Public Echoes

**Chapter 11: Public Echoes**

The memorial service was held in a sleek, modern chapel attached to one of the city’s most prestigious country clubs. Sora stood before the large portrait of Melvin, dressed in a fitted black dress that accentuated her full figure rather than hiding it. The fabric hugged her generous breasts, wide hips, and soft belly with quiet elegance. For the first time in years, she hadn’t chosen something shapeless to disappear in.

Jack stood beside her like a dark guardian, tall and imposing in his tailored suit. His hand rested possessively at the small of her back.

“You don’t have to do this,” he had told her in the car.

“I do,” she’d replied. “I need closure.”

Now, as people offered stiff condolences, the whispers began.

“…poor thing. He was always so handsome. Wonder what she did to make him want a divorce…”

“…clearly let herself go. No wonder he was looking elsewhere…”

Sora’s fingers tightened around the program in her hands. Old shame tried to rise, but something stronger pushed back — the memory of George’s reverent touch the night before, Jack’s fierce words in his office.

She lifted her chin.

A woman in a tight designer dress leaned toward her companion loud enough for Sora to hear. “I mean, look at her. He was probably embarrassed to be seen with her in public.”

Jack’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Enough.”

The room quieted. He stared the woman down with icy disdain. “If you came here to gossip, the door is behind you. Sora Robbins is more gracious, intelligent, and beautiful than anyone in this room deserves to stand beside. Including the man in that portrait.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Jack’s hand slid around Sora’s waist, pulling her closer to his side. The warmth of his palm against her curves grounded her.

Sora met the eyes of several onlookers steadily. “Thank you all for coming to honor Melvin,” she said, voice clear and steady. “He was… complicated. But today is about remembering the life he lived.”

She felt Jack’s pride like a tangible thing.

As the service concluded, a striking woman with sleek dark hair and elegant features approached them. She carried herself with polished confidence, though her eyes were red-rimmed.

“Sora, I presume?” the woman said, offering a perfectly manicured hand. “I’m Cassie Brown. I worked very closely with Melvin on several projects. He spoke of you often.”

The way Cassie said it felt too intimate. Her gaze flicked over Sora’s body with thinly veiled judgment before returning to her face with a sweet, sympathetic smile.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Cassie continued. “Melvin was… special. I was with him on some of his final business trips. He trusted me deeply.”

Jack’s grip on Sora tightened. Sora simply nodded. “Thank you, Cassie. I appreciate you coming.”

Cassie lingered a moment too long before gliding away, but not before casting one last lingering look toward the portrait of Melvin.

Later that evening, Jack didn’t take Sora back to the Harrison mansion. Instead, his driver brought them to his sprawling penthouse overlooking the glittering city skyline.

The moment the elevator doors closed, Jack had her against the wall. His kiss was hungry, devouring. He lifted her effortlessly, hands gripping the generous flesh of her thighs as he carried her inside.

“You were incredible today,” he growled between kisses, setting her on the edge of his massive bed. “So strong. So fucking beautiful.”

He stripped her slowly, reverently, until she lay bare before him. Then Jack worshipped her with his mouth and hands. He lavished attention on her heavy breasts, sucking and kneading, moving down to kiss every stretch mark along her soft belly and wide hips.

“Every inch of you,” he murmured against her skin, “is perfect. Made for me to ruin and cherish.”

Sora moaned as he settled between her thick thighs, his tongue working her with skilled precision until she shattered. Only then did he shed his own clothes, revealing a powerful, sculpted body. He entered her in one smooth thrust, filling her completely.

Their lovemaking was intense — a perfect balance of dominance and care. Jack pinned her wrists above her head with one hand while the other gripped her hip, driving into her with deep, possessive strokes.

“Look at me,” he commanded. “You’re mine now, Sora. This body. This heart. All of it.”

She came again with his name on her lips, and Jack followed soon after, burying himself deep as he groaned her name like a prayer.

Afterward, he pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair and tracing lazy patterns over her curves as they lay tangled in silk sheets.

“Whatever comes next,” he whispered, “I’ve got you.”

Sora nestled closer, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Outside, in the glittering city below, unseen forces were already beginning to move. But for tonight, wrapped in Jack’s powerful embrace, she allowed herself to feel safe.