Chapter six
1120 Words
Mila’s POV
I did not know how my feet left the stage, but I only remembered how bright the lights were switched off, and the air was very dense and difficult to breathe. There were heavy, clashing voices, dazed and startled, after me, like the clashing of two waves. I heard someone call me by name, but I did not know. The only thing I knew was that the video was on, and my entire world had just been uncovered before them all.
The backstage was dark, equipment and wires were there, and half-frozen paralyzed personnel. I leaned my body on the wall, my chest went up and down too rapidly, and my hands trembled. I heard myself ringing like I had been slapped.
That was not to occur, said a woman who was standing beside me.
Oh God, that was Ruben Vermeer, said another voice.
“And the girl–wasn’t that Mila?”
I shut my eyes, and I hoped to fade away. My name was weighty, and dangerous, a crime.
I sat down on the wall till I sat on the floor, bringing my knees together. I felt awkward and sore in my tight dress, with my skin showing too much. The video was private. It was quiet. It was not supposed to be seen by the Amsterdam elite but rather something that was done behind closed doors.
My eyes were burning with tears, but I did not want them to shed. Crying would not fix this. Sobbing would not prevent harm.
My phone vibrated. I had shuddered as though it were a burn.
Unknown Number: You believed that you belonged with him?
I looked at the screen, heart racing. I had no time to respond when a second message came.
Unknown Number: It is only the beginning.
My breath caught in my throat. I was aware of the identity of the person behind this even before being informed. The screen had gone up, and Victoria had been smiling as though she had won.
The curtain at the stage rustled, and then abruptly the footsteps rushed toward me. I glanced up in time to see Ruben go through backstage, with his jaw tight and his eyes black with rage.
Down on his knees, he said sharply, Mila. “Are you hurt?”
I could not say no, and shook my head. I had a tight throbbing in the throat that almost choked me.
“Hey,” I said, laying my hands on your shoulders. “Look at me.”
I looked up, and all other things lost their reality for a moment. The sound, the murmurs, the disturbance. I could only see him, between myself and the world as a wall.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t know… I swear I didn’t–”
“I know,” he interrupted firmly. “This is not on you.”
But everybody noticed it, I said and trembled. “They think–”
Whatever they think, I do not care, said Ruben, his tone becoming hard. “What matters is you.”
The voices were whispering nearer on the backstage. Security staff. Event organizers. People need answers.
Ruben rose and held his hand. “We’re leaving. Now.”
I hesitated a second and then took his hand. When our fingers clenched together, the warmth was spread, stable and reassuring. Instead, he drew me up and stood before me,blocking my body.
“Stay close,” he murmured.
I nodded, and my heart was beating for another reason.
We came out soon enough, and the sound went off.
Cameras were going off like nuts, and I was blinded by the rush of reporters who were charging forward with overlapping.
“Ruben, is this your assistant?”
“Is this an affair?”
“Did you have i*********e with her and was on the job?”
“Did you leak the video yourself, Mila?”
I made a gasp and gripped Ruben by the arm. My legs were as weak as they could be.
Ruben, growling with anger, whipped round and strode away. “Now.”
Security was quickly advancing, like a wall, but the inquiries were not halted.
“Is she using you?”
Is this the reason why files were corrupted at Titan Corp?
The last question made me freeze, and I was almost crawling with fear.
Ruben swivelled about and threw his body such that I was directly behind him. One of my arms was around my back, which gave me a grip.
“She comes under my protection,” he said coldly. “False accusations will not pass by the book.”
“Ruben–” a reporter tried again.
“This event is over,” Ruben said. “Move.”
He took me to the waiting car, hand in a firm and reassuring grip. I lowered myself, and my heart pounded as the flash went on.
The door of the car banged shut, and the noise was cut in half. I sighed a nervous sigh that was too long repressed.
My phone vibrated again.
This time it didn’t stop.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I looked down.
My stomach dropped.
Someone posted my address.
My real address.
One of the social networks published a screenshot, my name highlighted in red, and the comments flowed in at a rate much higher than I could handle.
She deserves it.
Let’s see how brave she is now.
Go teach her a lesson.
My hands shook wildly.
“Mila?” Ruben asked, turning to me.
I was slowly holding the phone in my hand, my vision being blurred with tears. “They… they posted where I live.”
The car fell silent.
The look on Ruben changed immediately. Anger was gone, and in its place was something much more dangerous.
They were across a line, he said to himself.
“What am I supposed to do?” I whispered. “I don’t feel safe.”
He took my hand again and squeezed it with great force. “You’re not going home.”
I looked at him in shock. “What?”
“You with me,” he said without any hesitation. Tonight, and for as many years as it will.
The car started moving, pulling away from the flashing lights and the screaming crowd.
I stared at my phone again, my chest tight with fear.
Outside, the city lights blurred past the window, and I realisedsomething terrifying.
This was no longer just a scandal.
This was a war.
And I was standing right in the middle of it.
As my phone buzzed again, a new message appeared on the screen—
We’re already on our way to your place.
- Writer
