"So? This is exactly what we were trying to avoid! Your reputation, the endorsements?—"
I kiss her forehead. "Let me make some coffee while you process this."
She follows me to the kitchen, still clutching her phone. "Sebastian, this is serious. He's trying to destroy everything you've worked so hard for."
"He can try."
The thing she doesn't understand yet is that nothing Kyle does matters anymore. Four days at the cabin showed me what matters, and it isn't endorsements or public opinion. It's her. It's us.
Change my mind.
Maddison sitscross-legged on the couch, her laptop balanced on her knees, phone pressed to her ear. I set a mug of coffee on the side table and sink onto the couch beside her.
"Yes, I understand the timeline concerns," she says into the phone. "But context matters here. We have witnesses who heard what he said about me before Sebastian intervened."
On the screen, Kyle's rat-like face is freeze-framed in mid-sentence. The video shows me shoving him against the wall, his camera falling. What it doesn't show is the five minutes before that—his disgusting comments about Maddison, his hand reaching for her.
"It's trending on three platforms," she continues. "We need to issue a statement within the hour."
I slide my hand under her shirt, tracing circles on her lower back. She shoots me a look but doesn't move away.
"No, absolutely not. Sebastian will not be apologizing." Her voice hardens. "Because he was defending me, that's why."
I lean closer, studying her profile—the tight set of her jaw, the sharp intelligence in her eyes. On the ice, I can read plays before they develop, anticipate where the puck is heading. I've always had that instinct. And right now, every instinct tells me to let her handle this her way.
"Yes, we have the full unedited footage from the venue security cameras," she says. "I'll send it over as soon as we hang up."
When she finally ends the call, she immediately starts typing furiously.
"Kyle's claiming I married my assistant to rehabilitate my image," I say, reading over her shoulder. "Original. Really groundbreaking stuff."
"Sebastian, this isn't funny. He's specifically attacking our marriage. Calling it a PR stunt." She doesn't look up from her laptop. "The irony would be hilarious if it wasn't so potentially damaging."
I sweep her hair aside and press my lips to her nape. "It's a little funny … because he's kinda right."
"He's saying I'm just a 'glorified secretary' you married for convenience." Her fingers fly across the keyboard. "That I'm using you for your money and fame."
"You do have my credit card, and you did agree to a hundred grand per month," I whisper against her skin. "And you've been photographed with me. Highly suspicious."
She elbows me lightly. "I'm trying to save your career here, and we already talked about the money. I'm not taking it."
I move my hands to her shoulders, feeling the tension knotted there. "Baby, my career doesn't need saving, and of course you don't need a hundred grand per month. Your allowance is double that."
"Your Velocity endorsement is worth eight million." She leans back into my touch despite herself. "That's just one of five major deals at risk."
I knead the tight muscles at the base of her neck. "All numbers on paper. Not real."
"Tell that to your bank account."
"My bank account will survive." I press deeper into a knot, and she lets out a small moan. "What matters is right here."
For the next hour, I watch her work. It's like watching game film of a particularly brilliant play—the efficiency of her movements, the strategy behind every decision. She fields calls from my agent and mostly just communicates with Anya. She drafts statements, reviews footage, charts out response scenarios. There's a reason she's Anya's favorite.
I bring her fresh coffee, steal kisses between calls, keep one hand on her at all times—her knee, her back, twirling a strand of her hair. She pretends to be annoyed but leans into every touch.
While she talks, I trace the shell of her ear with my lips. She swats at me half-heartedly.
"I understand timing is critical," she continues. "We'll issue the initial statement in twenty minutes and follow with the security footage within the hour."
