Page 172 of Wisteria and Cloves
"It's a matter of time before your mother sees it," Julian confirmed, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "She has connections, and with the way social media works these days... I'd be surprised if it hasn't already reached her."
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "So what do we do now?"
Julian reached for my hand, his warm fingers enveloping mine. "We have options. We can try to get ahead of this, make a statement before your mother has a chance to spin the narrative. Or we can increase security and wait to see how she responds."
"A statement?" I asked, my voice smaller than I intended. "Like... publicly announcing our courtship?"
"Yes," Julian said, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my wrist. "It would mean stepping into the spotlight sooner than we'd planned, but it might give us some control over the situation.”
I nodded mechanically, my mind racing through the implications. All these months of careful secrecy, undone by a single photograph. "What about the rest of the pack? Do they know?"
"I've told them. Christopher's downstairs making tea, Miles is in the garden—his way of processing—and Nicolaus is..." Julian paused, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "He's blaming himself. Quite thoroughly."
My heart clenched. "It's not his fault."
"I know that. You know that. But you know how he is—methodical, careful. He feels he should have been more awareof their surroundings." Julian's thumb continued its soothing motion against my skin. "He's in his study, probably researching every legal angle we might need."
I stood up abruptly, pacing to the window. Outside, I could see Miles in the garden, his movements more aggressive than usual as he worked the soil. Even from here, I could see the tension in his shoulders.
"This is exactly what I was afraid of," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "That my past would catch up and hurt all of you."
"Lilianna." Julian's voice was firm, commanding my attention. When I turned to look at him, his expression was resolute. "This changes nothing about how we feel about you. Nothing."
"But it changes everything else," I said, wrapping my arms around myself. "The media attention, the scrutiny, my mother's inevitable involvement—"
"Are challenges we'll face together," Julian finished, rising from the bed to cross to me. His hands settled on my shoulders, steady and reassuring. "You're not facing this alone anymore."
I leaned into his touch, drawing strength from his certainty even as my mind spun with worst-case scenarios. "What if she tries to paint me as some kind of runaway? What if she claims I was kidnapped or coerced?"
"Then we'll have documentation proving otherwise," Julian said firmly. "The original contract your mother signed, the records of our proper courtship, witness statements from Elena, from Lydia and her pack. We're not defenseless here."
I nodded, trying to absorb his reassurance even as anxiety clawed at my chest. "What about the media? Once they start digging into our relationship, they'll want to know everything. About the arrangement, about why I left home, about us."
Julian's expression grew thoughtful. "That's where making a statement first could work in our favor. If we control thenarrative from the beginning, we can frame it as a modern love story—an arranged introduction that bloomed into genuine courtship and love."
"Is that what it was?" I asked quietly, searching his face. "Just an arranged introduction?"
His hands tightened on my shoulders, his eyes intense. "You know it became so much more than that. What we have now—what we've built together—that's real. That's ours." He paused, studying my expression. "But yes, we can present it that way. It's not untrue, and it might help soften the more controversial aspects."
I nodded slowly, considering his words. "What kind of statement are we talking about? A press release? An interview?"
"We have several options," Julian said, his voice taking on the measured tone he used when discussing strategy. "A simple written statement through my firm's PR department, a more personal post on social media, or if we want maximum control, we could arrange an interview with a journalist we trust."
The thought of sitting down with a reporter made my stomach churn. "I don't know if I'm ready for an interview. Not yet."
"That's perfectly understandable," Julian assured me. "We could start with something smaller. A joint statement from the pack, perhaps, announcing our courtship and expressing our happiness together."
I moved to sit on the window seat, pulling my knees up to my chest as I thought. "What would we even say? 'Surprise, we're courting an Omega who was sold to us by her mother?'" The bitterness in my voice surprised even me.
Julian came to sit beside me, his expression softening. "No. We would say that we met through a traditional introduction, that we chose to pursue a proper courtship, and that we're very happy together." His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face. "All of which is true."
I leaned into his touch, drawing comfort from the warmth of his hand. "And what happens when my mother gives her version? When she talks about how I ran away from my responsibilities?"
"Then we address it calmly and factually," Julian replied, his voice steady. "We emphasize that you're an adult who made her own choice, and that we've followed all traditional protocols for courtship."
I considered his words, trying to imagine how this might play out in the press. My mother was well-connected, respected in certain circles. Her version would carry weight with the more traditional elements of society. But then again, Julian's pack was equally respected, their reputation for integrity well-established.
"What about my social media?" I asked suddenly. "People have been following my journey, my art, my music lessons. They don't know who I am or about the pack, but once this breaks..."
