Page 60 of Always Been You
“To clarify, Lawliss Dua is not Derrick Maddox’s wife.” My voice drops, turning cold. Lethal. “She is mine.”
Another round of stunned silence. A few reporters exchange nervous glances, unsure whether to push further.
I arch a brow. “Any more questions?”
Silence.
That’s what I thought.
I step down from the podium and make my way to the family, pulling Lawliss to my side as we turn to leave. Together, we walk back inside, leaving Lauren and her team to wrap up the press conference.
“You okay?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
She exhales, sinking into me, and we move in sync. Around us, quiet murmurs pass between her family, everyone still processing what just happened. But the moment we’re out of sight and out of earshot of the reporters, Elisa suddenly bends over, clutching her stomach as she bursts into uncontrollable laughter.
I stop short, frowning. “The hell?”
Her parents shake their heads, unimpressed but unsurprised. Before I can get an answer, Lawliss pulls away from me, laughter spilling from her lips as she claps a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking.
Oh, she’s in on it too.
“She’s mine,” Elisa mocks, dropping her voice low in an exaggerated attempt to sound like me.
Lawliss loses it. She actually slaps her knee as she doubles over, her whole body shaking.
“Oh my god,” Lauren wheezes, stepping into the room, barely holding herself together. “I think this was the best press conference yet.”
I shake my head, exhaling through my nose. Some things never change.
Aria drops onto the couch, smirking. “Eddie had this whole dark, brooding CEO energy going on. I think I need classes on how to intimidate a room by saying next to nothing.”
“You should’ve seen their faces when he started talking,” Elisa gasps between laughs.
Lawliss, still giggling, shakes her head. “I mean… we just started dating yesterday, and he’s already out there claiming I’m his in front of the entire world.”
I glance at her, my expression unreadable.
She doesn’t even know how true her words are.
Before I can dwell on it, Ines tugs at my arm. “Come on, son, let’s leave them to it.”
I follow without protest, realizing two things. One, she has something to tell me, and two, if they’re anything like they used to be, they’re about to analyze every second of that press conference, the good and the bad, over a few glasses of wine. They used to steal it from the cellar and I was an accomplice by default because I never told on them
I sigh, then fall into step beside her.
“Let’s keep it short so we can join them,” Ines says, leading me into the study.
The moment we step inside, nostalgia grips me.
The room is exactly how I remember it.
The bright shelves still tower over the space, lined with books stacked both neatly and in haphazard piles. The faint scent that lingers in the air reminds me of the hours I used to spend here as a kid with my dad and Andrei, flipping through business books I barely understood.
Andrei sits in his usual chair, relaxed but aware, his sharp eyes watching me closely.
“This is still your space,” I comment, taking in the scattered papers and half-empty glass of whiskey at his desk.
He hums, using a hand to gesture toward the chair across from him. “Sit.”
