Chapter 87 — Official Statement
By noon, the world already knew.
Amber didn't remember when her life had turned into a headline.
But sometime between waking up in Alex's arms and stepping into the Wilson Group headquarters, privacy had officially died.
The building lobby had never felt this loud before.
Cameras.
Flashes.
Whispers.
Phones raised like weapons.
Even from inside the tinted car, she could see them.
Reporters packed behind barricades.
Security doubled.
Microphones with network logos she recognized.
And the worst part?
They weren't waiting for Alex.
They were waiting for her.
Her name floated through the air like gossip made flesh.
"That's her—"
"Amber Gareth—"
"The rumored wife—"
"Gold digger—"
"She's pretty though—"
"Is it confirmed—?"
Amber exhaled slowly.
Steady.
Control.
Control.
Control.
Beside her, Alex watched the scene without emotion.
Calm.
Always calm.
Like chaos bent around him instead of touching him.
"How many?" she asked quietly.
"Thirty-seven reporters outside. Twelve inside," he replied.
She blinked. "You counted?"
"I always count."
Of course he did.
She shook her head. "You're insane."
"Prepared."
"Same thing."
A corner of his mouth almost moved.
Almost.
Then it was gone.
The car door opened.
Immediately—
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
Light exploded everywhere.
Voices shouting.
"Mr. Wilson! Are you engaged?"
"Miss Gareth, are you living together?"
"Is this a publicity marriage?"
"Are you pregnant?"
Amber nearly choked.
Pregnant?!
These people were mad.
Alex stepped out first.
Instant silence rippled.
It always happened.
That strange shift.
Like predators recognizing a bigger one.
He didn't raise his voice.
Didn't glare.
Didn't threaten.
He just stood there.
And the air changed.
Power wasn't loud with him.
It was quiet.
Controlled.
Deadly.
He turned back and held out his hand.
Not for the cameras.
For her.
The gesture wasn't showy.
Wasn't dramatic.
Just simple.
Steady.
Waiting.
Amber stared at it for half a second too long.
This was it.
The point of no return.
If she took his hand—
Everything became real.
No more hiding.
No more pretending distance.
No more "temporary."
The world would see them as one unit.
Together.
A pair.
A story.
And stories were hard to escape.
Her chest tightened.
Then—
She placed her hand in his.
Warm.
Firm.
Certain.
His fingers closed around hers instantly.
Not loose.
Not polite.
Secure.
Like he had no intention of letting go.
The flashes went insane.
Reporters shouting louder.
They walked forward together.
Slow.
Controlled.
Like they owned the ground.
Inside, the marble floors reflected the chaos.
Security blocked the press, but microphones still pushed forward.
"Sir! Is she your fiancée?"
"Is the board forcing this?"
"Is the marriage contract real?"
"Are you stepping down as CEO?"
Amber stiffened.
That one hit.
Stepping down?
She glanced at Alex.
His expression didn't change.
But his grip tightened slightly.
Barely noticeable.
Unless you were her.
They reached the private elevator.
Doors sliding shut.
Noise cut off instantly.
Silence.
Just the hum of the lift.
Amber let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
"Well," she muttered, "that was violent."
"They're afraid," Alex said.
"Of what? Love?"
"Of losing control."
She glanced at him.
He looked thoughtful now.
Distant.
Boardroom mode.
Dangerous mode.
"What aren't you telling me?" she asked.
He didn't answer immediately.
Which meant everything.
"…Alex."
"The board called an emergency meeting this morning."
Her stomach dropped.
"And?"
"They think you're a liability."
She laughed.
Short.
Sharp.
"Wow. Straight to the point, huh?"
"They believe emotional involvement weakens leadership."
"So their solution is what? Break us up?"
"Yes."
The word hit harder than it should have.
"Yes," he repeated calmly. "Or they'll move for a vote."
"A vote for what?"
"My removal."
Silence.
Her heart stuttered.
"…They can do that?"
"If enough shareholders align, yes."
"You built that company."
"Yes."
"And they'd kick you out because of me?"
"They would try."
Her throat tightened painfully.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
This started as a deal.
A clean, beneficial arrangement.
Not—
Not this.
Not risking his entire empire.
"Then end it," she said suddenly.
The words tasted like poison.
His head snapped toward her.
"What?"
"End it publicly," she forced out. "Say we broke up. Say it was fake. Blame me. I don't care."
"Amber—"
"I'm serious. Your company matters more."
"No."
"Alex—"
"No."
His voice wasn't loud.
But it cut.
Sharp.
Final.
The elevator stopped.
Doors slid open.
Executive floor.
Empty.
Quiet.
He stepped out first, then turned to face her fully.
Close.
Too close.
His eyes were darker than usual.
Not cold.
Fierce.
"You think I'd trade you for a board seat?" he asked quietly.
"This isn't about romance, it's about your life's work—"
"You are my life now."
Her breath left her lungs.
Gone.
Vanished.
No warning.
No build-up.
Just—
Truth.
Blunt.
Unfiltered.
Dangerous.
He stepped closer.
Close enough that she could feel his warmth again.
"You're not temporary," he said. "Not negotiable. Not expendable."
Her heart slammed so hard it hurt.
"This is exactly what I was afraid of," she whispered.
"Why?"
"Because if you talk like that…"
Her voice cracked.
"…I might actually stay."
Silence stretched between them.
Thick.
Heavy.
Real.
Then his phone rang.
Sharp.
Intrusive.
Breaking everything.
He glanced at the screen.
Jaw tightening.
"The board," he said.
"Already?"
"They want a statement. Now."
Her pulse kicked up.
"What kind of statement?"
His gaze locked with hers.
Steady.
Certain.
The same look from the bedroom.
From the car.
From every moment he chose her.
"The kind that makes this permanent."
Her heart stumbled.
"…Permanent how?"
His voice dropped.
Dangerously calm.
"I'm done pretending you're just a contract, Amber."
Her fingers curled slowly.
"Alex…"
"If they want clarity," he continued, "I'll give them clarity."
He lifted the phone.
Answered.
And said the one sentence that changed everything:
"Prepare a public statement. Effective immediately… Miss Gareth is not temporary. She's staying."
Pause.
Then—
"No. Not a partner."
His eyes never left hers.
"Future wife."
The world tilted.
Because suddenly—
This wasn't survival anymore.
This was commitment.
And commitment…
Was the one thing Amber Gareth had never learned how to survive.