Chapter 16: Public Attention's Stress

I never thought I would be in the spotlight myself. In this setting, privacy became a luxury, and I no longer possessed it, despite my constant preference for the silence, distant from the limelight. The reporters were persistent, their cameras snapping as they pressed me with inquiries I wasn't prepared to answer.

It began rather casually. A headline here, a picture there. They had first only been interested in my abrupt arrival at Williams' side and had questioned the terms of our "contract" marriage. But the rumours became stronger as the days passed. The journalists sucked up every tidbit of rumours they could find.

That morning, as I sat at the library trying to piece together the missing pieces of my life, I heard my phone ring. I knew the area code—it was the press office—but the number was unknown. I sighed and swiped the screen to respond.

"Freda, we have a small issue," the voice was saying.

"What issue?" Trying to speak in a neutral tone, I asked.

The voice went on, "A tabloid just published a story about you and Williams," with a hint of urgency in the voice. "They’re questioning the legitimacy of your marriage, hinting at a possible affair between you and someone else."

A chilly feeling crept across my chest. "Who is the source?" Even though I already had a bad feeling that I knew the answer, I demanded.

The voice faltered."While there’s no official confirmation, we think it originates from a member of the Harrington family."

I set the phone aside and felt nauseous. A well-known pain settled in the pit of my stomach, and my heart was pounding in my chest. Someone like Sophia or Marcel, the two individuals who had vowed to discredit me as soon as I entered their society.

A knock on the door broke the startled silence in which I sat, staring at the phone.

I called, frantically attempting to hide my anguish. "Come in," I said.

Williams entered the room, his posture straight, his face a mask of professional detachment. He could sense the tension in the air the moment he stepped inside.

His voice was hardly audible above a whisper when he said, "What happened?"

The door swung open once more before I could reply. The faces of Sophia and Marcel were unreadable as they entered the room, but I could see a hint of delight in Marcel's eyes.

"Freda," Sophia said to me, her voice as honey-sweet but with a hint of evil. "I believe you saw the latest headlines."

I tightened my jaw, trying to keep my composure. "I did, indeed. Additionally, I want to know why you're letting this occur."

A cunning smile curved Marcel's lips. "You give us too much credit, Freda. At least not directly, we are not responsible for this. However, your marriage isn't exactly the epitome of love, is it? Let's face it.”

I glanced at Williams, who kept his composure despite having a clinched jaw. I could tell this issue was more intricate than I could have ever imagined without him saying a word.

Sophia took a step forward and narrowed her eyes while speaking. "Freda, the public like a good scandal. And you're at the centre of one right now. A young lady with a dubious marriage to our heir, thrown into the Harrington family's world. What were the press's options?”

I felt a strange feeling of betrayal as I turned to face Williams. "Is this really the life you want me to lead?" My voice was hardly more than a whisper when I asked.

The smallest glimmer of doubt passed across his face as he glanced at me, then he steeled himself again. "You knew what you were getting into," he said, his tone icy yet tinged with an inexplicable edge. "Freda, this is not a fairy tale. There are sacrifices associated with the Harrington name.”

I nodded, battling the wave of annoyance that was about to explode. "So, is this what it is?” "A game?"

"It’s not a game," Williams stated abruptly in a strong tone. "It’s survival."

Marcel interrupted me with a scathing laugh before I could reply. "And let's face it, Freda—you haven't even begun to understand what it takes to live in this world. Do you believe that Williams' protection will keep you safe? You're not correct.”

Williams yelled, "Enough," in a firm yet hushed voice. "We’re done here."

As Marcel and Sophia exchanged knowing looks and turned to leave, the tension in the room was evident. But Marcel stopped as they got to the door.

"Just remember, Freda," he replied in a venomous voice. "Until they achieve their goals, the press won't stop. Nor will we.”

The door slammed behind them, leaving me and Williams alone, and I remained there, paralysed. I couldn't tell which hurt more, Marcel's words or the unexpected weight of reality bearing down on me.

"Do you think they’re right?" My voice broke as I asked. "Is this really just about survival?"

Williams took a while to respond. Rather, he approached the window and gazed out at the expansive acreage below. I waited for a response while I watched him, my heart racing.

His eyes were stern yet tinged with sadness when he finally turned to face me. "This world doesn't give a damn about intentions or feelings, Freda. It is only concerned about image and power. And we have to act the part right now."

A rush of uneasiness swept over me. "So what do we do now?"

Williams made no hesitation. "We fight back."

Meetings, press conferences, and well-crafted statements filled the following few days. The media was watching me closely, twisting, and evaluating what I said. They portrayed me as an innocent young lady who had entered a marriage she didn't comprehend. They conjectured about my background, relationships, and intentions.

But I didn't realise how serious the matter was until a reporter questioned me directly about my friendship with Williams.

Holding the microphone towards me, the reporter questioned sharply, "Is your marriage to Williams purely business, or is there a deeper connection?"

There was silence in the room. Williams was standing beside me, his mouth tight, when I looked at him. Now, everyone was watching me. I had the opportunity to speak and steer the conversation, but the words caught in my throat at that very moment. I didn't know how to respond.

The room appeared to suddenly enclose me. I used to take the spotlight for granted, but suddenly it felt oppressive. The pressure to keep up a front was too much, and the stakes were bigger than I ever thought they would be.

A voice from the back of the room interrupted me before I could collect my thoughts.

"I think the lady has said enough."

When I turned abruptly to see who had said it, I saw a familiar, threatening face.

Marcel.