Damage control
1041 Words
The first thing Cofie noticed was the way the noise disappeared.
Not completely — the reporters were still shouting, cameras still flashing, her name still being thrown around like it belonged to them — but the moment Mathias’ hand closed around her wrist, everything else seemed… distant.
Muted.
Like the world had stepped back to watch.
“Don’t speak,” he said quietly.
It wasn’t a suggestion.
It was an instruction.
Cofie didn’t have time to argue before he began guiding her — no, steering her — toward a side exit, his grip firm enough to be unmistakable but not painful. The reporters surged forward the second they realized what was happening.
“Mr. Chaw!”
“Who is she?”
“Are you two in a relationship?”
“Is this a publicity stunt?”
Camera flashes exploded in rapid succession, white light burning against her vision as she struggled to keep up with his long, purposeful strides.
Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, panic clawing its way up her throat.
Mathias didn’t slow down.
“You don’t have to,” he replied.
The doors swung open, and suddenly they were outside.
A sleek black car waited at the curb like it had been expecting them. The driver stepped out immediately, opening the back door without a word.
Mathias ushered her inside.
The moment the door shut behind them, the chaos vanished.
Silence filled the car, thick and suffocating.
Cofie stared straight ahead, her hands trembling in her lap as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in.
“They know my name,” she said.
It came out small.
Broken.
Mathias didn’t answer right away. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket instead, pulling out his phone with practiced calm.
“Yes,” he said finally. “They do.”
The car pulled away from the curb smoothly, leaving the frenzy behind.
“How?” she demanded, turning toward him. “How do they know my name? Who told them?”
Mathias glanced at her.
Something unreadable flickered behind his eyes.
“They didn’t need to be told.”
Her stomach twisted.
“You’re saying they just… found me?”
“I’m saying,” he replied evenly, “that once your face appeared next to mine, it was only a matter of time before someone started digging.”
Cofie’s breath hitched.
Her entire life — her job, her family, her friends — exposed because of one night she could barely remember.
“This can’t be happening,” she whispered.
But it was.
And the worst part?
It wasn’t over.
Her phone buzzed again in her lap.
And again.
And again.
Mathias’ gaze dropped to the device before returning to her face.
“You should turn that off.”
“I can’t,” she snapped. “What if it’s my mother? Or my boss? Or—”
“Or your ex?” he interrupted smoothly.
The words landed like a slap.
Cofie’s jaw tightened.
“I’m serious,” she said.
“So am I.”
There was no sympathy in his voice.
No softness.
Just logic.
Cold, practical logic.
“Right now, anything you say can be twisted,” he continued. “Anyone you speak to can leak information. Anyone you trust can sell your story.”
Her blood ran cold.
“You think someone would actually do that?”
Mathias held her gaze steadily.
“Yes.”
The certainty in his tone was terrifying.
“What am I supposed to do then?” she asked, her voice cracking despite her best efforts. “Hide?”
“If necessary.”
Cofie stared at him in disbelief.
“You can’t be serious.”
Mathias leaned back slightly, his expression composed in a way that made her feel even more unsteady.
“This isn’t about seriousness, Miss Thorne,” he said calmly. “It’s about damage control.”
She hated the way he said her name.
Like he owned it.
Like he owned her.
“I didn’t ask for this,” she shot back.
“No,” he agreed. “But you walked into it.”
The reminder stung.
Her chest tightened, anger flaring through the panic.
“I was drunk,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“And now you have to.”
The car fell silent again.
Outside, the city moved on as though nothing had changed.
But everything had.
“Where are we going?” she asked finally.
Mathias didn’t hesitate.
“My place.”
Her head snapped toward him.
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
Sharp.
He didn’t react.
“You’re not going back to your apartment,” he said simply.
“And why not?”
“Because there are already reporters outside it.”
Her stomach dropped.
“You’re lying.”
Mathias said nothing.
Instead, he turned his phone toward her.
The screen displayed a live news feed.
A familiar building.
Her building.
Cofie’s breath caught painfully in her throat as she watched the camera zoom in on the entrance — on the small crowd gathered outside it, microphones in hand, cameras poised like weapons.
Waiting.
For her.
“They won’t leave anytime soon,” Mathias said.
Panic clawed at her chest again.
“I… I can’t stay with you.”
A pause.
“And yet,” he replied, “you don’t have many other options.”
The implication hung heavy between them.
This wasn’t an offer.
It was a situation.
One she was trapped in.
Her phone buzzed again.
She didn’t look at it this time.
Instead, she turned it off.
Mathias watched the gesture with quiet approval.
“Good,” he said.
Cofie swallowed hard, staring out the window as the city blurred past in streaks of grey and gold.
This wasn’t how Valentine’s Day was supposed to end.
Or begin.
Her entire life had unraveled in less than twenty-four hours.
And somehow…
The man sitting beside her looked completely untouched by it.
Untouchable.
“Why are you helping me?” she asked softly.
Mathias didn’t answer right away.
When he finally did, his voice was almost thoughtful.
“I’m not.”
A chill ran down her spine.
- Writer
