Engaged to my Billionaire Rival

Chapter 10

A knock sounded at the door before Alex could respond. It opened a second later without waiting for permission.

Iris slipped inside first, her expression already lit with barely contained excitement. She was followed closely by Alex’s assistant, who looked far more overwhelmed.

“Oh my god,” Iris said, the words spilling out in a rush as the door shut behind her. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”

Alex didn’t even look at her. “Yes. I detonated my professional reputation in front of the entire financial press.”

“You broke the internet,” Iris corrected, already pulling out her phone. “This is everywhere. Every outlet, every platform. It’s trending globally.”

Iris turned the screen toward Alex, who reluctantly glanced at it. Images filled the display. Ones of her and Callan on stand, their hands intertwined. The moment was frozen from a dozen different angles, each one more intimate than it had felt in reality.

Headlines scrolled beneath them.

Billionaire Rivals Shock World with Engagement

Ashford & Adkins: Power Move or Real Romance?

From Enemies to Fiancés—What Are They Hiding?

Alex exhaled slowly. “Fantastic.”

Iris grinned. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” Alex said, exasperated.

“No, but you definitely needed it,” Iris replied with a grin.

“Needed to be publicly analyzed by strangers?”

“Needed to stop pretending you don’t thrive under pressure,” Iris shot back.

Callan, who had remained silent through the exchange, stepped forward just enough to glance at the screen. “Public perception is favorable,” he noted.

Alex shot him a glare. “That’s your takeaway?”

He shrugs. “It’s an important one.”

She fully turned toward him now, irritation sharpening again. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Enjoying what?”

“The chaos. The control,” she says. “The fact that this entire situation now benefits you.”

His gaze held hers, steady and unflinching. “It benefits both of us,” he said.

“Does it?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

The certainty in his voice should have been reassuring. Instead, it unsettled her. Because for the first time since signing that contract, she wasn’t entirely sure she knew where she ended and this arrangement began. And that was a very dangerous problem.

By the time they returned to the penthouse, the city had already moved on.

Not entirely as the headlines were still spreading and speculation was still building. But Manhattan had resumed its rhythm in the way it always did, swallowing even the most explosive moments into the constant churn on something new. Traffic hummed far below, lights flickered on across the skyline, and the world continued as if nothing monumental had shifted.

Alex stepped out of the elevator first, heels clicking softly against the marble as she crossed into the open expanse of Callan’s living space, the silence greeting them like something waiting.

There were no cameras, no reporters, no audience. There was just…quiet.

She didn’t realize how much she’d been bracing against the noise until it was gone.

Behind her, Callan loosened his tie as he walked in, the movements slow and deliberate as if he were shedding the last remnants of the public version of himself piece by piece. The jacket came off next, draped over the back of a chair without a second thought, his posture shifting in subtle ways that made him feel less like a man on the sage and more like something real.

Alex moved toward the windows without thinking, drawn to the familiar pull of the skyline. Her reflection faintly stared back at her in the glass as the city stretched endlessly beyond it.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence was heavy and full, like it had something to say, if either of them were willing to listen.

“You did well,” Callan said finally, his voice quieter than she’d ever heard it.

Alex didn’t turn. “That almost sounded like a compliment,” she said.

He let out a small laugh. “It was, Alex.”

She let out a soft breath, her gaze still fixed on the city. “Careful, Callan. You’re going to ruin your reputation.”

He grunted. “My reputation has survived worse.”

That pulled at the corner of her mouth, almost turning it into a smile, though it didn’t quite make it. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said after a moment.

“Do what?” he asks.

“The hand,” she clarified. “The way you…” She trailed off, searching for the right word and finding none that didn’t sound ridiculous. “It wasn’t necessary.”

Callan didn’t answer immediately. When she finally turned, she found him leaning lightly against the kitchen counter. He watched her in that steady, assessing way that always made her feel like he saw more than he should.

“It wasn’t for them,” he said.

Her brows pulled together. “Then who was it for?”

He paused briefly, enough to get her thinking. “For you,” he finally said. The words were quiet, but they carried weight.

Alex blinked, thrown. “That doesn’t make sense,” she said, defaulting to logic, something she could control.

“It doesn’t have to.”

She let out a short breath, shaking her head slightly as she turned back toward the window, but the moment didn’t settle the way she expected it to. It lingered and pressed in on her as she quietly surveyed Manhattan laid out below her.

“Why me?” she asked after a while, her voice softer now, less defensive.

Callan’s gaze didn’t waver. “We’ve been over this.”

“No,” she said, turning back toward him again. Something sharp cut through the quiet. “You’ve given me answers. You haven’t given me the truth.”

His expression shifted. “What difference does it make?” he asked.

“It makes all the difference,” she replied. “Because I need to know if I’m standing here because I’m convenient…or because I’m the only option you had left.” The words hung between them, heavier than anything they’d said all day.

Callan pushed off the counter slowly, closing the distance between them in a way that felt intentional and measured, like he was choosing each step rather than reacting to it.

“You think I didn’t have options?” he asked quietly, almost predatorily.

Alex’s heart rate spiked, but she tried to act like the way he was stalking towards her didn’t affect her. “I think you always have options.”

“Then why do you think I chose you?” He asked the question slowly, enunciating each word.

Alex held his gaze, refusing to look away even as an unfamiliar feeling tightened in her chest. “Because I was already within reach,” she said. “Because you knew I couldn’t say no.”

Something close to anger flickered in his gaze. “Is that what you believe?” he asked.

She shrugged. “It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

Another step closer. Now there was barely space between them.

Callan’s gaze dragged slowly down her, landing on her lips, before returning to her eyes. “You’re wrong,” he whispered. The certainty in his voice did something dangerous to her composure.