Chapter 7 The Past Never Sleeps

Rain pattered softly against the glass windows of the penthouse as Leah stood in the kitchen, waiting for her tea to steep. The silence around her was comfortable, but underneath her calm surface, her thoughts churned.

The headlines hadn't died down. Xavier's bold press conference had silenced some of the worst speculation, but public attention remained relentless. Each day brought new photos, new whispers, and now... the shadow of Celeste.

She hadn't spoken to Xavier about it further. She didn't want to sound insecure. But inside, she couldn't stop the quiet storm of doubt.

Celeste.

The woman he once loved enough to propose to.

The woman who had clearly decided to strike back.

And worst of all, Leah hadn't missed the way Xavier's voice had gone quiet when he spoke her name. Controlled. But not emotionless.

What if she still had a hold on him?

"Hey." Xavier's voice pulled her from her thoughts. He walked in shirtless, towel draped around his neck, fresh from a morning run.

She tried to smile. "Morning."

"You okay?"

She nodded, stirring her tea. "Just thinking."

He stepped closer and gently tipped her chin up so she had to look at him. "About?"

She hesitated, then asked, "Did you love her?"

Xavier froze.

Leah wished she could take it back, but she didn't.

"I need to know," she whispered. "You said you never fought for her the way you fight for me. But that means you did care once."

He let go of her chin and stepped back, rubbing the towel over his face before tossing it onto a nearby chair.

"I was engaged to her because it made sense," he said finally. "Our families liked the idea. Investors liked the idea. It was... efficient."

"That's not love," she said quietly.

"No," he agreed. "It wasn't."

Leah turned to face him fully. "But did you feel something? Anything real?"

He looked at her then, dark eyes intense.

"I thought I did," he admitted. "Until I met you."

A breath caught in her throat.

"I didn't understand what real connection felt like until I saw you sleeping on that couch, arms crossed, glaring at me like I was the villain in your life."

She flushed. "You kind of were."

He chuckled, low and warm. "Maybe. But you didn't let me stay that way."

He moved closer again, hands finding her waist.

"Celeste was part of my past. A strategic mistake. But you you're everything my future holds."

Leah leaned into his touch, her head resting against his chest.

"I'm scared," she whispered. "She's not going to stop."

"I know," he said. "And that's why I'm going to end this. Permanently."

Later That Day Xavier's Office

Xavier stared at the file Jonas had placed in front of him.

"Are we sure about this?" he asked, flipping through the surveillance shots.

"She met with a known tabloid fixer two nights before the leak. This wasn't an accident."

Xavier's expression darkened.

"Leak her NDA violation to her employer," he said coolly. "Let them handle her. And if they don't, we will."

"Understood."

"Also..." Xavier paused. "I want a full security detail on Leah. Discreet, but effective. I don't want her walking out that door without someone watching her six."

Jonas nodded. "Done."

"And Jonas?"

"Sir?"

"Dig deeper. I want to know who else she's talking to. Who's helping her."

"Yes, Mr. Black."

As Jonas left, Xavier leaned back in his chair, jaw clenched.

He had fought for companies, contracts, billion-dollar deals.

Now, he was fighting for something far more dangerous: a woman who had carved her way into his heart and a child he hadn't known he could ever want.

And he was prepared to burn down anyone who tried to rip them away.

That Night Blackwood Penthouse

Leah lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep.

Her thoughts kept spiraling memories of her broken family, the pressure of the media, the weight of being his wife. Was she strong enough for this world?

She turned, found Xavier watching her silently from his side of the bed.

"You're not sleeping either," she whispered.

He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You've been quiet all day."

"I'm overwhelmed," she admitted. "Everything feels... too big."

He shifted closer, pulling her gently into his arms.

"Then let's make it small again," he murmured. "Just us. Just this room. Just this moment."

She closed her eyes against his chest. His heartbeat was steady. Soothing.

"I don't know how to be a CEO's wife," she confessed.

"You don't have to be a CEO's wife," he said. "Just be mine."

She laughed softly. "That sounds easier than it is."

"Maybe. But I'll never ask you to change. Not for the media. Not for the world. Just be Leah."

"And if Leah wants to hide under the covers for the next nine months?"

"I'll hide with you."

She smiled into his chest.

And for the first time in days, sleep found her easily.

The next morning arrived with a fresh storm this one not of wind or rain, but headlines.

Leah sat frozen at the breakfast table, her phone in hand, the screen glowing with the headline that stole her breath.

"Xavier Black's Pregnant Wife A Gold Digger with a Secret Past?"

Below the headline was a photo of her not the polished, composed Leah from the press conference, but a shot from over a year ago. She was outside a women's shelter, hair in a messy bun, hugging a young girl with a tear-streaked face.

The caption read:

"Leah Wren mysterious past, questionable associations. Is she the future First Lady of Blackwood Industries or a scandal waiting to erupt?"

Leah dropped the phone, her hands trembling. Her throat felt tight.

She hadn't told Xavier everything about her past. Not about the shelter. Not about her ex. Not about the girl in that photo her younger sister.

He knew about her estranged family, sure. But not the details. Not the nights she spent hiding from creditors, or working two jobs, or scrubbing floors to keep her sister off the streets.

And now, her truth was someone else's ammunition.

"Leah."

She looked up. Xavier stood at the kitchen doorway, dressed in his crisp suit, phone in hand, his expression unreadable.

"You saw it," she whispered.

"I did."

She braced herself for anger. Judgment. Disappointment.

But instead, he stepped forward and knelt beside her chair.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked gently.

Tears stung her eyes. "Because it's ugly. Because it's not the version of me the world wants you to be with. Because... I didn't want you to see me the way they do."

He reached for her hands.

"Leah," he said, his voice low, "the version I fell in love with isn't some polished heiress or socialite. It's the woman who fights for people she loves. Who's been through hell and still gets up every morning. That photo?" He nodded at the phone. "That's not shameful. That's strength."

She blinked rapidly, overwhelmed.

"I should've told you," she whispered.

"Then tell me now."

So she did.

She told him everything about her mother abandoning them, about the years of silence from her father, about her sister's overdose scare, about the work she did at the shelter.

By the time she was done, Xavier was silent.

But not cold.

Not distant.

Just furious.

At the people who had dug into her pain. At the media. At Celeste.

He stood. "This ends now."

Two Hours Later Celeste's Office

Celeste was sipping her espresso when her phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number:

"Turn on Channel 4."

She did.

What she saw made her blood boil.

There, live on television, was Leah her Leah, the "nobody" walking into a community center surrounded by reporters.

And beside her?

Xavier.

In a simple black coat and no tie, his expression calm but resolute.

Reporters shouted questions. Leah paused, looking directly into the camera.

"I'm not ashamed of where I come from," she said, her voice strong. "And I'm not afraid of anyone who tries to weaponize my past."

Xavier stepped in beside her. "I stand by every word she says. And anyone who continues to harass my wife will answer to me."

Celeste threw her espresso across the room.

Later That Day Community Center

The moment they stepped inside, Leah exhaled. She hadn't been here in almost a year.

"Are you sure this is smart?" she asked Xavier as he scanned the small crowd.

"No," he replied honestly. "But it's right."

A young girl ran up to Leah barely ten years old, big brown eyes wide.

"Miss Leah! You're back!"

Leah dropped to her knees, hugging her. "Hey, sweetheart."

The girl's mother approached shyly, recognition flickering in her eyes. "We saw the news. I told her you were a hero."

Leah flushed. "I'm not a hero."

Xavier's voice cut in, steady. "You are."

Leah turned to him, startled.

But there was no mockery in his tone. Only conviction.

Back at the Penthouse That Evening

Leah curled up beside Xavier on the couch, exhausted but somehow at peace.

"You really meant it?" she asked.

"What?"

"That I'm a hero."

He looked at her, brushing a thumb over her cheek.

"Yes."

She smiled, then whispered, "Even though I'm an emotional, hormonal mess who just told the world all our secrets?"

He leaned in, lips brushing hers. "Especially because of that."

She melted into his kiss, her fingers tangling in his shirt.

Their world was still a storm but inside this moment, they had carved out calm.

And for the first time since the whirlwind began, Leah truly believed...

She could survive this.

Because he wasn't just standing beside her.

He was holding her up.