The next morning, Eurydice woke up to chaos.
Her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing with notifications, and when she checked—
“Oh, come on.”
Headlines were everywhere.
●     "Vincent Montague’s Curious Interest in His Cousin’s Fiancée—Is There More to the Story?"
●     "Love Triangle? Speculation Grows Over Eurydice Santiago’s Allegiances in the Montague Family!"
●     "Conrad Montague Silent on Fiancée’s Growing Bond with Vincent—Trouble in Paradise?"
Eurydice groaned loudly, throwing herself back onto the bed.
She was about to text Amelia to scream about it, but before she could—
A knock sounded at the door.
“Eurydice.”
She sighed dramatically. “If this is about the headlines, I already know, and I would like to file a complaint against rich people problems.”
Conrad opened the door anyway, dressed in his usual crisp suit, looking unbothered but dangerous—which meant he was definitely annoyed.
“We’re going out.”
Eurydice blinked.
“Out? Like... in public?”
Conrad crossed his arms. “Yes.”
Eurydice narrowed her eyes. “Ohhh, I see. You’re panicking.”
Conrad gave her a flat look. “I do not panic.”
Eurydice grinned. “You so do. This is panic behavior, Montague.”
Conrad sighed. “This is strategy.”
Eurydice tilted her head. “Lemme guess. We need to ‘prove’ our relationship is stronger than the Vincent rumors?”
Conrad didn’t deny it.
Eurydice grinned wider.
“Ohohoho,” she mused, stretching her arms. “So what’s the plan? A grand, dramatic display of affection? A romantic getaway? Or—”
Conrad cut her off. “We’re going on a date.”
Eurydice froze mid-sentence.
Then—
“...You do realize that requires you to pretend to enjoy my company, right?”
Conrad exhaled slowly, as if regretting every choice that led him to this moment. “Unfortunately.”
Eurydice burst into laughter. “Oh, this is gonna be great.”
 
Two hours later, they were at one of the city’s most exclusive cafés, sitting by the window where any and all paparazzi could get a good shot of them.
Conrad, of course, was completely composed, sipping his black coffee like he was conducting a business deal instead of pretending to be madly in love.
Eurydice, on the other hand?
She was thriving in the chaos.
“So,” she said, loud enough for the nearby reporters to hear, “tell me, darling, what do you love most about our relationship?”
Conrad barely blinked.
Then, smoothly, he set down his coffee, met her gaze, and said—
“The silence.”
Eurydice gasped.
“Wow. Romantic. I almost swooned.”
Conrad tilted his head slightly, smirking just a little. “Would you prefer I lie?”
Eurydice grinned. “Yes, actually. I expect an entire monologue about how I’m the light of your life and the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
Conrad exhaled through his nose. “That would be too unbelievable.”
Eurydice mock-gasped again. “Rude.”
Their food arrived, and Conrad—ever the businessman—began cutting into his meal with precise, practiced movements.
Eurydice, meanwhile, casually stirred sugar into his coffee.
Conrad paused, eyeing her.
“What are you doing?”
Eurydice smiled sweetly. “Making you sweeter.”
Conrad looked at the coffee like it was a personal attack.
“You put four packets of sugar in this.”
Eurydice beamed. “I know.”
Conrad stared at her. Then the coffee. Then her again.
Then—
Very slowly—
He picked up the cup and took a sip.
Eurydice watched intently. “Well?”
Conrad’s expression remained blank as he set the cup down.
“I’m reconsidering this engagement.”
Eurydice laughed loudly, drawing the attention of people around them—exactly as planned.
“Oh, please,” she teased. “You love it here.”
Conrad sighed, shaking his head—but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.
 
By the time they left the café, the damage was already done.
Social media was on fire with photos of them:
●     "Conrad Montague and Eurydice Santiago: A Love Story for the Ages?"
●     "Forget Vincent—Conrad and Eurydice are #CoupleGoals!"
●     "Did You See That Look Conrad Gave Her? THAT IS NOT FAKE."
Eurydice cackled as she scrolled through the comments on her phone.
“Oh my God, Montague,” she said, holding back laughter. “People are convinced you’re madly in love with me.”
Conrad, who was driving, did not look amused.
“Wonderful.”
Eurydice grinned. “Ooooh, wait, here’s a good one: ‘If this isn’t real, then someone give that man an Oscar because the way he looks at her?! I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE.’”
Conrad exhaled sharply, gripping the wheel a little tighter. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Obviously.” Eurydice leaned back, scrolling through more. “Wow. I think they love us. Or at least, they love you tolerating me.”
Conrad glanced at her briefly, eyes flickering with something unreadable.
“You should stop reading that.”
Eurydice smirked. “Why? Are you scared you might accidentally fall in love with me?”
Conrad didn’t even blink. “No. I’m scared you might start believing your own nonsense.”
Eurydice gasped dramatically. “How dare you?”
He ignored her.
But she swore—just for a second—she saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
 
By the time they got home, Conrad had retreated to his office, already making calls to handle media damage control.
Eurydice, meanwhile, flopped onto the couch, satisfied with how the day turned out.
Well. Mostly.
There was one thing still bothering her.
And it had nothing to do with the media.
It was Vincent.
His words from the lunch kept playing in her mind.
"I like to keep an eye on family matters."
"You might want to be extra careful."
Eurydice wasn’t stupid.
Vincent wasn’t just curious—he was plotting something.
And Conrad knew it, too.
So, naturally—
She had to poke the beast.
 
Eurydice made her way to Conrad’s office, leaning casually against the doorway.
“You’re brooding.”
Conrad, who was in the middle of reviewing something on his laptop, didn’t even look up.
“I’m working.”
Eurydice smirked. “Same thing.”
Silence.
Then—
She took a few steps inside, crossing her arms.
“Alright, Montague, let’s just say hypothetically that I’m not completely oblivious—”
“You’re not?” Conrad cut in dryly, still not looking up.
Eurydice ignored that. “—and let’s also say that I definitely noticed the weird tension between you and Vincent today.”
Conrad finally looked up, expression unreadable.
“Your point?”
Eurydice shrugged. “My point is… how worried should I be?”
Conrad’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Worried?”
“I mean, come on,” she said, plopping into the chair across from him. “Vincent obviously has some agenda, and whatever it is, you seem pretty convinced that it’s bad news.”
Conrad was silent for a long moment.
Then, finally, he leaned back in his chair, fingers interlaced.
“Vincent likes power,” he said simply. “He’ll take it however he can get it.”
Eurydice frowned. “And right now, that means…?”
Conrad exhaled slowly. “Making me look weak.”
Eurydice blinked.
Then she snorted.
“Oh, please. If you’re weak, then I’m a saint.”
Conrad’s lips twitched slightly, but he didn’t smile.
“It’s more complicated than that,” he said. “Perception is everything in our family. If Vincent can turn public opinion against me, if he can make the board doubt my ability to lead—”
“—then he can take it,” Eurydice finished.
Conrad nodded once.
Eurydice sighed, leaning back. “Wow. Rich people problems sound exhausting.”
“They are.”
Eurydice studied him for a moment, then smirked.
“Well, lucky for you, I thrive in chaos.”
Conrad gave her a blank stare. “That’s not comforting.”
Eurydice grinned. “It should be.”
Because if Vincent wanted a game, he was about to get one.
And Eurydice Santiago?
She didn’t play fair.