Accidentally His Husband.

SOREN'S Pov

The door to the guest room closed softly behind him.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space where Adrian had been, listening to the faint sound of his footsteps fade down the hall. The silence that followed was sharp.

I should have been relieved. Silence was familiar. Silence meant control.

But tonight, it felt heavier.

I loosened my tie, walked to the window, and stared out at the city, my kingdom of glass and light. From here, it all looked perfect. Ordered. Predictable. Every building, every reflection exactly where it belonged.

Except the one thing I couldn't seem to control was the person sleeping two doors away.

Adrian Vega. A mistake that refused to disappear.

A storm that somehow made the air feel alive again.

I hated that thought.

I pressed a hand against the cold glass, my reflection staring back at me like a stranger. My father's words from two nights ago still echoed in my mind. You've become soft, Soren. Weak.

Maybe he was right.

Because for the first time in years, I'd hesitated. I'd let emotion interfere.

When Celeste went public, I should have countered her move immediately, destroyed her credibility, buried her with evidence of her lies. Instead, I'd wasted time trying to calm him.

Adrian had looked at me like I'd ruined his life, and for a split second, that had mattered more than winning.

I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly. Weakness. That's what it was. And weakness in my world was a weapon others used to kill you.

I'd built my life around control. Around numbers, contracts, outcomes I could predict. Adrian was none of that. He was chaos. Emotion. Unplanned.

And yet, somehow, he was also necessary now.

The next morning came fast. I was already in the boardroom by seven.

Nathan sat across the table, looking too smug for someone who should've been loyal. He tossed a folder toward me. "Press coverage from last night. You're trending in thirty countries. Half the media thinks it's a publicity stunt. The other half thinks you've lost your mind."

"Then it's working," I said flatly.

He smirked. "You really think pretending to be in love with him will fix this?"

"Perception is power," I said. "If they see us united, they'll stop looking for cracks."

Nathan leaned back, folding his arms. "Funny. Because from where I'm standing, the cracks are the only real thing you have left."

I ignored him and opened the folder. Articles, photos, headlines, all screaming versions of the same story. The Billionaire and the Nobody.

I flipped through page after page until I reached one image that made my hand still.

It was us, me and Adrian, standing side by side at the press conference. My hand was on his back. His face was turned slightly toward me, caught between fear and defiance.

And somehow, it didn't look fake.

Nathan must've noticed my hesitation. "Careful, Knight. People might start thinking you actually care."

I looked up sharply. "Watch your mouth."

He smiled lazily. "Just saying. You're not the only one who sees it. The board's whispering. They think this marriage has changed you."

"It hasn't."

He stood, adjusting his cufflinks. "Keep telling yourself that."

When he was gone, I sat back and stared at the photo again. My fingers brushed against the edge of the paper.

Changed you. The idea bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

By noon, I was back at the penthouse. Adrian was already awake, sitting on the couch with a stack of newspapers spread across the table.

He didn't notice me at first. He was too busy reading, his brow furrowed, lips pressed tight.

"They really hate me," he muttered.

I said nothing, watching him quietly.

He glanced up, startled. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Every headline says the same thing. I'm a gold digger. A scam artist. Someone who trapped you."

"Do you believe them?" I asked.

He frowned. "No. But everyone else does."

"Let them," I said. "They'll get bored eventually."

He shook his head. "You don't get it. You've lived your whole life behind that name. You're untouchable. I'm not. People know where I live. They're calling my mother's hospital. They're saying things, awful things."

His voice cracked slightly, and for a moment, I didn't know what to do. I wasn't built for comfort. I didn't know how to fix pain that wasn't measurable.

"I'll handle it," I said finally.

"How?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "You can't control the whole world, Soren."

"Watch me."

He let out a hollow laugh. "You really believe that, don't you?"

I stepped closer, my tone sharpening. "If I can't control it, I'll destroy it."

He looked at me then, not scared, but sad. "You sound just like him."

I froze. "Like who?"

"Your father."

The air between us shifted. My chest went cold, my pulse sharp. "Don't compare me to him."

"Then stop acting like him," he said quietly. "Stop trying to fix everything by force. Some things don't need power, Soren. They just need honesty."

Honesty. A word I'd forgotten how to use.

I turned away, walking toward the window. "You think I can walk into a boardroom and fix this with honesty? You think power listens to truth? It doesn't. It listens to fear."

He didn't answer right away. Then, softly, he said, "Then I hope someday you learn what fear costs."

The silence that followed was deep enough to drown in.

He stood, gathering the papers, and walked past me. His shoulder brushed mine, and I caught the faint scent of his cologne, warm, subtle, familiar in a way that shouldn't have been.

When he reached the door, he stopped. "I'm going to see my mom tonight."

"Fine," I said, though something about it made my chest tighten.

"She doesn't know," he added quietly. "About all of this. I want to keep it that way."

"That's your choice."

He nodded once and left.

The door closed, leaving me alone again with the echo of his words.

You sound just like him.

I sank into the chair and stared at the city outside.

The truth was, he wasn't wrong.

I'd spent so long fighting not to be my father that I'd become everything he taught me to be anyway, cold, distant, untouchable.

And yet Adrian, with his stubborn heart and sharp tongue, had managed to chip away at that armor in just days.

It was infuriating. It was dangerous.

Because if he could make me feel, he could destroy me.

Hours passed. The sky darkened. I was still at my desk when the phone rang.

Unknown number.

I answered. "Knight."

There was a pause, then a voice I didn't recognize said, "You should tell your husband to be careful."

I sat up straight. "Who is this?"

The voice laughed, a low, distorted sound. "He doesn't belong in your world, Soren. Someone's going to remind him of that soon."

The line went dead.

For a second, I just sat there, frozen. Then I called Nathan.

He picked up after two rings. "What now?"

"Find out who just called me," I ordered. "Trace it. I want names."

"What did they say?"

"They mentioned Adrian."

There was a pause on his end. "You think it's Celeste?"

"Or my father," I said darkly. "Either way, if they touch him....."

Nathan cut me off. "You're starting to sound personal, Knight. Don't tell me the boy's gotten under your skin."

I didn't answer.

He chuckled. "Careful. Attachments are dangerous in your line of work."

When I hung up, my pulse was still racing.

I walked to the window again, staring out at the city. Somewhere out there, Adrian was alone. Vulnerable. And if that call meant what I thought it did... someone was already moving against him.

I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door.

Because whether I wanted to admit it or not....

He wasn't just a mistake anymore. He was mine.