Chapter 8 A Public Love, A Private War

By the end of the week, Agnes Hart and James Reed were no longer a secret, no longer whispers in the hallway or shadows in the background of black-tie events. They were headlines. Features. Tabloid gold. The world had officially named them "The Billionaire and the Woman Who Tamed Him."

To some, it was romantic.

To others, a scandal waiting to explode.

Agnes didn't know which terrified her more.

Especially when the smiling articles were followed by a much colder ripple in the professional world-a subtle shift in tone from colleagues, a raised brow in meetings, an extra second of silence when she entered a room.

And then came the biggest test of all.

The Reed Innovations Annual Investors' Gala.

It was the company's most high-profile event-an evening where every CEO, venture capitalist, and shareholder came to sip overpriced champagne and judge every move of the man leading the empire.

And now, she would be on James's arm.

Not as an assistant.

Not as a background player.

As his partner.

And not everyone liked that.

Pre-Gala Tension

The afternoon before the gala, Agnes found herself pacing James's office, her black heels clicking sharply against the marble floors.

"They're going to eat me alive," she said.

James, calm as ever in his leather desk chair, gave her a small smile. "You've faced worse. You survived Matthew."

"This is different," she snapped. "This isn't emotional. This is political. These people don't care if we're in love. They care about power. Optics. Control."

He stood and crossed to her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "And you care too much about what they think."

She looked away.

"Agnes," he said, tipping her chin toward him. "I've sat in boardrooms where billionaires rip each other apart, and I've watched you stand toe-to-toe with people twice your age and five times your arrogance. You're not here because of me."

"I know," she whispered. "But sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, I'll always be seen as the girl who got the CEO."

James's eyes softened. "Then let them see. Let them watch you rise anyway."

She swallowed hard. "And what if I fall?"

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Then I'll catch you."

The Gala Begins

The ballroom at the Grand Astra Hotel glittered like something out of a fantasy.

Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead. Waiters moved through the crowd with silver trays. Media outlets buzzed in designated corners. Music played from a live orchestra tucked into one end of the hall.

When James and Agnes walked in together, silence swept the room for half a breath before the flashes began.

Cameras. Phones. Whispers.

James looked devastating in a black tux, but all eyes were on Agnes-draped in a sleek, floor-length crimson gown with a slit that said confident and eyes that said don't you dare underestimate me.

She walked with purpose, her hand on James's arm, spine straight despite the pressure pressing into her from every angle.

"Smile," James whispered at her side.

"I am smiling," she muttered.

"That's your murder smile."

He chuckled softly, but even his shoulders were a touch tenser than usual.

The Power Play

Within the first fifteen minutes, they were approached by Gerald Langston-the same board member who'd challenged their relationship weeks ago. He wore a sharkskin suit and a too-wide smile.

"James. Miss Hart. Lovely to see you both," he said, his eyes sharp.

Agnes returned the fake smile. "Mr. Langston."

"I must say, the two of you make quite the statement."

"Wasn't that the goal?" James replied coolly.

Gerald sipped his wine. "Tell me, Agnes. Are you enjoying your new position in Strategy? I imagine the learning curve must be... steep."

Agnes didn't blink. "It's challenging. But then again, so was managing James Reed's entire calendar for two years. I'd say I'm well-prepared."

A few people around them stifled laughs. Gerald's mouth twitched.

James added, "She's already proposed a new model for our expansion into the EU. If the projections are correct, she'll double our current forecast."

Gerald's smile thinned.

"Impressive," he said.

Agnes tilted her head. "You sound surprised."

Before he could reply, someone called James away for a brief investor meeting, leaving Agnes to stand alone... until Gerald spoke again, his tone colder now.

"Careful, Miss Hart. Power makes people jealous."

She met his gaze, unflinching. "Good. Let them envy me."

And she walked away.

Behind Closed Doors

After an hour of mingling, smiling, and fielding questions disguised as compliments, Agnes slipped away to the balcony.

She needed air. Space. A moment without judgment.

She leaned against the railing, eyes closed.

"You were brilliant tonight."

She turned to see Claire approaching with two glasses of wine.

Agnes took one gratefully. "It's exhausting pretending I don't want to slap half the room."

Claire grinned. "Then don't. Slap one. Make it count."

Agnes laughed despite herself.

Claire sobered. "You know they're watching you. But they're also watching James. If he falters... if you falter..."

Agnes nodded. "I know."

"And still-you're here."

Agnes looked back out at the skyline.

"I love him."

Claire smiled softly. "Then screw them. Be happy."

James's Confession

Later that night, as the gala wound down and the crowd began to thin, James and Agnes stood together near the grand staircase, watching the final guests filter out.

"You were perfect tonight," James said, his voice low.

"I was a politician," she corrected. "I didn't punch anyone. That's about all I can say."

James smirked, but his eyes grew serious.

"I have something to tell you," he said.

She turned fully toward him. "What?"

"I got a call this morning. From a firm in London. They want me to consult-temporarily-on a series of global tech mergers."

Agnes's breath caught. "For how long?"

"Two months. Maybe three."

She blinked. "When would you leave?"

"Next week."

Silence.

Pain twisted in her chest, unexpected and sharp.

"But I won't go," James added. "Not if you ask me to stay."

Agnes stared at him. "Why would I ask that?"

"Because we just got here, and I don't want to ruin it."

She shook her head. "James... you have to go."

"I don't want-"

"You have to," she repeated. "You built your name on strategy, innovation. If you don't go now, you'll regret it later. And I won't be the reason you look back and wonder."

His eyes searched hers. "I'd come back."

"I know."

"I'd call. Every day."

She smiled sadly. "Then go. And come back better."

He stepped closer, pressed his forehead to hers.

"I love you," he said.

She closed her eyes. "Then trust me enough to go."

The Flight Ahead

The next day, James booked the flight.

The world saw a CEO jetting off to consult.

But Agnes knew the truth.

He was leaving something behind-something real, something rare.

And she would be waiting.

Not as a woman in the background.

But as the one he would return to.

Because love, real love, wasn't always about staying.

Sometimes, it was about letting go... just long enough to prove it would last.