Chapter 7 - SHE TOOK THE MICROPHONE BACK
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The reporters went silent.
Emily had not expected that.
She had expected shouting.
Questions.
Chaos.
Instead thirty journalists seemed to forget how to speak.
Then everything exploded at once.
“He gave you an exit?”
“Are you leaving?”
“Was the contract coercive?”
“Did your father negotiate your marriage?”
Emily held up her hand.
“I’ll answer one at a time.”
Behind her, Liam remained still.
A reporter from Raleigh Business Journal stepped forward.
“Mrs. Whitmore, why did you agree to marry him?”
Emily had rehearsed no answer.
So she told the truth.
“My family’s company was in trouble. Hundreds of jobs were at risk. Liam proposed an arrangement that protected the company and also benefited his business interests.”
“Marriage?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love him?”
Emily felt Liam’s presence behind her.
She could have lied.
A romantic answer would have helped the headlines.
She refused.
“I’ve been married four days.”
A few reporters laughed.
Emily continued.
“I’m still learning how he takes his coffee.”
“Black,” someone muttered.
Liam’s voice came from behind her.
“Usually.”
More laughter.
The atmosphere shifted.
Emily looked back at him.
His expression was almost amused.
She turned to the cameras.
“I’m not going to manufacture a love story because the internet wants one.”
A reporter shouted, “Then it is a fake marriage?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Emily considered.
“Because I stood in front of a minister and made vows. Whether those vows began for unusual reasons does not mean my choices after that moment are fake.”
Another question.
“Were you pressured?”
Emily’s throat tightened.
“My family’s financial situation placed enormous pressure on me.”
Liam became motionless.
She continued.
“Liam did not threaten me. But I also don’t think powerful people should pretend circumstances don’t matter simply because a contract is technically legal.”
Several reporters glanced at Liam.
Emily knew that sentence could hurt him.
She said it anyway.
Then Liam stepped toward the microphone.
Emily looked at him.
He waited.
Not speaking.
Asking.
She nodded.
He stepped beside her.
“Mrs. Whitmore is correct.”
The reporters erupted again.
Liam continued.
“I had more power in the negotiation than she did. That fact should have concerned me more than it did.”
Emily stared at him.
No executive admitted weakness publicly.
Certainly not Liam Whitmore.
“I cannot change how the marriage began,” he said. “I can ensure that every decision she makes now is freely hers.”
“Are you saying she can divorce you?”
“Yes.”
“Without financial penalty?”
“Yes.”
“And Carter Manufacturing?”
“Protected.”
“Would you fight a divorce?”
The question seemed to strike him.
For half a second Emily saw the answer before he gave it.
Yes.
He would hate it.
But Liam said, “No.”
Something in her chest hurt.
The press conference lasted twenty-three minutes.
By noon, the story had changed.
Not disappeared.
Changed.
Some commentators still called the marriage disturbing.
Others praised Emily for refusing to hide behind public-relations language.
Video of Liam agreeing that he had possessed disproportionate bargaining power went viral.
Noah texted:
That was insane.
Then:
In a good way.
Then:
Mostly.
Emily smiled.
Across the study, Liam was on the phone.
“Sell them.”
His tone was flat.
Emily frowned.
He continued.
“I don’t care what the market thinks. Liquidate the Harbor Pointe holdings and move the proceeds into the Carter guarantee.”
He ended the call.
“You’re selling property?”
“Nonessential assets.”
“To fund Carter?”
“Yes.”
“Because of the press?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because if Grant destabilizes Whitmore Development, I want Carter insulated.”
Emily studied him.
“You think he leaked the contract.”
“Yes.”
“Can you prove it?”
“Not yet.”
A message appeared on Emily’s phone.
Unknown number.
She opened it.
YOU SHOULD ASK LIAM WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO HIS FIRST MARRIAGE.
A photograph followed.
Liam and Catherine outside a courthouse.
Catherine was crying.
Liam was holding her arm.
Hard.
The image made Emily’s stomach turn.
Another message.
HE WILL TELL YOU SHE STOLE MONEY.
ASK HIM WHY THE POLICE WERE CALLED TO THEIR HOUSE.
Emily looked across the room.
Liam immediately saw something in her face.
“What?”
She handed him the phone.
He read the messages.
The blood seemed to drain from his expression.
“Who sent this?”
“I don’t know.”
He enlarged the photograph.
His jaw tightened.
“Emily.”
“What happened?”
He returned the phone.
“Catherine called the police.”
“Why?”
“She said I threatened her.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did you grab her?”
He looked at the image.
“Yes.”
Emily felt cold.
“Why?”
“She tried to leave with Noah.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to grab her.”
“I know.”
His answer was immediate.
Emily looked at him.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
His gaze became guarded.
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because Noah is coming home.”
As if summoned by his name, the front door opened downstairs.
A few seconds later Noah’s voice carried through the hall.
“Dad?”
Liam’s face changed.
Not fear.
Protectiveness.
Emily understood.
Whatever happened involved Noah.
Noah appeared in the doorway.
He looked from his father to Emily.
“You guys look weird.”
“Thank you,” Emily said.
“Mom’s coming.”
Liam went completely still.
“What?”
“She said she needs to talk to Emily.”
“No.”
Noah rolled his eyes.
“I told her you’d say that.”
“She is not coming into this house.”
Emily looked at Liam.
“Why?”
“Because the last time Catherine stood in this house, she promised she would destroy everything I cared about.”
Noah’s face went white.
“Dad.”
Emily turned toward him.
He knew.
Before she could ask, a car door slammed outside.
Liam walked toward the window.
A black Mercedes stopped at the steps.
A woman stepped out.
Elegant.
Dark-haired.
Beautiful.
The same woman from the photograph.
Catherine Whitmore.
Noah’s mother.
Liam’s former wife.
She looked up at the house.
And smiled.
“Emily,” Liam said quietly.
“What?”
“Whatever she tells you…”
He stopped.
Emily waited.
For once, Liam Whitmore seemed unable to finish a sentence.
May you like
Then the doorbell rang.
Catherine had arrived.
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