Page 11 of Forever His Favorite
The hall erupted with gasps, disbelief vibrating through the walls.
“This announcement today is to declare clearly that I lied. As Miss Emily Crawford has always said, I was her boyfriend for the past five years. And I…” His voice caught for the briefest second, his hand gripping the podium tighter. “…I betrayed her. I liedand got engaged to Amelia for business benefits. Everything Miss Crawford has ever said was true.”
He didn’t wait for the next question. With a sharp turn, he strode off the stage, his shoulders rigid, Dillon hurrying behind.
The press conference streamed live, and within minutes the backlash spread online like wildfire. Social media feeds exploded with clips and headlines: #LucasCantrellLies, #JusticeForEmily, #AmeliaExposed.
The air outside the hotel was thick with chaos as reporters rushed to relay the breaking news.
As Lucas and Dillon pushed through the crowd to the car, Dillon’s phone buzzed relentlessly in his palm. His eyes scanned the flood of notifications, headlines, and angry posts piling up by the second.
“Mr. Cantrell,” he said carefully, voice low, “the backlash online is severe. People are saying you made Emily look like a liar for five years. The company’s stock is already crashing.”
Lucas slid into the car, his expression unshaken. His jaw flexed once, but his voice was calm, chillingly resolute. “Drive to Emily’s apartment.”
Dillon slid in the driver’s seat, and glanced at him in the rearview mirror, unease flickering in his eyes. Lucas’s face was a mask of icy calm, not a trace of fear or panic—not for his company, not for his projects.
The man who had always put business first now radiated only one focus: Emily.
An hour later, the car screeched to a stop outside Emily’s apartment building. Before Dillon could even open his door, Lucas was already out, striding forward, his long legs carryinghim in urgent, determined steps. His heart hammered in his chest, every beat louder than the last.
He took the stairs two at a time, his hand gripping the railing so hard his knuckles whitened. Finally, he reached her door. His fingers punched in the familiar code on the keypad.
Beep.
Red light.
Lucas’s brows snapped together. Wrong.
He tried again, pressing slower this time, his lips moving with each number.
Beep.Red light again.
His breath hitched. His chest rose and fell rapidly, panic clawing its way into his lungs. He braced a hand against the wall, his other hand trembling as he jabbed the buttons again, muttering every number under his breath with every press of his finger.
Beep.Red.
Lucas’s fingers tightened against the keypad, knuckles whitening as the frustration coiled in his chest. His jaw clenched, the muscle twitching violently as he ground his teeth. He pushed off the wall, chest rising sharply with each ragged breath, tension rolling down his arms and legs.
He jabbed his thumb against the doorbell. The shrill chime echoed inside the apartment, bouncing back against the narrow hallway walls. No answer.
Impatience flared, a flash of heat creeping up his neck. He pressed the bell again, this time holding his thumb down, letting the piercing chime drag endlessly through the corridor. Still, silence.
The quiet pressed in around him, almost suffocating. The faint hum of the building’s air conditioning and the distant traffic outside only amplified the emptiness. He pressed it a third time, refusing to lift his thumb, letting the sound vibrate through the hallway. Still—nothing.
A slow shuffle of footsteps interrupted his spiraling panic. A man appeared down the corridor, moving with heavy steps. A grocery bag swung from one hand, keys clutched in the other. He paused across from Emily’s apartment, squinting at Lucas briefly before returning to his lock.
“No one lives there, man,” the stranger said casually, voice almost indifferent.
Lucas froze, his entire body stiffening. His head snapped toward the man, eyes wide, sharp with disbelief and a rising tension that made his heart hammer painfully against his ribs. “What?” His voice was sharp, strained. “Since when?”
The man shrugged, unlocking his door. “I don’t know. Some months, maybe? A chick had moved in, but I haven’t seen her in a while. Guess she moved out already.”
Lucas’s stomach dropped, and a ringing started in his ears, harsh and relentless. His chest tightened, breaths shallow and ragged. Panic surged, clawing at his ribs from the inside, threatening to crush him.
He swayed slightly, pressing a hand against the wall for support, sweat prickling along his brow.
His trembling fingers fumbled for his phone, nearly dropping it as he dialed Emily’s number. Press, press, press—the cold plastic bit into his skin. It rang. No answer.
