Page 70 of His Beloved Princess
"I can't stop crying," I muttered, gulping down the lump in my throat. My chest was tightening, and my stomach was cramping. I didn't know if it was anxiety because of Bastian or nerves about the upcoming performance.
"Those are tears of happiness." Andreas gently turned me towards the door, placing a hand on my back. "He is getting better."
Shaking my head over that goddamn lie, I walked into the hallway, waiting for him to lead the way. The press had already gathered in the conference room in the hospital, established for those purposes. The entire complex was built for extremely wealthy and influential people who could afford above-standard care, and announcements for the public were made there regularly.
Andreas entered the scene first, blocking my view of the reporters hungry for news. I had cameras behind me since my relationship with Bastian was announced, but this was bigger. They hadn't gotten anythingsince our accident, and they were like vultures circling over the corpse. They were starving for scraps or anything they could use. It was like a Christmas party for them, and my poor, empty stomach twisted with nausea when Andreas moved to the side and I saw how many of them were present.
Probably every channel and newspaper sent someone to hear what I had to say. The room was packed to the brim, and almost all eyes were on me.
Everything around me moved in slow motion. A few latecomers tried to push through the crowd to get better places, a redhead reporter with glasses covering half of her face was writing some notes, a man next to her was scratching his chin, looking directly at me, security guards closed the door, and then finally, when Andreas spoke into the mic, my hearing returned. His strong voice echoed throughout the silent room, but I couldn’t comprehend the words. I was shut down, but when he turned to me and stretched his arm in my direction, somehow, I managed to force my legs to move.
He left the place behind the microphone, standing on the right next to the wooden counter, facing the crowd. He was exactly where he promised to be—by my side, giving me the support I desperately needed to get through this.
My mouth was dry like a desert, and my heart was banging in my chest like a sledgehammer. With my sweaty palms, I grabbed the sides of the wooden counter, releasing some air from my lungs to steady my breathing, and I started to talk.
"Good afternoon," I greeted, my voice sounding weird to my own ears. "Thank you all for coming."
I quickly scanned the room for a response, but no one dared to even move. Countless eyes were hanging on my lips, waiting for me to say something worthwhile. I didn't want to think about people at home watching me on TV or listening to the radio. Basically, I was on the news all over the country.
"First, I want to thank the hospital staff for their exceptional work and great care," I began, keeping eye contact with the audience. "Without them, I wouldn't be standing here, giving you good news."
As Andreas assumed, the room turned into a hive full of buzzing. The noise grew louder with people talking to each other; some questions were addressed tome, but I was instructed to ignore them. I gave the reporters a few moments to process what I'd said, and then I continued in a perfectly balanced tone, trying not to think about the lies I was about to tell.
"I'm sure you understand I can't give you the specifics about Sebastian's condition," I said, and all conversations stopped. "But right now, he is stable, off of sedatives, and his health is improving." I inhaled a quick breath, plastering a soft smile on my face. "The entire Thorn family and I thank you for respecting our privacy and for your support and prayers. You're giving us the strength to overcome this difficult time. We can't answer all your questions or reply to all your messages, but know that we feel you're with us."
I connected my hands on the counter to mask their tremor while trying to look as happy as possible.
"I believe that the next time I'm standing in front of you, it'll be with Bastian keeping me company. Thank you, and have a wonderful day."
I gave them the last smile, hoping my performance was enough to persuade them everything was relatively okay, when the reporters started to shout questions at me. They weren't satisfied, yet I had nothing more to tell them. I was just about to leave the stage and the conference room when a man who stood only a few feet from me yelled something unexpected.
"What about the lawsuit?"
I halted my movements, staring at him in surprise. Another few people continued to abuse me with their questions, but I was focused on him. He was maybe a forty-year-old man with short brown hair, glasses in a dark blue square frame, and a crooked nose. He saw that I noticed him and yelled louder.
"Explain the lawsuit!"
I returned to the mic without thinking about the consequences and ignored Andreas’ advice about handling this circus.
"What lawsuit?" I asked calmly, looking directly at the man who started this conversation. The room went silent; only some women were whispering to each other.
"Sebastian Thorn is accused of sexual harassment," the man replied with a stoic face, piercing me with his green eyes. My heart stopped briefly, and I forgot how to breathe.
"Excuse me?" I whispered, shocked to the core, turning slightly to look at Andreas. And his expression only confirmed what I'd just heard. He was glaring at the guy, murdering him with his eyes, and his jaw was clenching rhythmically. He looked ready to explode, and my stomach sank. In a second, announcing good news had turned into a disaster.
"Sarah Pearson, a former marketing manager at Thorn Enterprises, is suing Sebastian Thorn for sexual harassment," the reporter explained, and the blood in my veins started to boil with fury. "She is claiming he fired her after she refused to have sex with him."
"Are you freaking kidding me?"I almost shouted into the microphone, barely holding my anger under control. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Andreas giving me a warning look, but I didn't care what he was thinking. He knew about this, and he decided to hide it from me. He let me walk into the lion's den unarmed, so he had no right to be mad at me when I gave them a piece of my mind about this nonsense.
"I was there when Miss Pearson was fired. Me and another eleven managers of Thorn Enterprises," I stated, fisting my palm to release the tension in my body. "She opposed Sebastian's decisions without a good reason and undermined his position as CEO. She was fired because of her arrogance and incompetence."
"She is saying something different," the reporter objected, approaching the counter. It was astonishing how quiet everyone in the room was while we were talking. They were eating every word we said.
"She is taking advantage of the situation," I retorted, glaring at him. "She is attacking a man who can't defend himself. It looks to me like she is scared of direct confrontation."
"Isn't it the same as with you, Miss Hernandez?" A blonde woman with the badge of the Seattle Times asked, and I raised my eyebrows in confusion.
"With me?" I echoed, overcoming an urge to hit something.
