Lily didn't realize how exposed she felt until someone called her Mrs. Blackwood without curiosity in their voice.
It happened midway through her second week at the foundation.
"Mrs. Blackwood, the supplier confirmed the delivery window."
She looked up from her laptop. "It's Lily. Please."
The coordinator blinked, then nodded. "Right. Lily."
The correction felt small—but it mattered.
She was learning quickly. Not just the work, but the rhythm. The unglamorous details no one photographed. The patience required to deal with limited funding and endless expectations.
For the first time since the wedding, she felt useful.
That feeling shattered at lunch.
She was eating alone in the break area when her phone buzzed. One notification. Then another. Then five more.
She ignored them.
Then her name appeared on the office television.
Lily froze.
BLACKWOOD WIFE OVERSTEPS—INSIDE SOURCES QUESTION HER ROLE AT FOUNDATION
Her stomach dropped.
She stood slowly and turned up the volume.
A commentator spoke with polished concern. "Sources suggest Lily Blackwood has been inserting herself into foundation operations without proper experience. Some question whether her position is symbolic—or strategic."
Her hands trembled.
Symbolic. Strategic.
The screen cut to a blurred photo of her entering the foundation building.
She turned the TV off.
The room felt suddenly too bright. Too open.
She locked herself in the restroom and stared at her reflection.
I knew this would happen, she thought. I chose this.
Her phone buzzed again.
Adrian.
She didn't answer.
Adrian found out five minutes later.
His assistant didn't soften the blow. "It's gaining traction. Eleanor already called."
Adrian stood from his desk. "Contain it."
"We can," the assistant said. "But Lily would need to step back publicly."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "No."
"That's the cleanest option."
"I said no."
The assistant hesitated. "Then this becomes personal."
Adrian's voice was cold. "It already is."
Lily didn't go home immediately.
She walked. No destination. Just movement.
She needed to feel like she still owned her feet.
Her phone rang again.
She stopped this time.
"Yes."
"Where are you?" Adrian asked.
"Out."
"Send me your location."
"No."
Silence crackled on the line.
"Lily," Adrian said carefully, "this isn't about control."
"It never is," she replied. "Until it is."
"You're exposed."
"I know."
"Then let me handle it."
"That's exactly what I don't want," she said. "You stepping in every time makes this worse."
"It keeps you safe."
"At the cost of me standing on my own," she shot back.
He exhaled slowly. "Come home."
"I will," she said. "Later."
She hung up before he could respond.
When Lily returned that evening, the mansion felt tense.
Adrian was waiting in the living room, jacket off, sleeves rolled up. He looked like a man holding himself back.
"They're questioning your competence," he said the moment she entered.
"I saw."
"They're framing you as a liability."
"I expected that."
He frowned. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I needed to see if I could handle it first."
"And can you?" he asked.
She met his gaze. "Yes."
He laughed once, sharp and humorless. "You're fighting people who don't play fair."
"So do you," Lily replied. "Every day."
"That's different."
"No," she said. "It's just unfamiliar."
Adrian ran a hand through his hair. "I can end this tonight."
"I know," Lily said. "And that scares me."
He stilled.
"You don't trust me," he said.
"I trust you too much," she replied. "That's the problem."
Silence fell between them.
"If you intervene," Lily continued, "you confirm everything they're saying. That I'm only here because of you."
"And if I don't?" Adrian asked.
"Then I take the hit," she said. "And prove I belong."
His eyes searched her face. "You could get hurt."
"I already am."
The honesty in her voice landed harder than anger.
Adrian looked away.
Finally, he said, "I won't touch the media."
Relief loosened her chest. "Thank you."
"But," he added, turning back to her, "I will protect you privately."
She nodded. "That's fair."
The next day was worse.
Emails doubled. Meetings became colder. Questions sharper.
Lily answered them all.
She didn't defend her marriage.
She defended her work.
By evening, she was exhausted in a way sleep couldn't fix.
When she came home, Adrian was on the balcony.
"They're backing off," he said quietly.
She joined him. "Already?"
"Not because of me," he added. "Your reports were solid."
Her shoulders sagged. "Good."
He studied her. "You didn't break."
"I almost did," she admitted.
He stepped closer. Not touching. Just close enough to feel real.
"I don't like watching you suffer," Adrian said.
"I don't like being sheltered," Lily replied.
A pause.
"You make this difficult," he said.
She smiled faintly. "You married difficult."
His gaze lingered on her face longer than usual.
"This world will keep testing you," he said.
"I know."
"And me," he added.
She looked at him. "Good."
The word surprised them both.
Because somewhere between control and resistance, something else was growing.
Something neither of them could shield—or stop.