*

BILLIONAIRE CEO ADRIAN BLACKWELL MARRIES MYSTERY WOMAN IN PRIVATE CEREMONY

Elena stared at her phone in the penthouse kitchen, coffee going cold in her hands. The article paired a grainy photo of her stepping out of Adrian’s car last night with a stock image of a diamond ring.

Sources confirm the bride is 28-year-old Elena Parker, a graphic designer with no prior public ties to the Blackwell family.

No prior ties. That was the point.

“Don’t read the comments,” Adrian said from the doorway, already in a tailored charcoal suit. He looked like he hadn’t slept. “They’re speculation and 80% fiction.”

“You didn’t warn me it would go live this early,” Elena said. She set the phone down before she cracked the screen. “My brother’s going to see this before I can explain.”

Adrian walked past her to pour his own coffee. “I thought it was better to control the narrative than let the tabloids invent one. The board meeting is Friday. This buys us credibility.”

Credibility. Right. As if a fake marriage was a PR strategy.

Elena pulled her blazer tighter. “Rule one was separate residences. I’m still in your penthouse.”

“The security team advised against you going home. Paparazzi are outside your building.” He handed her the coffee anyway. Black, no sugar. Somehow he’d remembered. “Two weeks. Then we find you a place.”

Two weeks of sharing an elevator, a floor, and a last name with a man who treated conversation like a boardroom negotiation.

The intercom buzzed. Adrian’s assistant: “Mr. Blackwell, the car is downstairs. And Ms. Vance is in the lobby.”

Adrian’s expression hardened. Ms. Vance. His ex-fiancée.

Elena set the coffee down. “I’ll stay up here.”

“No.” He said it too quickly, then caught himself. “You’re my wife. Publicly. If she’s here, you’re here.”

The elevator ride down was silent except for the soft ding of floors. When the doors opened, Serena Vance was already there, red dress, red lipstick, red anger.

“Adrian.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I heard congratulations are in order.”

She looked Elena up and down, assessment sharp and dismissive. “Graphic designer, huh? Charming.”

Elena met her gaze. “Serena. I’ve seen your work too. Mostly in the gossip columns.”

The colour drained from Serena’s face. Adrian’s mouth twitched, almost a smile.

“Let’s go,” he said, placing a hand lightly at Elena’s lower back. It was for show. It was also warm, and Elena had to force herself not to step away.

The cameras flashed the moment they stepped outside. Elena kept her chin up and her expression neutral, just like Adrian had coached her.

Act like you belong here. Even if you don’t feel it yet.

The car door closed behind them, and the noise of the city was muffled by tinted glass.

For the first time since she signed the contract, Elena realized there was no going back.