Chapter 6 The PR Machine

[POV: Lanaya Roux]

The blinding flash of cameras was a physical assault.

Lanaya stood at the center of the Redstone arena press room, her face locked into a smile that felt brittle enough to shatter. The air was thick with the smell of cheap coffee and expensive perfume. Dozens of reporters shoved microphones forward, their voices a deafening roar of overlapping questions.

Maverick stood beside her.

He was wearing a perfectly tailored navy suit that made him look less like a hockey player and more like a predatory CEO. His arm was wrapped securely around her waist. His hand rested low on her hip, his long fingers pressing possessively against the silk of her dress.

Every time she tried to put an inch of space between them, his grip tightened, pulling her flush against his side.

You will hold my hand. You will smile for the cameras.

His threat from the night before played on a vicious, agonizing loop in her mind. Along with the ghost of his mouth on hers.

"Maverick! Lanaya!" A reporter from Boston Sports Network shoved his way to the front. "The rivalry between Thornhill and Redstone is legendary. How did you two keep this relationship a secret for so long?"

Maverick leaned into the microphone. "It wasn't easy," he said, his voice a smooth, deep rumble that carried perfectly over the noise. "But when you find something real, you protect it. We didn't want the media circus interfering with our seasons."

"And the merger?" another reporter shouted. "Critics are saying this engagement is awfully convenient timing."

Lanaya's stomach plummeted. She opened her mouth to recite the PR-approved script, but Maverick beat her to it.

He shifted his stance, turning slightly to look down at her. His grey-blue eyes locked onto hers. The expression on his face was terrifyingly gentle, completely masking the toxic, volatile man she knew he was.

"The merger was a surprise to us both," Maverick lied flawlessly. "But my father and Camden Roux realized what Lanaya and I have known for months. Some partnerships are meant to be permanent."

He reached up. His thumb lightly brushed a stray curl away from Lanaya's face. The touch was agonizingly tender.

The cameras went wild.

"Miss Roux!" A sharp female voice cut through the chaos. "You're wearing Crew's number. Does this engagement mean the feud over his foundation is finally over?"

The room went dead silent.

Lanaya froze. The smile melted off her face. The name Crew was a physical blow to her chest. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. The lights in the room suddenly felt too bright, too hot.

She felt Maverick's hand tighten sharply on her hip, grounding her.

"The foundation," Lanaya forced the words out, her voice trembling slightly, "is exactly why we are all here. The merger ensures that Crew's legacy will continue to grow and support young athletes across the city."

"So you forgive Maverick for the accident?"

The question was a grenade.

Lanaya stared at the reporter. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. She could feel Alexander Hayden's furious gaze burning into her from the side of the stage. She could feel her father's panic.

She felt Maverick go completely rigid beside her. The arm around her waist felt like iron.

She looked up at him. The mask had cracked. Under the glaring lights, the raw, broken guilt he hid from the world was painfully visible in his eyes. He was waiting for the execution. He was waiting for her to say no.

If you look at me like you hate me... I will pull you in front of the cameras and do exactly what I just did.

Lanaya swallowed the bile in her throat. She looked back at the reporter, forcing a serene, devastating lie past her lips.

"There is nothing to forgive. It was a tragedy. Maverick was Crew's best friend. He loved him just as much as I did."

The words came out steadier than she expected. She told herself it was because she was a good liar. She didn't examine the other possibilities.

A collective sigh of relief swept through the executives. The reporters scribbled furiously.

Maverick stared down at her, chest heaving slightly. The shock in his eyes was absolute.

"Thank you, everyone," the lead PR director announced, stepping quickly to the podium. "That is all the time we have for today."

Maverick didn't wait. He dropped his arm from her waist, grabbed her hand, and pulled her off the stage. His grip was entirely too tight as he dragged her down the hallway, ignoring the executives and PR reps trying to intercept them.

He didn't stop until they reached a deserted VIP lounge. He shoved the door open, pulled her inside, and slammed it shut, locking it.

"What was that?" he demanded, his voice a lethal, vibrating rasp.

Lanaya ripped her hand from his grip. "That was me doing my job. That was me saving my brother's foundation."

"You lied."

"Of course I lied! That is the entire point of this arrangement!"

Maverick stepped into her space, crowding her backward until her spine hit the heavy oak door. The distance between them vanished. The suffocating heat of his body was overwhelming.

"You don't forgive me," he stated.

Lanaya didn't answer immediately. The silence stretched one beat too long, thin and fragile and loaded with everything she had spent the morning performing over. She turned her face slightly to the side, not quite looking at him. When she finally spoke, her voice was flat - not cold, but controlled, the way a person sounds when they are keeping something from moving.

"No," she said. "I don't."

Something shifted in Maverick's face. Not softness. Nothing as readable as that. More like the faint recognition of a man who has heard a line before and knows exactly what it costs to say it. His jaw tightened once, then released. He looked at her the way she had looked at the photograph in the tunnel - like he was standing at the edge of something he couldn't afford to step into.

Then it was gone.

He leaned down. His face was mere inches from hers. The heavy scent of cedar and pure adrenaline flooded her senses.

"Good," he said, his voice dropping into a dark, low register that made her shiver. "Because if you stop hating me, Huntress... we are both going to lose."

She turned away first. She didn't slam the door on her way out. She just left, quietly, which was worse, and both of them knew it.