Chapter 83 The Press Conference
The elevator doors slid open on the 42nd floor and the noise hit me like a wall. Phones ringing off the hook, hurried footsteps echoing down the marble corridor, voices overlapping in sharp, urgent bursts. My new assistant, Marcus fell into step beside me the second I stepped out, tablet already glowing in his hand.
“Sir, it’s chaos down there,” he said under his breath. “The press is packed in the main conference room. Board members are in the secondary suite watching the feed. PR sent a draft statement…”
I cut him off with a raised hand. “No draft, I know what I’m saying.”
Marcus blinked once, then nodded. “Understood. Five minutes until we go live.”
I didn’t answer. My mind was already locked in. Ben had drawn first blood, leaked lies, doctored photos, twisted headlines. He wanted to play dirty. Fine. Two could play.
I’d spent the entire drive from the estate rehearsing the words, not to deny, not to grovel. To set the record straight and bury him in the process.
Marcus kept pace as we moved down the hallway. “The board is… concerned. The 9.50% drop now triggered automatic circuit breakers on three exchanges. They want reassurance.”
“They’ll get it,” I said flatly.
We reached the double doors of the main conference room. Through the frosted glass I could see the sea of tripods, microphones, cameras, and faces already turned toward the podium. The low hum of anticipation leaked out even before Marcus pushed the door open.
He stepped inside first, scanned the room, then looked back at me. “They’re ready, sir.”
I straightened my tie once, squared my shoulders, and walked in.
The room erupted.
Cameras flashed like lightning. Voices overlapped in a chaotic wave.
“Mr. Blackwood, is it true you’ve been having an affair with your son’s wife?”
“Are you planning to marry your stepson’s wife?”
“Comment on the leaked photos…”
I raised one hand.
The room fell deathly silent.
Every lens, every microphone, every pair of eyes locked on me.
I stepped to the podium, gripped the edges, and looked straight into the nearest camera.
“You’ll have to hold your questions until I’m done speaking.”
A ripple of surprise moved through the crowd, but no one interrupted.
I took one slow breath.
“First, before anything else, I’m not standing here to deny the accusations. I’m standing here because certain facts have been deliberately twisted, and I need to set the record straight.”
I paused just long enough for the silence to deepen.
“A few months ago I met a young woman outside a nightclub. She had gone to celebrate with friends. She was drugged, and a stranger was attempting to take advantage of her. I intervened, I got her out of there. That night marked the beginning of our relationship.”
I kept my voice level, careful. No names, no pack references, no mention of mates or bonds, just the truth they could print and sell.
“She later told me she was getting married. That we couldn’t be together anymore. I accepted it, I walked away.”
Another pause. Let them feel the weight.
“That brings me to my stepson, Ben Hangrove.”
The name dropped like a stone into still water.
“To secure a permanent seat on the board of Blackwood Enterprises, company bylaws require him to demonstrate full adult responsibility, including marriage. Ben began searching for a contracted wife. A temporary arrangement, one year, divorce after the seat was secured. I knew about the plan, but I chose not to interfere.”
I leaned forward slightly.
“He found someone, I did not meet her before the wedding day, I had no intention of doing so because I know it's a fake contract marriage. On the wedding day I discovered who she was.”
I let that sit.
“I did not inform Ben that I recognized her, I intended to let the arrangement run its course. But living under the same roof with someone you love, someone you’ve loved long before any contract was signed, is not simple.”
The room was so quiet I could hear the soft whir of camera shutters.
“Ben’s agreement with his contracted wife included a clause: both parties were free to pursue other relationships as long as they remained discreet and did not make them public. He intended to do the same, she honored that clause. We continued our relationship, privately. With his knowledge.”
I straightened.
“The photos circulating online are edited, only one is real, the rest are fabricated. Crude attempts to create scandal.”
A murmur moved through the crowd.
“I allowed Ben to play his games for too long. I won’t allow him to hurt the woman I love any longer.”
I looked directly into the main camera cluster.
“That is all I have to say for now.”
The room exploded.
Questions fired from every direction.
“Is she leaving Ben Hangrove?”
“Who is this mysterious
“Are you planning to marry her?”
“What does Ben Hangrove have to say about this?”
“Is this an admission of adultery?”
I raised my hand again.
“That concludes my statement, you can get your answers from all I said. Thank you.”
I turned and walked off the stage.
Marcus fell beside me the second we cleared the doors. “Board members want to see you immediately.”
“Let them wait five minutes,” I said. “I need to call home.”
I pulled out my phone and dialed Maddie’s number as we moved down the corridor toward my office.
She answered on the second ring.
“Alexander?”
“Hey,” I said, voice softening despite everything. “You okay?”
A small, shaky exhale. “I just saw the press conference live stream. You… you said all that. In front of everyone.”
“I meant every word.”
Silence for a heartbeat.
“I know,” she whispered.
I pushed open my office door and stepped inside, closing it behind me. “I’m handling the rest. Stay home today, don’t look at the comments, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
I ended the call and turned to Marcus, who was already waiting with a tablet.
“Boardroom. Now.”
He nodded.
Time to finish what Ben started