I squeeze her hand once. Then release it and step forward to the microphone that Nacho's deputy set up an hour ago.
The crowd goes quiet.
Cameras flash. Recording lights blink red. Somewhere in the back, a baby starts crying and is quickly hushed.
"Good morning." My voice carries across the square, amplified by speakers that whine with feedback for a second before settling. "My name is Sergio Negrorio. I'm here on behalf of my family to make a statement regarding the recent media coverage of Ms. Jessica Delacroix."
I pause. Let the silence stretch. Let them lean in.
"Three weeks ago, Ms. Delacroix arrived at our home seeking refuge from an abusive relationship. We provided that refuge. We will continue to provide it for as long as she needs."
A murmur ripples through the crowd. Reporters scribble notes. Cameras zoom in.
"The stories currently circulating about Ms. Delacroix are false. They were planted by her former fiancé, Callum, in an attempt to discredit her and avoid accountability for his own behavior."
I let that sink in. Watch the reporters exchange glances.
"Mr. Morrison has a documented history of harassment and intimidation toward romantic partners. Multiple women have filed complaints against him over the past decade. Those complaints were suppressed through financial settlements and legal threats by the Morrison family."
Rosa Castellano steps forward, tablet raised.
"I have documentation of three previous allegations against Callum Morrison." Her voice is clear, practiced. "Sealed records that were obtained through legitimate journalistic investigation. Two of the women involved have agreed to speak on the record about their experiences."
The murmur becomes a roar. Questions start flying.
"Mr. Negrorio, are you confirming a romantic relationship with Ms. Delacroix?"
"What evidence do you have of these prior allegations?"
"Is the Morrison family aware of these claims?"
"Will Ms. Delacroix be pursuing legal action?"
I raise my hand. The crowd quiets.
"Ms. Delacroix's personal life is not the subject of this press conference. Her safety is." I let my gaze sweep across the assembled reporters. "What I will say is this: Jessica Delacroix is under the protection of the Negrorio pack. Any further harassment, whether from media outlets, online commentators, or representatives of the Morrison family, will be met with immediate legal action."
I pause. Let the weight of the words settle.
"We have retained legal counsel. We have documentation of defamatory statements. And we will not hesitate to pursue every available remedy against anyone who continues to spread lies about a woman whose only crime was walking away from a man who didn't deserve her."
Silence.
Complete, absolute silence.
I step back from the microphone.
Jessica is staring at me. Her eyes are wet. Her lips are parted. She looks like she's forgotten how to breathe.
I extend my hand to her.
She takes it.
I pull her forward, positioning her beside me at the microphone. My arm wraps around her waist. Possessive. Protective. Making a statement without saying a word.
She's ours now. Not his.
The cameras go wild.
