Richard's Penthouse – Early Morning
Richard had just returned from his morning run when his phone rang sharply on the kitchen counter. He saw the name Miranda Green, his trusted executive assistant. He rarely got calls from her this early.
He answered with a crisp, "Yes?"
Miranda's voice was tight with urgency. "Sir… we have a situation."
Richard instantly straightened. "Talk."
"I'm sending you a link now. It's all over social media. You were... photographed last night at the Velaris rooftop. With a woman."
Richard froze, then he let out a sharp breath through his nose, walking toward the window.
"I saw the flash last night. I knew someone had taken it. I just didn't think they'd be bold or stupid enough to spread it."
"Well, they were," Miranda said. "And they're eating it up. Speculations, threads, blurry zoom-ins. They're calling her your hidden lover, an undercover heiress, even a political distraction."
"Ridiculous," he muttered.
"She's trending. They already know her name Pearl Grey. Some are saying she's your fiancée. And some say"That she's your secret girlfriend… or a mistress. Some say it's a publicity stunt. Others are digging into her identity already."
Richard's silence was heavy.
Richard clenched his jaw. He rubbed the back of his neck, the weight of it all suddenly pressing down. "This wasn't supposed to blow up like this."
"Should I prepare a statement?" Miranda offered.
"No," he replied coolly. "Let the fire burn a little."
"Understood?".
"Find out who the hell took that picture. And—" his voice lowered, colder "—get her security. Discreet. If they're already digging, I don't want the press showing up at her doorstep."
Miranda didn't miss a beat. "I'll handle it. Anything else?"
Richard looked again at the picture. At the soft curve of Pearl's cheek, the way she leaned into him without realizing it.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Don't let anyone know where she is. Not yet."
"Got it."
The call ended.
Richard Harrison stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, the sprawling city of Montelucia slowly waking beneath him. The soft glow of dawn barely touched the sharp angles of his face, but the tension in his jaw was impossible to miss.
In his hand was a tablet, the screen displaying a photo he couldn't erase from his mind, the one taken last night on the rooftop balcony. Pearl Grey leaning close against him, her head resting lightly near his chest, his hand low on her waist. The moment looked intimate. Too intimate for a rescue gone right at a wild party.
His eyes narrowed as the reality hit him—the photo was already everywhere. It had exploded on social media before sunrise. Montelucia gossip blogs were ablaze with speculation.
Richard Harrison's secret lover?
Mystery woman caught in private embrace with billionaire Richard Harrison.
He placed the tablet on the glass desk and ran a hand through his hair, trying to will away the headache threatening to build.
His phone vibrated. A message from his PR director, Eloise.
> "Multiple outlets have published the photo. It's trending hard. Should we respond?"
Richard's fingers flew over the keyboard.
> "No response. Silence. Let them speculate."
He set the phone down and stared out the window. The city that never truly slept was already buzzing, but he had to think clearly. The Zenith Contract review was two weeks away, but the mess this photo could cause wasn't just about business. It was personal.
Richard hated losing control.
He pushed off from the window and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a strong black coffee to steady his nerves. And also thinking on whether he should give her a call or not.
The image haunted him. Pearl's soft, vulnerable expression. The warmth of her skin brushing against his own as he held her out there on the balcony. The way her hair had fallen over her shoulder. It was real. Unplanned.
He hadn't stopped the camera flash. Nor the photographer.
Part of him admired the calculated risk—it was a reminder that not everything could be controlled.
But the other part… the part that dealt with the cold, ruthless world of business and power… bristled.
Pearl's Apartment – Morning
Pearl's eyelids fluttered open to the harsh light flooding through the thin curtains. Her head throbbed, a dull pain settling behind her eyes. Last night's wild party and the drinks she barely remembered slammed into her like a wave.
She was not at home.
Where was she? The unfamiliar ceiling, the soft hum of voices downstairs—it was Aria's place.
A surge of panic rippled through her chest. Her phone was on the bedside table, buzzing wildly.
Her hands trembled as she grabbed it, unlocking a flood of missed calls and texts. Hundreds of notifications.
The first thing she saw stopped her cold.
The photo.
Pearl leaning against Richard Harrison on the rooftop balcony. The soft city lights paint a glow behind them. The closeness in the image was impossible to ignore.
Comments poured in below the post.
"Richard Harrison's secret lover finally revealed!"
"She's so lucky—I wish I could be her!"
"Is this a scandal or a new power couple?"
"Who is she? Some party girl playing games?"
Her breath hitched. She hadn't even realized the photo was taken.
The door creaked and Aria stepped inside, phone pressed to her ear, eyes wide with alarm.
"Pearl! It's everywhere. Montelucia social media is exploding with this! You have to do something now."
Pearl's voice shook. "I don't know what to do, Aria. I didn't want any of this. What if Mr. Harrison hates me? This is my fault. I caused this."
Aria put down her phone, stepping closer. "You didn't ask for this, but you have to own it. You need to talk to him, explain, or this will ruin you."
A million thoughts raced through Pearl's mind.
Pearl sank back onto the bed, heart pounding. Her thoughts were spinning when her phone suddenly buzzed on the nightstand.
Caller ID: Unknown Number.
She exchanged a nervous glance with Aria before picking it up. With hesitant fingers, she answered.
"Hello?" she said softly.
A moment of silence followed.
Then a clear, deep voice spoke from the other side.
"Miss Grey?"
Pearl's eyes widened. She checked the screen again. Unknown number. Her expression shifted with surprise and confusion as she pressed the phone closer to her ear.
"I'm sorry, may I know who this is?"
A brief pause.
"It's me. Richard Harrison."