The door shut quietly behind her.
Her father lay still, hooked to machines that beeped softly in steady rhythm. The only light came from a small lamp near his bed, casting a warm but tired glow. Diana sat beside him and gently reached for his hand.
"I'm back, Dad," she whispered. "I didn't stay long."
She rested her head against the bed rail, eyes closed for just a moment.
Bzzz.
Her phone vibrated.
She ignored it.
Then again.
Bzzz.
Bzzz.
BZZZ.
With a reluctant sigh, she took it out of her clutch.
23 missed calls.
14 new messages.
And 5 voicemails.
All from unknown numbers, private lines, or vaguely familiar names from the press.
Unknown Number:
"Diana Frost, please confirm your relationship with Adam Stone. Exclusive quote?"
Unknown Number:
"We're offering $50,000 for a sit-down."
Private Number:
"Are you and Adam engaged? Public wants to know."
She turned off the ringer.
Her thumb hovered over the "Delete All" button, but she let the phone drop to her lap instead.
Another message popped up.
Eva:
"Girl. Are you seriously with Adam Stone? CALL ME."
Lina:
"You didn't tell me a thing! How long has this been going on?"
Maya:
"Don't leave me on read. This better not be a PR stunt."
Diana locked the screen. Her silence wasn't an answer, but it was the only thing she had to offer right now.
She wasn't ready. Not to explain. Not to defend. Not even to share.
This arrangement—whatever it was between her and Adam—had just begun. And too many eyes were already on it.
She reached for a blanket and gently tucked it around her father's shoulders, brushing a hand through his thinning hair.
"You'd hate all this noise," she said softly. "You always told me… attention is a currency. Spend it wisely."
The hallway was quiet. She leaned back in the hospital chair and exhaled slowly, phone dark in her lap, while the city outside buzzed with headlines, speculation, and flashing lights she had no interest in answering.
...
The sun filtered through the window, catching the edge of her phone screen. The notifications hadn't stopped. Dozens more had appeared overnight—calls, emails, and even social media tags.
But Diana didn't check any of them.
She stood at the hospital sink, rinsing her face with cold water. Her reflection looked back at her—tired eyes, soft features, expression unreadable.
Still composed. Still in control.
She tied her hair back into a low bun, picked up a fresh blazer she had stored at the hospital for emergencies, and stepped out of the room.
There would be time to answer questions.
Just… not yet.
...
Next Day
The scent of antiseptic hung in the air, mixed with the quiet hum of machines. Diana sat near the window, outside his father's room, a book open in her lap but unread, her thoughts distant.
A soft knock.
She turned.
Adam stood in the doorway, dressed less formally this time—no suit jacket, just a black shirt, sleeves casually rolled up, a hint of weariness in his otherwise polished look.
"You came," she said softly, not quite surprised, but not fully expecting him either.
"You said I could," he replied, a faint smile playing at his lips. "Besides, I needed an excuse to escape another board meeting."
She allowed herself a smile too. "And I thought I was the one who needed saving."
Adam stepped inside, glancing toward the bed where her father still lay unconscious, then back at her.
"I brought you this," he said, holding up a takeaway coffee cup and a small paper bag. "Not sure if you've eaten."
"Probably not," she admitted, accepting the cup. "Thanks."
They sat down side by side. For a moment, the silence was gentle, almost companionable.
Then Diana spoke, voice low. "You know, I got around forty calls yesterday. All asking the same question."
Adam looked over. "If we're together."
She nodded. "Or why I was with you… whether I'm using you, or whether you're using me."
"I'm sorry," he said, and for once, it wasn't the casual sort of apology people offer out of habit. It sounded genuine—measured, regretful.
"I knew there would be noise," she murmured. "I just didn't expect it to be that loud… or that personal."
Adam leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "I've dealt with it before, but I should've better prepared you. It's different when you're standing beside me."
Diana gave him a sidelong glance. "Well… like it or not, we're in this together now."
His gaze met hers. "That's exactly why I came today. I wanted to talk about it—with you."
She tilted her head.
"I know we started this for… reasons," Adam continued carefully, "but if we're going to keep up appearances, we can't just improvise every moment. We need to know each other better. Actually talk."
"You mean treat it like a real relationship?" she said dryly.
He smiled faintly. "Maybe not all the way. But we owe each other honesty. Mutual respect. That's a good place to start."
Diana nodded slowly. "I can do that."
"And I'll be better about shielding you. You shouldn't have to deal with all the fallout alone."
"I didn't mind the fallout," she said. "I minded the part where people thought they had the right to judge something they didn't understand."
Adam didn't respond right away. But he nodded.
Another beat of quiet passed before Diana said, more softly, "And thank you—for coming. It meant something."
Just then, the door creaked open, and a nurse stepped inside. "Miss Frost?"
Diana turned sharply. "Yes?"
"Your father is awake."
Her breath caught. Adam stood up beside her as she set the coffee down, barely noticing it slosh. Her heart pounded as she crossed the room, her heels clicking quickly against the tile.
Inside, her father's eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly, taking in the soft light above him.
"Dad?" she said, stepping to his side.
He turned his head slightly. His voice was raspy, faint. "Diana…"
Tears stung at the corners of her eyes. She reached for his hand, and this time, it squeezed back—just a little, but enough.
Behind her, Adam quietly stepped back, giving her space. His expression shifted—still composed, but gentler now. As if witnessing something too human to disturb.
Diana leaned in close. "You're okay. I'm here."
Her father blinked again, recognition settling in his eyes.
Adam waited in silence, watching her shoulders relax for the first time since he met her. It was the first time she looked… not strong or composed—but simply human.
And in that moment, he knew this wasn't just business anymore.