CHAPTER 109: LOVE OUT LOUD

"Today, I’m speaking as someone who’s witnessed firsthand how vicious, aggressive and reckless journalism can destroy a person." Craig said, voice low but cutting,

A few murmurs rippled through the crowd, followed by a single dry cough from the back row, but his gaze didn’t waver.

"You’ve harassed a college student. A grieving one. One who spent a year believing her mother was dead, only to discover she was alive. And worse, that the person who tried to kill her... was her own father."

Several reporters shifted in closer, almost stepping over each other, with desperation to get the best angle, the best audio.

"She didn’t just lose a parent," Craig continued, voice thickening. "She lost both. In two different ways. Her mother, to a year of mourning and grief. Her father, to the kind of betrayal that can’t be undone."

Somewhere near the back, Phoebe and Megan stood frozen, their textbooks clutched tightly to their chests.

They had just rushed out of class, along with other students, the moment they heard Craig Lesnar was speaking to the press, they followed the noise and ended up there, watching, breath held, as everything unraveled.

"We should be sympathizing with her," Craig said, voice quieter now but somehow sharper, like a blade gliding slow. "With her siblings. With the unimaginable loss they’ve endured. Instead, you chose cruelty. Because it got clicks. Because it got views."

In the middle row, a journalist shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting around, looking every where behind her, she was suddenly unsure if recording this felt right anymore.

Phoebe swallowed hard, her fingers digging tighter into the spine of her book. Megan, beside her, blinked fast, her mouth parted with something close to guilt.

There were no flashes now. Only the low static of the live broadcast and the occasional click of someone swallowing hard.

"You’ve taken rumors from college students and spun it into fact. You’ve made accusations without a shred of evidence. And that’s not reporting. That’s defamation."

Adriana stood just outside the side doors of the auditorium, far away from the chaos but just enough for her to see. Her jaw was clenched, arms folded tightly over her chest.

She looked like someone who had expected Craig to defend himself, but not like this. Not standing in front of the press with steady eyes and a voice sharper than steel, dismantling the entire narrative piece by piece.

She couldn’t believe it. That he was actually doing this. Publicly and unapologetically. Speaking like a man who had nothing to lose.

Craig straightened then, sharp as a blade.

"Let me be clear. The rumors about my brother having an affair with a professor?"

His gaze locked on the front row. A few reporters actually flinched.

"False. There was no affair. The video that’s circulating online was manipulated, cut together to tell a story that never happened. Anyone with half a brain could’ve tried to verify, but you didn’t because scandal sells better than the truth. And that’s what you were hungry for."

A ripple of discomfort swept across the crowd. Then he paused, a slow, almost imperceptible inhale.

The words were a lie, but the conviction in his voice almost made it real. Not a soul could tell. His delivery was smooth, every word carved with intention. Calm, confident, and utterly controlled. He didn’t blink, didn’t fumble.

"As for me and Merlina Sanchez?" His voice softened, just slightly. He blinked once, longer than necessary. A private grief cracking through a public voice. "You’ve got that wrong, too."

There was a new tension in his stance now. Not anger. Something rawer. Protective. Honest.

"She didn’t chase me," he said. "I chased her. I went after her. I waited. I texted. I begged."

The words came slow. Deliberate. Like confessions torn from the bone.

A gasp rippled through the crowd, sharp, collective, almost disbelieving. Students turned toward one another, wide-eyed and stunned, as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

Craig Lesnar, the campus golden boy had just admitted he begged.

One girl clutched her friend’s arm, mouth agape. A pair of others whispered behind cupped hands.

Phoebe and Megan stood frozen, too stunned to speak, they exchanged a look, eyes glossy, breath caught, neither of them prepared to hear what Craig had just said.

"And for weeks, I got nothing. She didn’t want to be with me. I respected that. Until I couldn’t anymore." Craig continued.

The gasps came out louder now, less restrained, some sharp with disbelief, others soft and drawn out, full of swooning awe.

A few girls covered their mouths, eyes wide, looking at Craig like he’d stepped out of a romance novel.

Craig reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone. He held it up, not to the cameras, but to the crowd itself. A quiet offering.

"You can have it. I’ll show you the texts. The missed calls. Every message I sent. Every time she said no. If anyone was relentless, it was me."

His eyes flicked upward, not daring to say her name again. But his gaze softened, like the only person he wanted to believe him wasn’t even in the room.

"She didn’t manipulate me. She tried to stay away from me. And I’m the one who refused to let go."

In the crowd, a young journalism major lowered her head and whispered to the person beside her, "He’s in love with her."

They nodded. No denial. You could hear it in every syllable.

Adriana’s jaw tightened, lips pressed into a hard line. She bit down on her bottom lip, too hard, too long and finally turned on her heel. The loud tap of her heels faded as she walked away.

Then Craig leaned forward slightly. The intensity in his posture shifted, less heartbroken now. More lethal.

"Now that I’ve cleared the air, if there’s any more false claim, one more edited clip, one more vile post targeting her, I will act." he said, each word like a nail in a coffin.

He let the silence stretch like a blade.

"I have the legal resources to identify any anonymous user, anyone hiding behind a screen, because the next time you speak her name or mine, you better have evidence to back it up."

He didn’t take questions, didn’t look back.

He just walked away, steady as steel, jaw set, eyes ahead.

And though no one could say for sure where he was heading to, those who knew, those who truly watched, could tell that every word, every threat, every breath was for one person only.

Merlina Sanchez.

Outside, the cold air bit sharper than before. Craig didn’t slow his pace as he crossed the stone steps, the echo of his shoes crisp against the concrete.

His shoulders were tight, but his face was bare, like the speech was over, but the weight of it still lingered.

He hadn’t planned on running into her. But there she was, Adriana.

Leaning against her car in the almost-empty parking lot, arms folded, keys clenched between her fingers like a weapon she wouldn’t use.

She didn’t look surprised to see him. Just tired. Tense jaw. Mouth pressed shut.

Craig stopped a few feet from her. He didn’t raise his voice. "I know what you did," he said, quiet but certain. "I know you leaked the footage. I know you brought the press over, fed them lies."

Adriana didn’t react, she just met his gaze with something flickering behind her eyes, regret, maybe, pride refusing to bend.

He nodded slowly, like he wasn’t going to make her say it. He already knew. He’d heard enough.

He’d been warned, rumors that Adriana was asking questions, digging for dirt. He just hadn’t thought she’d take it this far.

"For the sake of what we had," he said, voice low, steady, "I’m letting this go."

Adriana’s eyes dropped to the keys in her hand. She twisted them once, like she was biting back a thousand things she didn’t trust herself to say.

"Just don’t do it again," Craig added. Just a notch colder. "Whatever pain I caused you, it doesn’t justify that."

Adriana she looked at him, a slow, scathing glance, like whatever was coming out of his mouth was dirt.

"I’m sorry it ended the way it did," Craig added, softer now. "But I won’t let you hurt her again."

"Fuck off," Adriana couldn’t bring herself to say anything else. She was staring at someone she still cared about, against her will.

She was watching the one person who once chose her now protect someone else. And his words scraped over a wound she hadn’t given herself permission to feel yet.

Without a word, she just pulled open her car door, got in and drove off without looking back.

Craig stood there for a moment, staring after the taillights fading into the distance. His jaw clenched. Then he turned, stepped off the curb, and pulled out his phone again. There was only one person he wanted to see.

Merlina.

But first, there was one more thing he needed to do.