Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Interrogation

The Titan agents formed a protective circle around me, giving me space to breathe for the first time in what felt like hours. I collapsed against Dominic's chest, my whole body shaking with adrenaline and terror.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his hands running over my arms and shoulders, checking for injuries.

"The baby," I whispered. "I think the baby's okay, but Jules—"

"We've got her," one of the Titan agents said, helping Jules to her feet. Blood was still streaming from the cut on her forehead, but she was conscious and swearing creatively at the reporters who'd caused the chaos.

Dominic's attention turned to the crowd of journalists, who were now looking significantly less aggressive faced with a wall of professional security personnel.

"Harrison," Dominic called out, his voice deadly calm. "I want every single one of these people detained and brought to the warehouse. Now."

"Sir—" one of the reporters started to protest.

"You just participated in a coordinated attack on a pregnant woman," Dominic cut him off. "You're coming with us whether you like it or not."

"We need to get you out of here," Dominic said to me, his hands gentle on my face. "Somewhere safe while we deal with this."

"I want to be there when you question them," I said.

"Scarlett—"

"No, Dominic. They tried to hurt me and our baby. I want to look them in the eye when we find out who sent them."

He studied my face for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. But we get you checked by a medic first."

Within minutes, the Titan agents had efficiently rounded up every reporter in the lobby. Some protested loudly about press freedom and illegal detention, but they found themselves outnumbered and outmuscled by professionals who clearly knew what they were doing.

"Move them out," Harrison ordered. "Separate vehicles. No communication between them."

As the agents herded the reporters toward the exit, Dominic wrapped his arm around my waist. "Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," I said, though my legs were still shaky.

"Jules, you good?"

"Better than fine," Jules said, holding the gauze pad to her head. "I can't wait to hear what these assholes have to say for themselves."

We made our way to Dominic's car, leaving the Van Alston building behind. The warehouse was a twenty-minute drive through Manhattan traffic, and by the time we arrived, Harrison had already set up what looked like an interrogation facility.

"Jesus," Jules breathed as we walked into the main space. "How did you guys get this ready so fast?"

"We keep facilities like this prepared for situations exactly like today," Harrison explained. "The reporters are separated into different rooms. We'll question them individually."

That was when Harrison pulled out his tablet and showed us the preliminary results.

"Sir, we've identified seven individuals in this crowd who are not legitimate journalists."

"What are they?"

"Freelance agitators. Paid to escalate the situation and create a dangerous environment."

My blood ran cold. "Paid by who?"

Harrison's expression was grim. "Same funding source as the media campaign. Lydia Blackwood, channeled through offshore accounts."

I stared at the monitor showing the detained reporters, understanding hitting me like a physical blow. This wasn't just aggressive journalism. This was attempted murder dressed up as freedom of the press.

"She hired people to hurt me," I said, my voice flat with shock.

"More than that," Harrison said. "We've traced communications between these agitators and someone inside the psychiatric facility where Delilah is being held."

"Delilah's still coordinating attacks from inside?"

"Through intermediaries. Someone on the outside is acting as her contact point, passing messages and coordinating strategy."

Dominic's face had gone white with rage. "You're telling me my mother and Delilah are working together to orchestrate physical attacks on my pregnant wife?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you."

The thin reporter who'd grabbed my arm was slowly backing toward the exit, probably realizing that this situation had moved far beyond normal press coverage. But one of the Titan agents stepped smoothly into his path.

"Where do you think you're going?" the agent asked politely.

"I have a right to leave," the reporter said, but his voice was shaking now.

"You have the right to remain silent," Harrison said, producing a pair of handcuffs. "You're under arrest for assault and conspiracy to commit bodily harm."

"You can't arrest me for asking questions!"

"I'm not arresting you for asking questions. I'm arresting you for grabbing a pregnant woman and participating in a coordinated attempt to cause her physical harm."

As Harrison read the man his rights, I looked around the warehouse at the remaining detained reporters. Most of them looked genuinely shocked by what had just happened, probably realizing for the first time that they'd been used as cover for something much more sinister.

Jules was sitting on one of the metal chairs they'd brought in, holding a gauze pad to the cut on her forehead. "Well, that was fun," she said dryly.

"How's your head?" I asked, sitting down beside her.

"I'll live. How's the baby?"

I placed my hand on my stomach, trying to assess any damage. "I think we're okay. Scared, but okay."

"Good. Because I was about to start breaking kneecaps if anything happened to that kid."

Dominic was standing with Harrison, their voices low and intense as they discussed next steps. I could only catch fragments of their conversation, but words like "federal charges" and "conspiracy" kept coming up.

"Scarlett," Dominic called me over. "We need to talk about security. This situation is escalating beyond what we originally anticipated."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Lydia isn't just trying to discredit you anymore. She's actively trying to hurt you. Today could have killed you and the baby."

The reality of what had just happened was starting to sink in. I'd been minutes away from being trampled to death by a mob that included people specifically hired to make sure things went bad.

"What are our options?" I asked.

"Short term, we increase security. Long term..." Harrison paused, glancing at Dominic.

"Long term, we end this," Dominic said. "Permanently."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we stop playing defense and start playing offense," Dominic said. "Your idea about buying the media outlets that have been attacking you? We do that. Today."

"Can we move that fast?"

"We can when we're dealing with companies that have been taking dirty money to run hit pieces," Harrison said. "Most of these outlets are smaller operations. They'll fold fast when faced with federal conspiracy charges."

I looked around the warehouse, thinking about what had just happened. Thinking about the fear in my chest when I'd thought I was going to fall, when I'd been terrified that the baby wouldn't survive.

"Do it," I said. "Buy them all. And then we make sure everyone knows exactly who was behind this."

"What about Lydia?" Dominic asked. "And Delilah?"

I smiled, feeling that familiar cold rage settling in my chest. "Oh, I have plans for them too."

"What kind of plans?"

"The kind that make sure they never threaten my family again."

Because that's what this was about now. Not just my reputation or my inheritance or my business empire. This was about my family. My baby. The life I was building with Dominic.

And I was done letting other people threaten what was mine.