Chapter 4. The Press Conference

Lucien didn’t look at Daniel. He kept his eyes on Lila.

“Come with me,” he said. Not loud. Not pushy. But he wasn’t really asking.

Daniel leaned back against a metal shelf, arms crossed. “Careful, Lila. This is the part where billionaires rewrite history.”

Lucien didn’t blink. “You’re shaking.”

Lila hadn’t even noticed. Now she felt it—anger, burning up in her chest. She hated that he saw it. Hated that Daniel saw it too.

“I’m fine,” she snapped.

Lucien shook his head. “No. You’re not.”

That hit her nerve.

“Don’t pretend to care,” she shot back. “You signed his approval.”

Daniel smiled, just a little. He was loving this.

Lucien’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He stepped closer—not in her space, just enough to take the spotlight off Daniel.

“You deserve answers,” Lucien said. “But not with all this.”

“With what?” Daniel jumped in. “In private? With the story already packaged? In a room where lawyers pick the color of the walls?”

Finally, Lucien glanced at him.

“You don’t care about her,” he said, voice level. “You care about damage control.”

Daniel pushed off the shelf. “And you care about how it looks.”

The silence that followed was sharp.

Lila felt like she was watching two storms sizing each other up.

Then Lucien did something she didn’t expect. He reached for her hand. Not grabbing, not holding on—just enough that she felt his warmth.

“We’re going downstairs,” he said. “There are reporters outside.”

Her heart jumped. “What?”

“The leak was thirty minutes ago,” Lucien said. “Partial documents. Enough to stir things up. Not enough to burn it all down. Not yet.”

Daniel’s face didn’t move, but something flickered in his eyes.

“You jumped the gun,” Lucien said quietly to him.

Daniel tilted his head. “Call it insurance.”

Lila’s pulse hammered in her ears.

“You leaked it?” she whispered.

Daniel didn’t bother to deny it.

Lucien’s hand held hers a little tighter. “If you walk out that door alone, they’ll rip you apart. They’ll say you’re unstable. That you forged evidence. That you’re grieving and confused.”

She swallowed. Her mouth was dry.

“And if I walk out with you?” she asked.

Lucien met her eyes.

“They’ll listen.”

Daniel let out a breathy laugh. “There it is. The offer.”

Lucien ignored him.

“I’m not asking you to marry me,” Lucien told her, voice low. “But you have to survive this.”

No drama. No romance. Just survive.

That was real.

Outside, footsteps rushed down the hall. Voices echoed. Someone called Lucien’s name.

Daniel stepped closer to Lila. “This is how he traps you. One photo op. One show of unity. Next thing you know, you’re his loyal fiancée defending the hospital.”

Lucien’s voice dropped. “I’m not asking you to defend anything.”

“Then what are you asking?” Lila pressed.

His eyes softened, just a touch.

“I want you to stand next to me so I can say something I should’ve said years ago.”

The air changed.

Daniel’s smile faded.

“What does that mean?” Lila asked.

Lucien hesitated. Then finally—

“It means your father asked to withdraw from the trial.”

Lila felt the air leave her lungs.

Daniel straightened up.

Lucien kept going, voice steady but tight. “And I approved it.”

Everything went quiet.

Lila stared at him. “You just said you signed the approval,” she said, barely above a whisper.

“I signed his release form,” Lucien said. “Not his continuation.”

The room felt smaller, somehow.

Daniel’s jaw set. “That’s not what the internal logs show.”

Lucien didn’t look at him. “Because someone changed them.”

Lila’s heart thudded in her chest.

“Who?” she demanded.

Lucien’s eyes flicked to Daniel—a split second, but she saw it.

Daniel’s face went stone-cold.

“That’s a bold accusation,” he said, voice low.

Lucien’s grip didn’t tighten. It steadied.

“You want the truth?” Lucien said. “Let’s tell it in public.”

Daniel laughed, sharp and short. “You think a press conference saves you?”

“No,” Lucien said. Calm as ever. “But it drags everyone into the light.”

The hallway noise got louder.

A security guard stepped into the doorway. “Sir, they’re asking for a statement.”

Lucien nodded.

Then he looked at Lila.

“This is it,” he said.

Her mind spun. Daniel had told her Lucien let the trial keep going. Lucien said he signed her father out. Someone was lying. And downstairs, the press waited.

“If I walk out there with you,” she said, voice steady but slow, “you answer my questions. Every one.”

“Yes.”

“No half-truths.”

“Yes.”

“No protecting the board.”

His jaw worked. “I’m not protecting anyone who altered records.”

Daniel’s voice slid in, low. “Careful, Lucien.”

Lucien didn’t even look his way.

Camera flashes bounced off the glass at the end of the hall. Reporters’ voices carried up the stairwell.

“Is it true the hospital falsified records?”

“Was there a cover-up?”

“Is this about the Cole family trial scandal?”

Her stomach flipped. This wasn’t private anymore. Her grief had become a headline.

Lucien leaned in, barely above a whisper. “If you don’t trust me, fine. But trust this—Daniel doesn’t want the truth clean. He wants it to blow up.”

Daniel didn’t argue. He didn’t have to. It was true.

Lila looked from one to the other. One held power. The other, a match. Both hid things.

She slid her hand from Lucien’s. Both men froze.

“I’ll go,” she said.

Daniel’s lips twitched, almost a smile.

Lucien didn’t move.

“But I’m not with you,” she said. “Not in public, not in private. I don’t owe loyalty.”

Lucien’s eyes searched her face. “Then what are you doing?”

She swallowed. “I’m going as Lila Hart. My father deserved better.”

Daniel’s smile vanished. Lucien nodded.

“Alright,” he said.

They walked together down the corridor. The elevator felt like a chokehold. Daniel stayed behind, silent, phone in hand. Watching.

The doors slid open. The lobby exploded. Cameras everywhere. Lights so bright they blurred her vision.

Lucien stepped forward. He didn’t shield her or try to hold on. He just stood beside her.

Reporters shouted.

“Mr. Cole, did the hospital alter clinical trial data?”

“Is this about the Hart case?”

Lucien raised a hand. The noise dipped.

“Yes,” he said.

The word cracked through the crowd. Gasps.

“Yes,” he said again. “Records were altered.”

Shouts rose up.

“Who did it?”

“Was it you?”

“Are you admitting liability?”

Lucien’s voice stayed steady. “I approved a withdrawal for Mr. Hart three days before he died. That withdrawal never happened.”

The room froze. Lila’s ears rang. Not processed.

Her knees went soft.

“So you’re saying someone ignored your signed release?” a reporter asked.

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t know?”

Lucien’s jaw tightened. “I know now.”

The weight of it crashed over them.

Cameras swung toward her. A mic hovered close.

“Miss Hart, do you believe him?”

Her father’s face flashed in her head. The machines. The hospital smell. The last time he squeezed her hand.

She looked at Lucien. For a second, fear broke through his mask. Not for him—for her answer.

She faced the cameras. “I believe someone didn’t want my father to leave that trial.”

The place broke open.

“Who?”

“Are you accusing the board?”

“Is there a whistleblower?”

Lucien didn’t stop her. He let her speak.

And then she saw Daniel at the edge of the room, just watching. Phone in hand.

She felt it before she heard it—Lucien’s phone buzzing. Then again. And again. Reporters’ phones lit up.

Notifications. Alerts.

A journalist gasped. “Oh my God.”

“What?” someone yelled.

The journalist looked right at Lucien. “They just released the full file.”

Lila’s blood iced. Full file? Not pieces. Everything. Names, signatures, emails, charts. Her father’s records. All of it.

Daniel had acted. Didn’t wait.

Lucien’s face turned to stone. She saw it—the form to withdraw her father. Lucien’s signature. But the date—

The date was wrong. Backdated. After her father died.

Reporters lunged.

“Did you forge this?”

“Did you cover it up?”

“Is that your signature, Mr. Cole?”

Lucien stared at the image on a phone, stunned, and for once, he looked lost.

“That’s not the date I signed,” he whispered.

Lila’s heart crashed. Someone had changed it. Again. And now Lucien looked guilty.

Daniel’s phone buzzed once more. He didn’t smile. He just watched her and mouthed one word.

Choose.