My Husband Is An International Idol

Three days after the press conference, the internet was still talking about only one thing.

Chris St. Claire.

Liliana Sterling.

Every entertainment program replayed clips from the conference. News articles analyzed every glance they exchanged, every smile they shared, and every word they spoke. Fans created compilations of Chris quietly holding Liliana’s hand beneath the conference table, while others revisited old photographs and videos, convinced they had missed the signs of their close relationship all along.

The public’s opinion had changed almost overnight.

Instead of criticizing Liliana, countless people admired the sacrifices she had made. They praised her for quietly supporting Chris while he pursued his dream and applauded Chris for never forgetting the woman who had stood by him from the very beginning.

The positive response spread beyond social media.

Inside St. Claire Entertainment, the customer service department had become busier than ever.

The company telephones rang almost without stopping.

Receptionists hurried from one call to another, barely finding time to breathe.

At first, everyone assumed the calls were related to Carl De Vera.

Perhaps someone had spotted him.

Perhaps there was another witness.

Instead...

Every call came from the biggest luxury brands in the world.

"They’re calling again," one employee said in disbelief as another phone rang.

Another receptionist covered the receiver before whispering, "It’s another fashion house from Paris."

A marketing executive rushed into Robin’s office carrying a stack of messages.

"We’ve received partnership offers from Milan, New York, London, Seoul, and Tokyo."

Robin adjusted his glasses.

"All for Chris?"

The executive shook her head.

"For Chris... and Miss Sterling."

Robin blinked.

"Together?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

"They specifically requested them as a pair."

Within hours, proposals flooded the company.

Luxury jewelry.

Designer watches.

Perfume campaigns.

High-fashion magazines.

International clothing brands.

Even companies that had never worked with celebrities before wanted Chris and Liliana to become the faces of their products.

Sarah Clifford looked over the growing pile of contracts and smiled.

"The public doesn’t see them as two separate celebrities anymore."

"They’ve become a story."

Robin nodded thoughtfully.

"And stories sell."

While Victor Reyes worked alongside the National Bureau of Investigation, the Cybercrime Division, and private investigators to hunt for Carl De Vera, St. Claire Entertainment continued cooperating fully with authorities.

Every surveillance recording was reviewed.

Every digital trace was analyzed.

Every fake identity connected to Carl was investigated.

Yet...

It was as though he had vanished from the face of the earth.

Not a single credible lead had surfaced.

Meanwhile, another debate had begun dominating social media.

Millions replayed the press conference repeatedly.

One question appeared over and over again.

If Chris had feelings for Liliana...

Why didn’t either of them admit they were in love?

Comments poured in endlessly.

"They’re obviously in love."

"No, they’re just lifelong friends."

"Chris never actually said ’I love her.’"

"Neither did Liliana."

"Are they dating or not?"

"Why avoid the question?"

Entertainment programs devoted entire segments to the mystery.

Relationship experts offered opinions.

Fans debated late into the night.

Ironically...

The question everyone wanted answered had never been asked during the press conference.

That evening, Emily quietly knocked on Liliana’s bedroom door.

"Come in."

Emily stepped inside before closing the door behind her.

Liliana was sitting by the window, a cup of warm tea resting in her hands as she stared absentmindedly at the garden outside.

Emily walked over and sat beside her.

"You’ve been avoiding this conversation."

Liliana smiled faintly.

"I know."

Emily sighed.

"Lily..." She paused. "Why didn’t you tell everyone?"

Liliana lowered her eyes.

Emily continued gently.

"That press conference was the perfect opportunity. The public already accepted both of you. They admired your sacrifices. They would’ve accepted your marriage too."

Liliana remained silent.

Emily’s voice softened.

"I’m worried. If the truth comes out later, the backlash might not be this kind. Especially to you.’

Liliana looked down at the wedding ring hidden beneath the sleeve of her cardigan.

"I know."

Emily reached for her hand.

"So why?"

Liliana smiled sadly.

"I wasn’t ready."

She looked toward the window.

"For five years, this marriage has been ours. The moment the world knows, everything changes."

Emily understood.

But there was something she needed to ask.

"Lily..."

She hesitated.

"Do you love Chris?"

Liliana froze. A blush slowly spread across her cheeks.

After several long seconds, she quietly nodded.

"Yes."

Emily smiled knowingly.

"I thought so."

Liliana laughed bitterly.

"It doesn’t matter."

Emily frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Liliana looked toward the night sky.

"I’ll never tell him."

Emily stared at her.

"Why?"

"Because..." Liliana smiled helplessly. "What Chris said during the press conference..." Paused. "He was acting."

Emily blinked.

"He wasn’t—"

Liliana continued before Emily could interrupt.

"He wanted to protect me. He wanted the public to stop attacking me. So he said all those wonderful things."

She laughed softly.

"I know Chris. He sees me as family and as his closest friend. Maybe, even as a sister."

Emily’s jaw nearly dropped.

For several seconds...

She simply stared at Liliana.

Then she buried her face in her hands.

"Lily, you’re unbelievably dense."

Liliana blinked.

"Huh?"

Emily looked at her in complete disbelief.

"He practically confessed to the entire country!"

Liliana shook her head.

"No."

"He said he admired me."

Emily groaned dramatically.

"I can’t believe this. You’re hopeless."

Elsewhere in St. Claire Mansion...

Leo found Chris standing alone on the balcony overlooking the city. The cool evening breeze rustled through his blond hair.

Leo leaned casually against the railing.

"The internet is going crazy."

Chris chuckled.

"When isn’t it?"

Leo smiled before becoming serious.

"They’re saying one thing."

Chris looked at him.

"You never actually said you love her."

Chris became quiet.

After a moment, he smiled faintly.

"Do I really have to?"

Leo raised an eyebrow.

Chris looked toward the stars.

"I told the whole world she’s important to me. I told them my feelings started, years ago. And that she’s the person I’ve never forgotten."

He smiled to himself.

"Isn’t that the same thing?"

Leo crossed his arms.

"Not to women."

Chris frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Leo laughed.

"You’d be surprised."

He turned toward Chris.

"You should tell her."

Chris lowered his gaze.

"I can’t."

Leo’s smile disappeared.

"Why not?"

Chris rested both hands on the balcony railing.

"Lily has sacrificed enough because of me."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

"She gave up her dream. She endured years of criticism. She protected my career."

He shook his head.

"I’ve always believed she did all that because my family took care of her after her parents died. She feels indebted to us."

Leo listened quietly.

"If I tell her I love her..." Chris smiled bitterly. "What if she feels obligated to answer the same way? What if I destroy the friendship we’ve spent five years building? And now that she’s starting to get noticed by everyone, I don’t want to ruin it."

Leo stared at his friend before sighing.

"So..."

"You think she doesn’t love you."

Chris nodded.

"And she probably thinks I don’t love her."

Leo rubbed his forehead.

"I’ve never met two people who are this hopeless."

Neither of them realized that, beneath the same roof, the woman Chris loved was having the exact same conversation with Emily.

Both believed they were protecting the other.

Both believed their love was better left unspoken.

And because of that...

Two hearts that already belonged to each other remained separated by nothing more than a misunderstanding.

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