They were everywhere.

Hashtags trended within an hour:

#ReianWifeReveal

#ONIXCoupleShoot

#WhoIsShe

#ThatLookInHisEyes

The image that sparked the chaos?

Soraya smiling with that calm, elusive grace—and Reian, caught staring at her like the world had paused.

Comments poured in faster than the manager could keep up:

> “She looks like an heiress from a noir film.”

“Is she actually his wife or a magazine model they planted??”

“Reian’s GAZE. Tell me that’s not real. Tell me.”

“Whoever she is… she’s art.”

---

At the villa, breakfast was unusually quiet.

Phones buzzed nonstop. The other wives scrolled silently, expressions shifting between disbelief, envy, and forced neutrality.

“I didn’t think this would turn into a fan war,” one murmured.

Another jabbed her spoon into yogurt. “She didn’t even pose cute. She just stood there and—bam.”

“Is that elegance or coldness?” Elia asked, trying for nonchalance.

Sera muttered, “It’s curated. She probably practiced for hours.”

At the head of the table, Soraya took a sip of tea, entirely unaffected.

At the far end of the table, Jayce tapped through the photos again, eyes wide.

“Did anyone else notice Reian’s face? Man was gone. Like dreamy-eyed, book-boyfriend gone.”

Kairo leaned over to see. “She really played the part. That’s not your average smile. That’s the ‘I’ll leave you at the altar and you’ll still thank me’ smile.”

Zion raised a brow. “She’s got presence. You don’t even need her to speak.”

Raze tapped his phone. “Public’s going wild. The likes on this post? Insane.”

---

Meanwhile, Vireon Entertainment’s office phones wouldn’t stop ringing.

The manager, bleary-eyed and half-caffeinated, switched between lines.

“Three endorsement requests just came in,” he muttered, pacing the hallway. “Yes, both of them. No, she’s not signed under us. No, we didn’t know she looked like that. Yes, we’ll follow up—”

He hung up and groaned. “I need to meet this woman. Face to face. Before this turns into a brand war.”

---

Upstairs, Reian stood at their shared bedroom window, watching the garden where the shoot had taken place. He hadn’t touched his phone since waking up. He didn’t need to. The buzz had found him anyway.

Soraya stepped out of the bathroom, towel in hand, hair damp and curling at the ends. She noticed his silence.

“You didn’t like the pictures?”

He turned. “I liked them.”

Her brow lifted, as if expecting more.

“They came out... authentic,” he added.

She smirked faintly. “Even the one where you forgot to look at the camera?”

Reian rubbed the back of his neck. “Caught me.”

“You were staring.”

“I was,” he admitted.

There was no tension in the room. Just a shift. A recognition.

---

A soft ping drew Soraya’s attention to her phone. A message from an unfamiliar admin contact popped up:

> Vireon Entertainment:

Due to high interest after your couple shoot, several luxury brands and press outlets have requested to work with you. Please confirm if you'd like inquiries forwarded via your husband’s management team or handled independently.

She stared at it, then looked up.

“I think your manager’s going to have a heart attack.”

Reian chuckled. “Good. He deserves it.”

She crossed the room and handed him his spare black card. “In case you want me to start handling my own offers.”

He looked down at the card. Then up at her. “You’re not what I expected.”

“You neither.”