Chapter Six: Exposed
1048 Words
Last night, he kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered.
This morning, the whole city knew.
The morning started like any other. Elena woke up tangled in the sheets, still in her oversized T-shirt. She reached for her phone out of habit. 98 new notifications. Her stomach dropped. She tapped the first one. It was from Mia:
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?? 😳 Check New York Social!!”
Confused, Elena opened the link. And there it was.
“COLD-BLOODED BILLIONAIRE MELTS FOR MYSTERY WOMAN — WHO IS DAMIEN BLACKWELL’S SECRET KISS?”
Below the headline: a crystal-clear photo of Damien. Leaning over her. Kissing her outside her apartment. It wasn’t blurry. It wasn’t stolen in a rush. It was perfectly lit, perfectly framed like someone had waited for it. Elena’s blood ran cold. She scrolled down.
"Last night, the elusive CEO of Blackwell Enterprises was seen kissing an unidentified brunette outside a Manhattan apartment. Sources say she’s an employee. Others whisper she’s his assistant. Is Damien Blackwell finally breaking more than business records?”
There were more photos. More angles.
More speculation. And then... her phone rang.
Damien. She froze. Let it ring. Picked up on the final buzz. His voice was tight, controlled but barely. “Come to the office. Now.”
The elevator ride up the executive floor felt like a funeral procession. When the doors opened, silence fell. Eyes flicked up. Conversations paused. Even keyboards stopped clicking. She walked forward, chin high, every step echoing like a drumbeat.
Thirty seconds later, Damien entered. He didn’t speak to anyone. Just walked straight to her desk. His voice was like ice. “My office. Now.” She followed. Once the door shut behind them, he turned. “I’m going to find out who leaked those photos,” he said. “And when I do, they’ll wish they never crossed me.”
“They already did,” Elena replied. “And they used me to do it.”
His fists clenched. “This is my fault. I kissed you. I’ll fix it.” Her voice softened.
“Do you regret it?”
He paused. His expression was unreadable. “You may go back now,” he said coolly.
Elena stared at him, something breaking quietly inside. “I’ll be behind my desk if you need me, sir.” She left without another word.
The next 48 hours were hell. Paparazzi staked out her building. Reporters shouted questions whenever she left her apartment. Online tabloids dragged her name through the digital dirt.
“Did you sleep your way into the job?”
“Is he buying you a penthouse?”
“Pregnant? Sources say she’s been seen at a clinic downtown.”
She hadn’t slept. She hadn’t eaten. And Damien? He’d gone silent. No calls. No messages. Just... silence. Until Monday morning. She stepped off the elevator, expecting more stares she got a summons.
“Miss Hart,” Damien’s secretary whispered nervously. “The boardroom. Now."
Her blood turned to ice. The boardroom was packed. Ten board members. Corporate lawyers. Two PR directors. And at the head of the table Charles Blackwell. Damien’s grandfather. The founder. The man known only in hushed tones by employees as “The Iron Spine.”
His stare could shrink empires. His silence could fire executives. He didn’t speak often, but when he did, people obeyed. Damien sat to his right, sharp in a charcoal suit, calm as a gun before it fires.
“Elena,” he said, not even glancing at her. “Sit.”
She obeyed, her hands trembling slightly as she smoothed her skirt. A gray-haired board member leaned forward.
“Mr. Blackwell, we cannot operate under this kind of public scrutiny. The headlines are damaging shareholder trust.”
“She’s a distraction,” someone else muttered.
“She’s a scandal.”
“We recommend termination,” said a woman from Legal. “Effective immediately.” Elena stood, heart pounding.
“None of this is my fault. I didn’t leak those pictures, and I didn’t ask for this attention....”
“Silence.” The chairman’s voice cracked like a thunderclap. All eyes snapped to him. Elena sat down slowly, cheeks flaming. Charles Blackwell’s gaze settled on Damien. A subtle nod and a piercing look from the chairman said everything Damien needed to hear. And then Damien stood. The room quieted like prey sensing a predator rise. He didn’t rush. He walked slowly around the table to Elena’s chair. Paused behind her.
“She’s not just my assistant,” Damien said, voice firm.
“She’s my fiancée.”
Boom.
The boardroom exploded. “What did he say?!” “Are you out of your mind?” “Legal didn’t approve this.....” “Is this a publicity stunt?!”
Elena sat frozen, stunned. Fiancée? She turned to him, lips parting but Damien kept talking like he hadn’t just turned her entire life upside down. “We’ve been engaged for months. We chose to keep it private. But now that it’s public, we will face it as a couple.”
Back in his office, Elena finally exploded. “You told the board I was your fiancée?! Are you insane?!” He shut the door behind them with a click. “It was the only way to shut them up. You were their scapegoat. This stops it.”
“You didn’t even ask me!”
“If I had, you would’ve said no.”
“Of course I would’ve said no! Because I’m not your ....”
He took a step closer. “You are now.”
She stilled. Her voice dropped. “And when the world finds out it’s a lie?”
Damien’s voice was like velvet-covered steel.
“It won’t be. Not entirely.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said slowly, “if we’re going to play this game, then we play it well. You move in with me. You wear the ring. You smile for the cameras.”
“And after?”
“We end it. Quietly. I take the fall. You walk away with your name intact.”
She stared at him. “And until then?”
Damien leaned in. His voice dropped low. “You get me.”
- Writer
