The Womanizer's Mute Wife Chapter 108: The Press Conference

GENESIS

"It’s going to be fine, princess. It’s ti the world knew who you really are," Kieran said with a smile, his large hand squeezing my thigh. I smiled back at him, even though nerves twisted inside . I kept biting my bottom lip, staring out the window while he gently stroked the skin on my neck, his finger brushing the collar fastened there.

Kieran had told it was ti to take back what was mine, my father’s company. Ti to silence the rumors that I’d been given to him in marriage when I was little, after my dad died. Ti to show them that I was Genesis Esther Caldwell.

I was scared. Scared the world would want answers about what happened to —where I really was all those years. But Kieran said we’d play into my stepmother’s lie, the one she told everyone: that I’d been sent abroad to study.

So now, here we were.

Heading to—honestly, I didn’t even know. He’d said we were going to a press conference. I had no idea what that ant, so he explained it in the car using simple words. A press conference was where people asked questions and reporters took pictures. But I didn’t have to say anything. Not a word. He would talk. All I had to do was stand beside him. Look soft. Quiet. Like soone who’d been gone a long ti.

When he finished explaining, I nodded, even though my fingers were shaking in my lap. I wanted to be brave. I wanted to do this right—for him, but also for . For my father. For everything they took from .

The car slowed.

Kieran sat up straighter, buttoning his suit jacket, adjusting the dark cuffs like he was preparing for battle. I copied him, straightening my shoulders even though my chest was tight. Then he turned to and brushed his thumb over my cheek.

"You’re beautiful," he whispered. "And they’ll see that. But what they won’t see—what they’ll never guess—is what’s really inside you. That’s our secret, right?"

I nodded.

Our secret.

That I wasn’t as soft as I looked. Not anymore. I was learning.

That behind this innocent face was a girl who rembered everything—the cold floor, the bruises, the assault. The way they locked the door and threw away the key. The sound of my stepmother laughing downstairs while I scread and no one ca.

The car door opened.

Kieran stepped out first, tall and sure of himself.

The caras exploded with light.

I froze.

Then his hand reached back for —warm, steady, grounding.

I took it.

I stepped out.

The lights were brighter than I imagined. The sounds louder. Reporters shouted, pushing against security. One of them called my na.

"Genesis Caldwell!"

I blinked, unsure if I should respond. Kieran gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"It’s okay," he murmured. "Just look at ."

So I did. I kept my eyes on him, and nodded when he said my na again.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and led toward the stage where microphones waited. Everything felt like a dream. A loud, glittering, hot dream.

I stood beside him as he faced the press.

"Thank you all for coming," Kieran began, his voice calm and proud. "I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Genesis Esther Caldwell Blackwood—the true heir to Caldwell Industries."

Gasps.

Cara flashes.

Whispers.

Soone asked, "Why hasn’t she ever been seen before?"

Another voice shouted, "Is it true she was given to you in an arranged marriage?"

My chest tightened. Kieran glanced at , then back at the crowd.

"Genesis was sent abroad to study shortly after her father’s passing. The press was... misinford, thanks to certain family mbers who no longer have a say in this company. But she’s back now. And she’s ready to step into her rightful place."

I looked at him again.

He gave the smallest nod.

So I smiled. Just a little.

Let them see what they wanted to see.

The quiet girl.

The obedient wife.

Let them believe whatever lies made them comfortable.

Because one day, I would tell the truth.

But not today.

Today, I stood beside my husband—a pretty picture in a tight dress and a leather collar, stitched with the words property of Knight.

They thought I’d remain soft, pliant, bendable forever.

But I was unbending.

And it was all thanks to the man beside .

I turned to Kieran, biting down hard on my bottom lip. He turned to too, his eyes flicking to my lips, and my cheeks ward.

But then—

A woman’s voice sliced through the crowd.

"Mrs. Caldwell Blackwood," she called clearly. Every cara turned toward her. "With all due respect, the world has waited years for your voice. There’s been endless speculation about your disappearance, your marriage, and now your return. So why haven’t we heard from you directly? Why the silence? Is there sothing you’re not telling us?"

Her words landed like a slap.

The clicks of the caras slowed, then stopped.

The air shifted.

The crowd fell silent, like the volu of the world had been turned down to hear the sound I wasn’t making.

My throat closed.

Just like that.

The pressure in my chest rose—hot, tight, aching. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. My lungs forgot how to breathe. I tried to blink, to nod, to do sothing.

But everything inside froze.

Kieran felt it instantly.

His hand at my back pressed firr. His other hand moved to hold my arm—gently, but grounding .

I could feel it happening—the panic.

The kind that starts in your belly and climbs fast. The kind that makes the lights too bright, the noise too sharp. My fingers curled, nails digging into my palms.

I wanted to run.

I wanted to vanish.

But I just stood there, frozen.

I didn’t cry.

I didn’t scream.

I couldn’t.

The woman’s question still lingered in the air, unanswered. All eyes on .

Then Kieran stepped forward, shielding slightly with his large body, voice calm but cold enough to freeze the air.

"My wife does not owe this world a sound," he said, sharp and low. "Not today. Not ever, unless she chooses. I suggest we show so respect for that."

The female reporter lowered her mic, her face going blank.

Kieran turned slightly, leaning toward , whispering low into my ear, "You’re safe. I’ve got you. Just breathe for , princess."

I nodded once.

Tight.

Barely.

But enough.

He kept his arm around , shielding the shaking in my legs with his body. I stared ahead, past the reporters, past the caras, into nothing.

I could still feel the question echoing in my head. Why the silence? Why the silence? Why the silence?

Because if I opened my mouth...

I might never stop screaming.