And they did. Every one of them moved like a team. As we moved through the narrow hallway, flashes still catching behind the café’s windows, I kept my head down. But part of me left lifted, too—strange and strong. Because even with the chaos outside, even with my heart racing and my world tilting, I’d chosen the pancakes. I laughed. I’d lived, even for a little while.
And I wasn’t going back to silence. Not now.Not ever.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lilianna
We made it back to the car without being spotted by the paparazzi. Julian kept his arm around me the entire way, his body positioned to shield me from potential cameras. Nicolaus had the engine running, and within moments we were pulling away from the café, leaving the photographers scrambling to figure out where we'd gone.
"I'm sorry about that," Julian said, his voice tight with controlled anger. "We should have been more careful."
I sat between him and Miles in the back seat, my hands still trembling slightly. "Will they... will they know who I am?"
"Not from today," Nicolaus answered from the driver's seat, his eyes meeting mine briefly in the rearview mirror. "They didn't get a clear shot of your face."
"But they know we were with an omega," Christopher added, turning slightly in the passenger seat to look at me. "And that's going to fuel speculation. We had something drafted for this when and …if it happened.”
"What kind of statement?" I asked, my voice smaller than I intended.
Julian's hand found mine, his fingers intertwining with my trembling ones. "A basic announcement that we're courting someone, but keeping her identity private for her safety and comfort. Nothing more detailed than that."
My stomach churned at the thought of being discussed in tabloids and gossip columns. "What if they dig deeper? What if they find out about my parents, about the suppressants, about—"
"They won't," Nicolaus interrupted firmly, his blue eyes catching mine in the mirror again. "We have excellent security teams and legal resources. Your privacy is protected."
Miles shifted beside me, his warmth a comfort against my side. "The statement will actually help deflect attention. If they think we're being open about courting someone, they're less likely to dig for scandal."
Miles’s words made sense—logical and measured, like always—but they didn’t untangle the knot sitting tight and coiled in my chest.
I nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast.”
“You didn’t sign up for this,” Julian said quietly, thumb brushing over my knuckles. “And we won’t force you to stay in the spotlight if it gets worse. We can keep things quiet. Discreet.”
“But I’m not ashamed,” I said before I could second-guess it. All of them turned slightly toward me. I hadn’t even realized I’d spoken aloud. My voice shook a little, but I pressed on. “I’m not ashamed of being with you. Of being courted. I’m just…scared.That’s all. I have dealt with the Paparazzi before, but not likethat…”
Christopher’s voice was steady and low. “That’s a normal reaction. Fear means you understand what’s at stake. But so do we and we’re not taking this lightly.”
“And we don’t expect you to have all the answers right now,” Miles added gently. “You’re allowed to feel scared. But you’re not alone in this.”
The car fell quiet for a beat, the soft hum of tires on asphalt filling the space. I let my head rest lightly on Miles’s shoulder, my hand still laced with Julian’s. Safety—real, tangible safety—wrapped around me like a warm shawl, stitched together by strong hands and steady voices.
Christopher cleared his throat. “We’ll head back to the house for now. Once things settle, we can go through the photos they got from the bookstore and café and decide what needs to be addressed.”
“You’re not expected to do any of that,” Julian said quickly. “We’ll handle it.”
“No,” I said softly. “I want to be included. Maybe not in every decision, but... I want to be part of this. It’s my life too.”
That got me a rare smile from Nicolaus in the mirror, small but sincere. "Good," he said simply. "That's exactly what we hoped you'd say."
By the time we pulled into the driveway, some of my anxiety had settled into determination. The shopping trip had been perfect until those final moments, and I refused to let paparazzi steal the joy I'd found in choosing my own clothes, ordering my own food, and openly claiming my place with these four men.
"I need to call my publicist," Julian said as we gathered the shopping bags from the car. "Get ahead of this before the speculation gets out of hand."
"And I should reach out to our security team," Nicolaus added, his analytical mind already working through contingencies. "Make sure they're aware of the increased attention."
Christopher held the front door open for us, his gray eyes still carrying traces of the protective intensity I'd seen at the café. "Would you like to rest for a bit?" he asked, studying my face with concern. "Today was a lot, even before the photographers."
I considered his offer, but the thought of being alone with my racing thoughts didn't appeal to me. "Actually, could we all stay together for a while? Maybe in the living room?"
