News vans lined the street outside Blackwood Arena, reporters stamping their feet against the cold as they waited for the joint press conference to begin. Inside the media room, staff arranged chairs and tested microphones while PR representatives distributed press packets.
Emma and Nathan watched from a side entrance, unnoticed by the gathering crowd.
"You sure about this?" Nathan asked quietly. The bruises on his face had faded slightly, but he still looked battered.
Emma squeezed his hand. "No, but I'm sure about us."
They'd driven back to the city early that morning, preparing their own strategy during the journey. Their plan was risky—confronting both patriarchs publicly rather than privately—but it eliminated the advantage Harold and Frederick thought they had.
"Your brother's l
