The Media Frenzy
1081 Words
The morning after their deal, Valentina woke up feeling... conflicted.
On the one hand, she couldn’t stop replaying Damien’s words in her mind. “No strings. Just us.” It sounded easy, like something she could handle. But deep down, she wasn’t sure anything about Damien would ever be easy.
On the other hand, her phone hadn’t stopped buzzing since sunrise.
When she finally grabbed it, she saw at least twenty messages from Mia.
Mia: OMG.
Mia: Check the news.
Mia: Girl, why didn’t you TELL ME?
“What is she talking about?” Valentina muttered, opening her social media apps.
It didn’t take long to find out.
There were pictures—pictures of her and Damien leaving his penthouse together last night.
One headline read: “Billionaire Damien Renaud’s New Mystery Woman: Who Is She?”
Another said: “From Artist to Arm Candy? Damien Renaud’s Latest Flame.”
Valentina groaned, tossing her phone onto the couch. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
By the time she made it to her studio, she was fuming. She tried to focus on painting, but her brush strokes were more aggressive than usual.
“Good morning,” came a familiar voice behind her.
She spun around, nearly knocking over a jar of paint. “Damien!”
He stood in the doorway, looking far too calm for someone who had just caused her life to implode.
“Nice to see you too,” he said, stepping inside.
Valentina crossed her arms. “Did you see the headlines?”
“I did,” Damien said, completely unfazed.
“And you’re not even a little upset?”
“Why would I be?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s just gossip.”
“Just gossip?” Valentina echoed, her voice rising. “Damien, people are calling me your ‘flame.’”
He smirked. “You don’t like the word ‘flame’? I thought it was fitting, considering Inferno.”
“Damien!” she snapped, throwing a paintbrush at him.
He caught it effortlessly, his smirk widening. “Relax, Valentina. This will blow over in a few days.”
“And what if it doesn’t?” she demanded. “What if this ruins my reputation as an artist?”
Damien’s expression softened. He walked closer, his voice gentler now. “No one’s going to stop respecting your talent because of a few tabloid articles. You’re too good for that.”
Her anger deflated slightly, but she still wasn’t ready to forgive him.
“You don’t get it,” she said. “This is my life, Damien. I worked hard to get here, and I’m not going to let anyone take that away from me.”
“I do get it,” Damien said, surprising her. “I know what it’s like to have people talk about you like you’re not even human. But you’re stronger than they are, Valentina. Don’t let them win.”
For a moment, she just stared at him, unsure what to say.
“Fine,” she muttered. “But if this happens again, I’m blaming you.”
Damien chuckled, brushing a strand of paint out of her hair. “Fair enough.”
The media frenzy didn’t die down as quickly as Damien had predicted. If anything, it got worse.
Everywhere Valentina went, she felt eyes on her. The bakery down the street. The grocery store. Even her favorite park wasn’t safe anymore.
By the end of the week, she was ready to scream.
“Remind me why I agreed to this ‘no strings’ thing?” she asked Mia during one of their coffee breaks.
“Because you’re secretly in love with him,” Mia teased.
“I am not,” Valentina said, glaring at her.
“Uh-huh,” Mia said, smirking. “You keep telling yourself that.”
That evening, Valentina was in her studio, trying to ignore the noise outside.
Reporters had found her address and were camped out on the sidewalk, shouting questions about her relationship with Damien. She kept the curtains drawn and the music loud, but it was still hard to concentrate.
When her phone rang, she grabbed it without looking.
“What?” she snapped.
“Hello to you too,” Damien said on the other end.
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What do you want, Damien?”
“I thought you could use a distraction,” he said.
“I could use some peace and quiet,” she muttered.
“Well, I can’t promise that,” Damien said. “But I can promise a change of scenery. Be ready in ten minutes.”
Before she could argue, he hung up.
Ten minutes later, Valentina found herself in Damien’s sleek black car, speeding away from the chaos of the city.
“Where are we going?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“You’ll see,” Damien said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Thirty minutes later, they pulled up to a private dock. A small yacht was waiting, its lights reflecting off the water.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Valentina said, crossing her arms. “A yacht?”
“It’s peaceful,” Damien said, stepping out of the car. “You said you wanted quiet, didn’t you?”
She hesitated but eventually followed him. As soon as they boarded the yacht, she had to admit it was beautiful. The soft glow of the lights, the gentle lapping of the water—it was the calmest she’d felt in days.
“This is... nice,” she admitted reluctantly.
“I told you,” Damien said, handing her a glass of champagne.
As the yacht drifted out into the bay, Valentina felt herself relax. The noise and stress of the week melted away, replaced by the soothing rhythm of the waves.
“I could get used to this,” she said, leaning against the railing.
Damien stood beside her, his expression thoughtful. “You deserve this, Valentina. All of it. The peace, the success... everything.”
She looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat.
“Damien...” she began, but he interrupted her.
“Let me guess,” he said, smirking. “You’re going to say this is a bad idea.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Something like that.”
“Well, too bad,” Damien said, leaning closer. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Valentina rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smile.
- Writer
