Chapter 11: Damage Control
1419 Words
Elena’s POV
She repeated the question again.
“Is it true your affair with Freya Marks led to her death?”
Cameras stopped flashing as everyone went silent even the mics froze mid-air.
Adrian didn’t move. He just looked at the reporter like he was debating whether to sue her or burn her career to the ground.
Then, slowly, he smiled which was somehow worse.
“I don’t answer questions based on gossip,” he said, voice calm but laced with something that sounded like anger
The woman pushed, “But her husband is filing…. ”
“I said,” he cut in, sharper this time, “no comment.”
Reporters started shouting over one another.
“Did she die because of you?”
“Was it an affair?”
“Who’s the girl with you now?”
“Is she the replacement?”
I wanted to crawl under the table and evaporate.
Security tried to push the media back, but the noise kept rising as the media became rowdy. A camera man climbed on a chair just to scream “Murder cover-up!”
Adrian’s jaw clenched. I could see he was on the verge of exploding.
Then, of course, Commissioner Hale showed up again, smug as ever.
“Quite a crowd you’ve got, Blackthorne,” he said loud enough for the mics to catch. “Maybe you should tell them the truth before they dig it up themselves.”
Adrian turned to him, expression unreadable. “The truth?”
“Yes,” Hale said, smirking. “That Freya Marks didn’t just die… you were the last person she visited before the balcony incident.”
Gasps rippled.
I swear my stomach dropped into my heels.
Adrian’s tone didn’t change. “And here I thought journalists were supposed to confirm facts before opening their mouths.”
“You’re not denying it?” Hale pressed.
Adrian stepped closer. “I don’t deny things to people beneath my pay grade.”
And that’s when Adrian grabbed the mic.
He turned to the cameras, eyes hard. “Everyone shut up.”
Somehow, everyone did.
“My personal life isn’t a courtroom,” he said. “Freya Marks was a colleague and a friend. Her death is a tragedy, not a headline for you hungry reporters. Anyone implying otherwise will hear from my lawyers by noon.”
He let that sink in, then his voice dropped lower. “And for the record, my fiancée and I had nothing to do with any of it.”
He placed a deliberate hand on my waist.
As he turned my face to his suddenly kissing me.
Reporters started chanting again. “So the engagement is real?”
“Is this to cover the scandal?”
“When’s the wedding?”
Adrian exhaled like he’d just had enough of humanity. “This conference is over.”
He turned to leave….and then Hale called after him, voice dripping smug.
“So you’re running away again, Blackthorne? That’s what you’re good at, right? Hiding behind money and women?”
Adrian stopped mid-stride.
For a split second, I thought he might actually hit the guy and make things worse.
Then he turned back, deadly calm. “You want a story, Hale?” he said, loud enough for every mic. “Fine. Here’s one you can choke on.”
He faced the crowd.
“My wedding isn’t a rumor,” he said clearly. “It’s happening…. tomorrow.”
Someone dropped a mic. A reporter whispered, “Tomorrow?”
Adrian nodded once. “Tomorrow. Eleven A.M. St. Regis. Invitations will go out within the hour. My fiancée and I are done hiding and there will be no media at my wedding….Thank you”
He looked straight into the cameras as he said fiancée, like he wanted the world to see the woman standing next to him and realize no scandal could touch him.
And me? I was standing there smiling like a malfunctioning robot, still trying to process what had just happened. I thought this was a secret pretense gig…Now there was a wedding?
Tomorrow?
As in the next day?.
As in less than twenty-four hours?.
Reporters lost their minds. “You’re marrying her tomorrow?”
“How long have you known each other?”
“Is this for PR?”
“Does your fiancée know about Freya?”
That last one made my throat close.
Adrian’s arm tightened around my waist. “This press conference is done,” he repeated, eyes hard. “If anyone here mentions Freya Marks again, make sure your lawyer can afford the settlement…because I will be suing”
He turned, guiding me offstage. The crowd surged forward still trying to get statements from him.
By the time we made it through the hallway, my legs were shaking so bad I thought I might break an ankle – emotionally and physically.
In the elevator, I finally spoke. “Tomorrow? As in actual tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Like tomorrow tomorrow?”
He glanced down, expression unreadable. “Would you prefer next week?”
I threw my hands up. “How about never?”
He didn’t even blink. “Too late. The press will expect proof by morning. We make it official, we control the story.”
I gaped. “Control the story?. Why are so obsessed with control”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Then I guess I’ll handle it.”
The elevator dinged.
We stepped out into the marble hallway, still surrounded by security and chaos.
Miles walked up with a tablet. “The media’s already running the headline: Blackthorne to marry mystery fiancée tomorrow.”
Adrian nodded. “Good. Let them.”
I blinked. “Good? They think I’m the next Freya!”
“Then make sure you outlive her,” he said flatly.
I stared at him, trying not to scream. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m efficient.”
“Efficiently insane!”
He opened the door to his office. “You’ll get used to it.”
Inside, The assistant was waiting.
Of course she was. I had seen the way her eyes lingered over his body…..I knew they had chemistry.
“So it’s true,” she said coolly. “You’re really marrying her.”
Adrian ignored her completely, walking straight to his desk. “Draft the marriage announcement. I want the press release live in ten.”
She folded her arms, glaring at me. “You must be proud. From breaking into his office to becoming Mrs. Blackthorne in a day.”
I smiled sweetly. “Yeah, it’s my new workout plan…..climb the social ladder.”
Her smile tightened. “Careful, sweetheart. He gets bored fast.”
Adrian’s voice sliced through the air. “Serena.”
She straightened instantly.
He didn’t even look up. “Leave.”
For a second, she didn’t move. Her eyes lingered on him in a hot stare….I wasn't dumb enough to not realize that he had probably slept with her. Then she grabbed her tablet, shot me one last death glare, and walked out.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Adrian finally looked at me. “You’ll have to stay here tonight. Tailors will arrive in an hour.”
I blinked. “So we’re really doing this? Like actual vows, rings?.... I thought we were playing pretend! ”
He leaned back in his chair. “You wanted a job, didn’t you? Congratulations.”
I laughed nervously. “You’re joking.”
He wasn’t.
I could tell by the way his eyes pinned mine….sharp, unblinking.
“Tomorrow,” he said again, softer this time. “You walk down that aisle, smile for the cameras, and play your part.”
“And if I don’t?” I asked.
He smiled slow, dangerous as his face closed up on mine. “Then the world finds out exactly who you used to be, Elena Reed and I'll make sure I destroy your life and everything you hold dear!”
My heart dropped. “You wouldn’t.” I whispered
“I would.” I could feel his warm breath on my face now.
Before I could even respond, Miles knocked and poked his head in. “Sir, the media’s waiting for a follow-up statement. They want confirmation of the location.”
Adrian stood, buttoning his jacket. “Give it to them.”
He started walking past me, but paused by the door.
“Try to get some rest,” he said without turning around. “Tomorrow is going to be hectic.”
- Writer
