Chapter 37: Media Mayhem.
Jeremiah's Penthouse.
Tammy was sprawled on the bed, scrolling through her phone with one eye shut like she was trying to reduce the level of disgrace coming her way. But nothing could save her. The news had broken. The blogs had caught fire. And the headlines? Brutal.
"CEO Jeremiah Adebayo Expecting Baby—Wife Confirmed Pregnant With Triplets?!"
"Accidental Marriage No More: Pregnancy Seals the Deal."
"From Ordinary Girl to Billionaire's Baby Mama—Tammy Coker's Meteoric Rise."
And her personal favorite, from a gossip account that specialized in wickedness: "Is This Love or Calculated Trap? Inside Tammy's Bedroom Strategy."
"Bedroom strategy?!" Tammy yelled, tossing her phone on the bed like it had bitten her. "Do I look like a strategist to these people?"
Jeremy, buttoning his shirt by the window, glanced over with a faint smirk. "You mean you're not? Could've fooled me, Mrs. Adebayo."
"Don't start with me," she groaned, dragging the duvet over her face. "I swear, if one more person calls me a gold-digger, I'll—" She popped her head out and glared at him. "Actually, I'll sue them."
"On what grounds?" Jeremy raised a brow. "Defamation?"
"Yes! Emotional distress, mental disturbance, loss of dignity—everything."
Jeremy chuckled, and she hated that he looked annoyingly calm, like he was untouchable while her whole social circle was feasting on her humiliation.
Because oh, they were. Her old school WhatsApp group had been resurrected from the dead. Girls who hadn't spoken to her in years were suddenly typing paragraphs.
"Omooo Tammy, na triplets ooo. Congrats o. Some of us are still single sha."
"Shebi you said you didn't want a rich husband? See your life now."
"Is it true or clout? We need DNA receipts abeg."
Tammy almost threw her phone into the wardrobe.
And her old colleagues? The girls at the office group chat didn't hold back. They sent laughing emojis, tagged her in memes, and one even uploaded a TikTok reenacting "How Tammy Trapped a Billionaire in 3 Easy Steps." Tammy wanted the ground to swallow her whole.
Jeremy walked over, sat on the bed, and tugged the duvet down from her face. "Look at me."
She refused.
"Tammy." His tone dropped, low and firm. The kind that made her obey without thinking. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to his.
"Let them talk. They've always needed someone to drag. This time it's you. Next week, it'll be someone else. The only thing that matters is what we know."
His words were serious, steady. But Tammy still felt the lump in her throat. "You don't get it. They don't see you as the victim, Jeremy. They see me as—" She broke off, biting her lip hard. "Like I trapped you. Like I'm some shameless girl who—"
"You're my wife," he cut in, sharp. "That's the only title that matters. Do you understand me? Beside who's to say you don't have me trapped?" He smirked wiggling his eyebrows.
Her lips trembled and she burst out laughing. And then he added, softer, "And the mother of my children. Nobody slanders my family and walks away free."
Tammy blinked. "Wait… what are you planning?"
Jeremy gave her a faint smile that was too calm to be innocent. "A press conference."
She sat bolt upright. "Press conference?! Jeremy, you can't go and tell the world that I—"
"Too late," he said, already grabbing his phone. "Zion's arranging it. It's happening in two hours."
Tammy clutched her head like she was about to faint. "Two hours? No, no, no. You can't do this. You're going to put my face in front of every camera in Lagos!"
"Exactly," he said smoothly. "They want to talk about you? Then they'll hear the truth from me."
---
Two hours later, the hall was packed. Media houses, bloggers, reporters—all buzzing like bees. Jeremy stood at the podium in a navy-blue suit, calm as stone. Cameras flashed wildly.
Beside him, Tammy sat with her heart in her stomach, hands clenched together. She was sure she looked like a deer in headlights.
Jeremy cleared his throat, and instantly the hall fell silent. His voice was steady, commanding.
"Good afternoon. I won't waste your time. You've all read the blogs, seen the headlines, and laughed at the memes. But today, I want to set the record straight."
Tammy stared at him, wide-eyed. He was so… controlled. So powerful.
"Yes, my wife is pregnant," Jeremy continued. Gasps and whispers rippled through the room. Flashbulbs went crazy. "Yes, it's true. And no, it is not a scandal, nor is it a trap, nor is it some calculated move. It is our life. Our family. And I will protect them."
He paused, eyes scanning the crowd like a lion surveying prey.
"So to those who think it's entertainment: this is your last free laugh. Anyone who spreads lies about my wife again will be dealt with legally."
Tammy's jaw dropped.
"And one more thing." His voice softened, but it carried through the room. "I love my wife. And I am proud of her."
The hall erupted—questions, shouts, flashes, chaos. But Tammy was frozen in her seat, staring at him.
Did he just say that? Out loud? To the entire country? And more than that, did he mean it?
When they finally escaped the madness and got into the car, Tammy was still staring. Jeremy glanced at her, amused. "What?"
She blinked rapidly. "You said you… you said you love me."
Jeremy smirked. "Did I? Or was that just good PR?"
"Jeremy!" She smacked his arm.
He chuckled, starting the car. "Relax, Mrs. Adebayo. If it makes you feel better, let's just say I meant every word."
Her heart thudded. She turned to the window, cheeks hot. And for the first time since the news broke, Tammy almost forgot about the blogs.
Almost.
Because her phone buzzed again with a message from an unknown number:
"The truth always comes out. Enjoy your spotlight while it lasts."
Tammy's blood ran cold. She shakily dropped her phone on the chair. Jeremy was driving and staring out the window so he didn't notice.