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Accidentally His Husband. Novel Cover

Accidentally His Husband.

Soren Knight was meant to marry the perfect bride. Instead, a drunken night in Vegas left him with a husband he barely knew. Adrian Vega never asked for a billionaire's world, or the spotlight that came with it. But one reckless marriage ties him to a man who sees love as weakness and business as everything. What begins as a deal to protect Soren's empire soon turns into something dangerously real. Between scandals, betrayal, and a secret that links Adrian's past to Soren's family, their mistake might be the one thing neither of them can walk away from.
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Chapter 8

Adrian's Pov

"Keep your head up."

That's what Soren said right before we stepped out of the car and into a sea of flashing lights.

The noise hit me first, shutters clicking, voices shouting my name, questions flying like bullets. I froze for half a second before his hand brushed against mine. It wasn't a touch, not really, just a small, grounding reminder that I wasn't walking into this alone.

Except... I was.

Because this was Soren Knight's world, not mine. The marble steps, the cameras, the expensive suits, it all belonged to him. I was just the headline that wouldn't go away.

He walked ahead, straight-backed and calm, his face carved from stone. I followed half a step behind, doing my best to look like I belonged beside him.

We reached the podium. A dozen microphones waited, red lights blinking like warning signs. The room fell into a heavy silence.

Soren adjusted his tie, then leaned forward. "Good afternoon," he began, his voice smooth and cold, every syllable controlled. "I know there's been speculation about my marriage and about my relationship with Celeste Moreau. I'll make this clear once...."

"Did you cheat on her?" a reporter yelled. "Was this marriage to Adrian Vega part of a cover-up?"

Soren didn't even blink. "No. My marriage to Adrian Vega was impulsive, yes. But it's real. And it's private."

Real. The word hit me like a slap.

Everyone turned their cameras toward me. I felt the heat of a hundred stares. Some curious, some cruel.

"Mr. Vega," another reporter said sharply, "what do you say to accusations that you targeted Mr. Knight for his money?"

I swallowed hard. "I didn't......."

"Did he pay you?" another shouted. "Are you in this for the publicity?"

The room buzzed louder, questions blurring together. I opened my mouth again, but Soren's hand rested on my arm, stopping me.

"That's enough," he said firmly. His voice carried authority, the kind that silenced a room.

But it didn't stop what came next.

The doors at the back opened. I didn't need to turn to know who it was. The sharp click of heels was enough.

Celeste Moreau.

She moved like she owned the air. Her white suit was pristine, her hair gleaming under the lights, her expression heartbreak carved into perfection.

"I'm sorry for the interruption," she said sweetly, though her eyes were knives. "But the public deserves the truth."

Soren's shoulders stiffened. "Celeste, this isn't your platform......"

"Oh, but it is." She turned to the cameras, voice trembling just enough. "I loved Soren Knight. We were engaged. Until I discovered his affair with Adrian Vega."

Gasps rippled through the room.

I felt my chest tighten. "That's a lie."

Celeste's lips curved. "Really? Then maybe you'd like to explain this."

She pulled out a sleek tablet and lifted it so everyone could see the video playing. My stomach dropped.

It was footage from the Vegas chapel, me and Soren laughing, slurring, stumbling toward the altar. My voice rang out, loud and drunk: "Come on, Mr. Knight. Scared to marry me?"

The crowd erupted. Cameras flashed like lightning.

I couldn't breathe.

Celeste's voice cut through the chaos. "He trapped Soren into this marriage for money. For fame. And now he's ruining everything Soren's father built."

The reporters shouted again, all at once. "Mr. Vega! Did you seduce him for his money?" "Mr. Knight, are you being blackmailed?"

Soren's face was unreadable, his jaw tight, his hand still gripping the podium.

I wanted to speak. I wanted to scream that it wasn't true. That none of it was planned. But the words stuck in my throat.

"Enough!" Soren's voice thundered through the room, silencing everything. "This press conference is over."

He turned sharply, grabbing my wrist. "We're leaving."

He pulled me through the crowd, ignoring the flashes, the shouting, the chaos. I stumbled after him, blinking against the lights. My heart felt like it was being crushed in my chest.

By the time we reached the car, my pulse was a drum.

He didn't speak. Neither did I. The car door slammed shut, trapping us in heavy silence.

"Adrian," he said finally, voice low. "Don't believe a word she said."

I laughed bitterly. "You think anyone else won't?"

His jaw twitched. "This is what she does. She manipulates, she twists....."

"She showed proof, Soren! Video proof! Do you realize how that looks?"

He turned to me, eyes burning. "I don't care how it looks."

"Well, I do!" I snapped. "Because it's my name being dragged through hell. My mom's crying herself sick. Everyone thinks I used you. Do you even care about that?"

His silence was answer enough.

I stared at him. "You don't, do you? You just care about control. About winning."

"That's not true."

"Then tell me what this is," I said quietly. "Tell me what I am to you."

His lips parted, but no sound came out.

I shook my head. "You can't even say it."

I turned toward the window, my chest tight, my throat burning. The city blurred by in streaks of light.

When we reached the penthouse, I got out before he could open his door. I didn't look back as I slammed it shut behind me.

The elevator ride felt endless. When the doors opened, the quiet of the apartment almost hurt.

I walked straight to my room, but stopped halfway. My phone was buzzing. Dozens of missed calls. Dozens of messages.

And one new text. From an unknown number.

He's lying to you, Adrian. Meet me if you want the truth.

Below it was an address.

My stomach twisted. I knew that tone. That manipulation. It had to be Nathan Cross, the man who'd smirked through every scandal and smiled like a vulture.

I should've deleted it. I should've ignored it. But I needed answers.

Because Soren wouldn't give me any.

The place was an abandoned restaurant near downtown, windows covered, lights dim. I stepped inside slowly.

Nathan was already waiting, sitting at a table like he owned the shadows.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, his smile sharp. "But I'm glad you came."

"What do you want?" I asked.

He gestured to the chair opposite him. "I want to help you. You deserve to know who you married."

"I already know," I said.

He laughed softly. "Do you?"

He slid a thin folder across the table. I stared at it, hesitant.

"Inside," he said smoothly, "are contracts, emails, payments-proof that Soren's marriage to you wasn't just a scandal. It was his strategy. He used you to sabotage Celeste's deal, to provoke Victor, and to secure full control of his shares. You were never his mistake, Adrian. You were his weapon."

I froze. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" He leaned forward. "You think a man like Soren does anything without purpose? You were convenient. Disposable. And now you're the perfect scapegoat for his downfall."

The words cut deeper than I wanted them to.

Nathan saw it. He smiled wider. "He'll destroy you, Adrian. Just like he destroys everything he touches. You could walk away now... or you could help me end him before he ends you."

I pushed back from the table, shaking my head. "You're lying."

"Am I?" His voice dropped. "Ask him about Project Helix. Ask him why your name is listed in his private files. Then decide who's lying."

I turned and walked out, his voice echoing behind me.

"Careful, Adrian. You're playing with a man who doesn't know how to lose."

By the time I got back, the penthouse was dark except for the city lights spilling through the windows. Soren was there-waiting, sitting on the couch, his sleeves rolled up, his eyes shadowed.

"Where were you?" His voice was calm, but the edge was sharp.

"I needed air."

"Don't lie to me."

I clenched my jaw. "Why? You lie all the time."

He stood, slow and dangerous. "What did he tell you?"

I met his gaze. "He told me about Project Helix."

The change in his expression was instant, a flicker of surprise, then cold steel.

I stepped closer, my heart pounding. "Tell me, Soren. Is that why you married me? Was I part of your deal? Your plan?"

He didn't answer.

That silence was louder than any confession.

My throat tightened. "Say something!"

He moved closer until we were inches apart, his eyes burning into mine.

"You wouldn't understand," he said finally.

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