Page 111 of One Nightstand With My Ex's Uncle

LUCAS’ POV.

As my eyes threatened to turn everywhere into black, I felt a hand press my shoulder lightly. It was Tray, and he handed me a bottle of water, which I drank.

It made me feel better. The people’s faces focused back into view, and I could see the desperation for answers on each of their faces.

“Only when you’re done speaking, will you hear from me.” I said, and they began to caution each other.

The few that had gotten to their feet went back to their seats, and it was only when they had stopped talking that I addressed them.

“As you all know, I am Lucas Granger, and I am here today on the issue of my nephew, Derel, who has been a victim of rumors and fake pictures.”

“Fake pictures?” A woman asked.

“Yes, those pictures are not real. They are photo shopped.” I replied, and none of them seemed satisfied.

“We already received word that you’ll try to say this. Is this really the only explanation you can offer?” A man questioned.

“It was photo shopped, and we will uncover who did it, and present the person to you. In the meantime, stop spreading the fake news, or I will sue you all.” I said, and a woman snorted.

“If you have nothing to hide, then you wouldn’t go on threatening reporters.”

“Who said that?” I asked, looking at the heads of the numerous reporters. They looked around, but none answered me. “I called this conference to do two things: One; To clarify that the photo is not real,

Two; To warn whoever did this that they will pay heavily for it if they do not take down the fake post, and right things.”

“Are you and Emily Waston having an affair? The pictures the other day…”

“Is this another huge Granger cover-up? Why aren’t John Granger and Emily Waston getting married?”

“They dated since their college days, why are they yet to be married?”

“Do you have anything to do with it?”

“Is she in love with you?”

“Were you really friends with her before she and John Granger developed feelings for each other?”

“Is the family falling apart?”

“An affair, and leaked immoral photos that has offended the public, are these things real, and are you just trying to cover it up?”

“Why aren’t Emily Waston and John Granger getting married? Did something happen between them?”

The reporters deviated, and began to ask questions about other rumors that were completely unrelated to Derel’s case. They even brought up rumors from the past, which had never been confirmed. Since I had said what I wanted to say, I realized there was no use in listening to their crap.

“I will not answer any personal questions.” I said, getting to my feet.

“I have said all I arranged this conference for, and I hope my message is well-received. Have a nice day.” I said, walking out, and the camera flashes became wilder, just as their voices became louder, hoping I’d answer even a single question.

Later that evening, the family called another meeting, and they were quiet instead of loud and noisy as they had been the previous day.

“So, can you just explain? What was the point of the press conference? I believe it made matters worse.” Genevieve said, rubbing her temple, and refusing to look at me out of simmering rage.

“They had already guessed that we would say it’s a Photoshop…” Will began.

“It’s really a Photoshop!” Derel said, unable to keep himself still.

“How dare you talk back to him!?” Genevieve asked, directing her rage at him. “You disgraced the whole family! You did this! You! Find a way to solve it, or get lost somewhere! I don’t want to see your face.” She screamed at him, and Mira held her hand.

“Don’t say such mean things. He’s only a teenager. At that age, they are…”

“It’s not me in those photos.” Derel said, cutting Mira off.

“I’m already having a hard time as it is, but all you want to do is point fingers at me when I didn’t even do a thing.

Shouldn’t you be the ones fighting for me, and telling me things would be fine?

You only care about all the influence and power you struggle to keep.

Why are you telling me to end a fight I didn’t start?

” He asked, with his voice cracking a little at the end of his words.

“You’re right. I care about all the influence and power we hold because it is very dear to our ancestors who have passed on. They expect us to keep it, and…” Genevieve began.

“You’re not going to be at the top forever, you know that? Someday, you’ll plunge rock bottom.” Derel said, and walked away.

“Derel!” Genevieve screamed, getting to her feet, but Will held her back.

“What are you going to do about this!?” She turned her rage on me, hitting me hard with a cushion. “Why do a press conference!? Why!?”

After the meeting, I left Raymond’s mansion, and went out for some air. It wasn’t snowing, but the air was freezing.

Just then, I saw Derella running to me.

“Careful.” I called out to her.

“I can’t find Derel.” She said, breathlessly.

“What?”

“He’s not in his room, or in any of the mansions. I called his friends, but they haven’t talked for days. I ran to all his favorite places, but they haven’t seen him. What did mom say to him?” She asked, with her eyes gleaming with tears.

“He’s not at the field either.” Sadie said, running towards us with Judy.

“I’ll try to find him.” I said, leaving them. Tracking his scent was really hard because of all the cold air entering my nostrils, and the sound of dinner cooking. It was hard to locate him.

But I was lucky.

I looked up, and happened to see him standing at the edge of my rooftop. Panic clawed my heart, and I ran in immediately, not wanting to leave anything to chance.

I dashed up the stairs, as quickly as I could, and kicked the door open.

He turned around, alarmed, and threw something down the building.

“Derel.” I called, going towards him, but he turned away.

I walked to him, but he didn’t make any move to jump off.

“I was scared. I thought you were going to do something to yourself.” I said, but he didn’t reply. He simply shook his head.

“Isn’t it cold? Are you fine?” I asked, and he nodded.

Why wasn’t he talking?

I looked down, trying to find what he threw, and there it was in the pool. A small white thing, floating.

“Spit it out.” I said, and he made attempts to swallow.

I immediately hit his back hard, and his mouth fell open, as the force hit him. Lots and lots of pills fell from his mouth.