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Even the reporters stop interrupting.
Spencer studies me for a long beat before his expression smooths into another false smile. “I still think you’ll come around.”
Movement near the entrance catches my eye before I answer.
The revolving doors open again, and several members of Wolf Shield security step outside in a clean line that parts the crowd without anyone needing to ask. Bane walks with them, his attention fixed entirely on me despite the television crews swinging their cameras in his direction.
He reaches me without hurrying, his eyes moving over my face as though checking for injuries instead of headlines.
“Emma.”
I nod before he can ask. “I’m okay.”
He watches me for another second, deciding whether he believes that answer, then shifts to my side until he’s standing between Spencer and me.
Spencer snarls. “So that’s what this is.”
I almost pity him.
He still thinks this is about another man.
Bane finally looks at him. “She answered you.”
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“You’ve had plenty of chances to listen to her.”
Spencer’s jaw tightens, but before he can reply, one of the security officers steps forward.
“Ms. Love, we’re ready whenever you are.”
Bane leaves the decision with me. “You want to go inside?”
I glance at Spencer one last time. “I’ve got nothing else to say.”
Bane inclines his head, and we head toward the building together through a barrage of questions from every direction. Neither of us answers.
The revolving doors close behind us, shutting out the shouting and camera flashes, and only when we reach the lobby do I realize I’ve been clutching the bouquet so tightly the paper wrapping has creased beneath my fingers.
Bane notices before I can say a word. He takes it from my hand, carries it to the nearest trash can, and drops it inside before returning to me with a glance toward the flowers.
“More flowers?” he asks, his jaw tightening as he searches my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
He holds my gaze another beat, deciding whether to accept that answer, before my phone starts buzzing in my hand. The notifications keep coming, and by the time I unlock the screen, Lena has already filled it with messages.
Lena: Are you okay?
Lena: DON’T OPEN SOCIAL MEDIA.
Lena: Actually… maybe you should see it.
Bane catches the screen and exhales. “I’d leave that alone.”
“I should.”
I ignore my own advice and open the first alert. A photograph of Spencer standing outside Wolf Shield with the bouquet fills the screen beneath the headline:
