Alexander's press conference room is a shark tank. It's wall-to-wall journalists smelling blood—Bloomberg, WSJ, CNN, and even TMZ lurking in the back like the tabloid vultures they are.
I'm at the podium in a black suit that cost more than my entire Princeton wardrobe, custom-made in two days. Father’s beside me, his hand on my shoulder, while Caelen stands three steps back. Close enough to matter, far enough that this moment is mine.
I look at the cameras, at the reporters salivating for a story.
"My name is Olivia Welch." The first time saying it out loud feels like speaking a language I’ve forgotten.
"I was kidnapped twenty years ago at age four. Hidden under the false identity Maeve Winters." My voice stays steady. "This morning, DNA results confirmed I'm the daughter of Alexander Welch and the late Emily Welch."
Cameras explode. Lightning-fast flashes, reporters losing their collective shit. Someone's already shouting questions I can't even hear over the chaos.
"I'm also pleased to announce my engagement to Caelen Rhys, my father's most trusted advisor, who’ll soon become my second husband."
I lift my hand, letting the new diamond catch the light. The room explodes in camera flashes and shouting.
Questions fly—"When's the wedding?" "Does your husband know?"—as if Kael's opinion matters anymore.
I don't answer, just letting them look. The orphan nobody wanted is now the heiress everyone will remember.
The announcement's everywhere already—press releases, photos, full DNA report. By the time I step off this podium, Kael Dareth's world will be burning.
Three days ago I agreed to this insanity. Alexander moved like a man possessed, coordinating lawyers and PR teams. It was war planning in real time.
I watched from the sidelines feeling like I'd hijacked someone else's life. Marriage licenses with a stranger. Engagement shoots with a guy I'd known for seventy-two hours.
Press releases, legal documents, photographs staged to look candid. Everything was moving so fast I could barely process.
It didn't feel like my choice; it felt like drowning. Marriage as a weapon, love as strategy. I was doing exactly what the Dareths did to me, becoming the very thing I hated.
2am in the war room last night, staring at engagement photos the PR team staged. Me and Caelen looking like a power couple. His hand on my waist, both smiling like we chose this.
Like it's real.
It's not real. It's revenge in a tailored suit. But then I thought about Kael's face at that gala. Gia wearing his grandmother's ring—mine, supposed to be mine forever.
Two months sleeping alone in our bed. His family calling me barren while he stood there silent.
Fuck being sure. I want revenge.
This morning Caelen found me in the library. Still staring at those photos like they'd make sense eventually. "Having second thoughts?"
I almost laughed. "Try hundredth thoughts."
He leaned against the desk, the scar on his jaw catching the morning light. "For what it's worth," he said, his voice low, "I'd have married you even if this wasn't arranged."
I looked up, my breath catching. "That's a hell of a thing to say."
"Just facts." A small, genuine smile touched his lips. "You're stunning and terrifying. It's a great combo."
The delivery actually made me laugh. First real one in days. "That's your pitch?"
"Not pitching. Observing." He moved closer, hands in pockets, completely relaxed.
Like fake-marrying heiresses was normal Tuesday shit. "You're smart, sharp, survived things that'd break most people." Pause. "Also you look like you could commit murder and get away with it."
"Can't tell if that's a compliment."
"Definitely a compliment. I like dangerous women."
I studied him. The scar, dark eyes, absolute calm. This man agreed to marry a stranger to destroy my ex's family. Either insane or exactly the kind of honest I've been craving.
"Why are you really doing this?"
"Told you. Watched the Dareths destroy you for three months." Shrugged. "Made me want to burn their world."
"Plus," he added, his honesty almost brutal, "marrying the Welch heir positions me as Alexander's successor. Everyone wins."
"Except Kael," I said. His smile turned sharp. "Especially Kael." Sharp smile. "Remember—I'm here if you start overthinking. After all, I'm your second husband now."
This is happening. I'm announcing to the world I'm engaged to a three-day acquaintance, nuking my ex's life, claiming billions.
"Fuck it," I said. "Let's burn it down."
His laugh was a dark sound of approval. "Now you're talking."
Back at the podium, as the cameras flash, something inside me shifts. It’s not regret or doubt. It’s power.
Alexander squeezes my shoulder. Caelen's eyes find mine—steady, present, ready. I step back from the mic. Let them shout.
The exclusive interview I'm not giving can wait. Security escorts us out back. Car's running, Caelen holding the door.
Alexander's already on his phone—board members, investors, whoever needs to know the Welch heir just dropped a bomb.
"How do you feel?" Caelen asks once we're moving.
My phone is exploding. Seventeen missed calls. And one text message from a blocked number that's somehow still getting through. Kael.
Just watch headlines roll: "Alexander Welch's Lost Daughter Found—Engaged to Caelen Rhys." Photos of me looking powerful, untouchable, expensive.
Everything the Dareths tried to convince me I wasn't.
My thumb hovers over the notification, a cold sickness mixing with the triumph. I silence the phone and toss it in my bag.
"I feel dangerous," I say.
Caelen's smile is pure approval. "Good."
Alexander hangs up. "It's everywhere. Every outlet, every platform."
"Trending number one on Twitter." He looks at me. "Dareth Industries stock's already dropping."
"You just became the most talked-about woman in New York."
It's so strange and exciting at the same time. After being an orphan that no one wanted, now I'm the most talked-about woman in the city.
"And I'm not finished yet."