💫 Chapter Nine: Shattered Reflections
1425 Words
AVA
The headlines hit like a slap.
> BLACKWOOD’S MYSTERY MISTRESS — SCANDAL BEHIND THE SUIT
Ava Carter: Intern or Insider?
One Night Stand or Office Romance?
The photos were brutal.
Me. Damien. The gala. The dance. The way his hand gripped my waist. The way I looked up at him like he’d hung the stars.
Every angle screamed intimacy, even if nothing had technically happened—yet.
By the time I made it into the office Monday morning, the air was thick with whispers. Stares clung to me like burrs. No one said anything out loud. They didn’t have to.
The damage had been done.
And the worst part?
I had no idea who leaked them.
I shut my office door with shaking hands, my chest tight. Damien hadn’t called. Hadn’t messaged. Nothing. I didn’t know if he was angry, trying to fix it, or—God forbid—blaming me.
I didn’t get the chance to spiral further.
Because the door burst open.
He stood there in a black suit, storm in his eyes.
“Pack your things,” Damien said flatly.
My heart sank. “You’re firing me?”
He blinked. “What? No.”
“Then why—?”
“We’re not staying here.”
He crossed the room, grabbed my coat, and shoved it toward me.
“We’re going to my penthouse.”
“I—I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said, backing away. “This is bad enough already.”
“Which is exactly why you’re coming with me. You’re not facing this storm alone.”
His voice had that edge again—protective, demanding, impossible to argue with.
Still, I hesitated. “Damien, this isn’t just about you and me. People think I slept my way into this job. I can’t—”
“You didn’t,” he snapped. “And anyone who says otherwise will be dealt with.”
“You can’t just fix this with power and threats.”
“Watch me.”
That should have scared me. It should’ve been a red flag—another reason to run.
But all I felt was… relief. Someone was standing beside me. Or maybe in front of me, shielding me from a world that never played fair.
So I nodded.
And went with him.
---
The Penthouse.
It was modern, minimal, expensive—every corner cold steel and glass, except for the wall-to-wall windows overlooking the skyline.
I stood awkwardly near the edge of the living room while Damien poured two drinks. He handed me a glass of water instead of whiskey, and for once, I appreciated the gesture.
“I’ve already called legal,” he said. “We’re issuing takedown requests and investigating the leak. My PR team is preparing a response. You’ll be cleared by the end of the week.”
I stared at him. “Just like that?”
“No,” he admitted. “Not just like that. But it’ll be handled. I won’t let them ruin you.”
Something in his voice softened. And that softness hurt more than anything.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
Damien looked at me like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Because I care.”
I blinked. “You said you don’t do feelings.”
“I said I’m not good at them. Not that I don’t have them.”
My breath caught.
“You said we were a mistake.”
“I lied.”
Silence stretched between us again—heavy, electric.
I moved toward the window, needing space, air, anything. “What if this doesn’t blow over, Damien? What if I’m branded the homewrecker? The gold-digger? The woman who used s*x to climb?”
“Then let them talk,” he said, coming up behind me. “We’ll drown them out.”
His hands found my shoulders, warm and steady.
“I know you,” he whispered. “I know who you are. That’s the only truth that matters.”
I turned to face him—and the moment cracked open between us.
He didn’t touch me again.
He just waited.
And I fell.
---
Later
I don’t remember who kissed who first.
It was all tangled limbs and impatient mouths. Clothes hit the floor like they were guilty. His hands memorized me again—slower this time, reverent.
And when he sank into me, I wasn’t ashamed.
I was home.
This wasn’t like the first time—hurried, anonymous, fueled by desperation. This was deliberate. Desperate in a different way.
Like we knew this might be the only time the world wouldn’t break us.
He whispered my name like a prayer.
And when I shattered around him, I believed—just for a second—that we could survive this.
---
DAMIEN
She slept curled against my chest, and for the first time in years, I didn’t feel empty.
But peace didn’t last.
Because I had enemies. People who wanted to see me fall.
And someone—someone close—had tried to use Ava to do it.
I scrolled through the email trail again, eyes narrowing.
The photos had been captured by a private photographer hired by the gala committee… someone with exclusive access.
Which meant this wasn’t a random scandal.
It was personal.
And I could think of one person with motive.
Celine.
---
AVA
The next morning, Damien was gone when I woke up. A note sat on the kitchen counter.
> Handle things at the office. Stay here.
Don’t answer any unknown calls. I’ll be back.
I stared at it, heart pounding.
I should’ve been grateful. I should’ve taken the quiet, sipped the coffee he’d left me, and hidden from the world.
But I couldn’t.
Because my phone was already buzzing with another call from my mother. Another missed message from a friend. Another headline pinging my alerts.
I opened the latest article.
> Sources claim Ava Carter had a relationship with Damien Blackwood prior to employment.
Conflict of interest? Bribery? Nepotism?
Insiders allege this isn’t the first time Blackwood has mixed business with pleasure…
My stomach dropped.
How much worse could this get?
---
CELINE
She sipped her champagne in her high-rise condo, legs crossed, watching the chaos unfold on her screen.
“Oh, poor Ava,” she purred. “Didn’t think you could just waltz into Blackwood and steal the spotlight.”
Celine had always known how to weaponize timing.
She hadn’t leaked the photos herself, of course. That would be too obvious. But a few whispers, a favor from a journalist she’d once slept with, and a conveniently misplaced USB drive?
Done.
And now Damien would see the truth.
That Ava was a liability.
That she didn’t belong in his world.
That only Celine did.
She smiled and poured another drink.
---
DAMIEN
I confronted Celine that afternoon.
She didn’t deny it.
“You’ve always underestimated me,” she said, flipping her hair like it didn’t matter. “I told you she wasn’t right for this company.”
“You mean, not right for me.”
“Exactly. She’s weak, Damien. Emotional. You’ll destroy her—and yourself.”
My jaw clenched. “You’re fired.”
She laughed. “You can’t fire me. I know too much.”
“I don’t care.”
“Oh, you will. Because you think the scandal’s bad now? Wait until the real skeletons come out.”
I leaned in close. “You hurt her again, I’ll burn everything down. And I’ll make sure you’re the first to turn to ash.”
She flinched.
But I saw it—the flicker of doubt.
The one thing Celine hated more than being wrong was being irrelevant.
---
AVA
When Damien returned that night, he looked tired. Angrier than I’d ever seen him.
He didn’t speak at first. Just took me into his arms and held me like something fragile.
I asked the question I’d been dreading.
“Are you going to fire me?”
He pulled back, eyes stormy. “Never.”
“But the board—”
“They can eat glass.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
But it faded quickly.
“I don’t want to be your weakness,” I said quietly.
“You’re not,” he whispered. “You’re my reason.”
Those words stayed with me long after we fell asleep.
But the headlines didn’t stop.
The world had its claws in us now.
And secrets we hadn’t even touched were about to rise from the shadows.
---
- Writer
