The morning air inside Connor's headquarters was usually calm—controlled chaos at best. But not today.
Rachel stormed into the executive conference room, tablet in hand, eyes blazing. "It's everywhere. The photos, the hotel timestamp, everything. It broke last night on two gossip sites and now it's on every major outlet."
Arnold stood at the head of the table with an unreadable expression, fingers steepled in front of him.
Henry followed Rachel in, along with two of their top media strategy personnel, shoulders tense and faces pale.
"How the hell did this leak?" Henry asked, throwing his folder onto the table. "We locked down the presidential suite's entire floor. That footage was supposed to be secure."
Rachel didn't answer him. Her attention was on Arnold, who hadn't moved or said a word.
"The public's eating it up like a scandal buffet," she continued. "'Mystery woman in billionaire's bed.' They're digging into Freya's background. Some are even speculating she was hired. Others think she's blackmailing you."
Arnold's jaw tightened ever so slightly.
"I've already spoken to Legal," Henry chimed in. "We can issue a statement. Deny everything. Say it was photoshopped. Maybe accuse the media of fabrication."
"That'll just fan the flames," Rachel countered. "The footage is too clean. Too precise. If we lie now, and it gets disproven later, it'll make him look like a coward or—worse—guilty."
Arnold finally looked up. His voice was low but cold enough to silence the entire room. "We're not lying."
Rachel blinked. Henry frowned.
"Then what's the strategy?" Henry asked. "Because the board will want an explanation, and the stock's already dipping. Investors hate surprises."
Arnold stood up slowly and walked to the window.
"Draft a press release," he said. "Keep it brief. Say I won't comment on personal matters for now. No confirmation. No denial."
Rachel hesitated. "What about Freya? They're targeting her. Digging up everything from her family's job history to her college GPA."
"We'll offer her legal protection and security if she needs it," Arnold said with a clipped voice. "No interviews. And no statements from her either."
Henry sighed. "She's going to get chewed alive."
"She didn't ask for this," Arnold muttered.
Rachel folded her arms. "And if she speaks to the press anyway? What if she gets emotional? Or worse, decides to sell her story?"
Arnold turned back sharply to face them. "She won't."
The room fell quiet again.
"Damage control, Rachel," he said. "Reach out to the top five publications and get them off her back. Offer exclusives later if they play nice. Henry, tell the board I'll address them in the evening. And don't let anyone near her unless I approve of it."
Rachel exchanged a look with Henry but nodded. "We'll start now."
As they filed out, Arnold remained by the window, his eyes at somewhere near and distant at the same time.
He didn't say it out loud—but the photo hadn't shocked him.
What did, was how much it bothered him to see Freya caught in the crossfire.
And that, perhaps, scared him most of all.
★★★
Henry adjusted his collar as the security van slowed near Freya's apartment.
A wall of reporters had gathered, cameras flashing, microphones extended like bayonets. The chaos was deafening.
"Make way!" one of the guards barked, stepping out first.
The crowd parted reluctantly, but with enough force behind them, the convoy pushed through.
Reporters shouted questions:
"Is Arnold Connor protecting her?"
"Is the romance rumor true?"
"Did she really spend the night with him?"
Henry ignored them all. He was used to frenzy, but this particular scandal had a volatile edge. He needed to get her secure fast.
"Good morning," Henry said. "Henry Levis, Mr. Connor's assistant. He sent us."
The doorman nodded nervously. "The reporters have been out here since early morning."
Henry didn't reply. He looked around the area and motioned for his team to stay on guard. "No one gets past without clearance. Arnold's orders."
Upstairs, Freya was curled up on her couch, a mug of tea cooling in her hands.
Laura paced nearby, phone in hand, re-reading the article for the fifth time.
"You really made headlines this time," Laura muttered, half in awe, half in concern.
A firm knock on the door startled both of them.
Laura rushed to answer it and found herself face to face with a tall man in his early thirties with an intense gaze and a Bluetooth earpiece. Behind him were two stone-faced security men.
"Hello, I'm Henry Levis. Mr. Connor asked us to secure the perimeter and keep Miss Davis safe."
Laura blinked. "You mean… Arnold?"
"What the—" Freya stood up, confused. "Secure what? What is all this?"
"You're trending globally," Henry replied bluntly. "The hotel photo leak has stirred every shark in the water. Mr. Connor instructed me to keep you protected. Non-negotiable."
"And the team." He gestured behind him. The guards nodded professionally. "They'll be stationed at the entrance and lobby. Discreet, but effective."
"Arnold's really going full Mr. President." Laura wowed.
Freya rolled her eyes. "He didn't even ask if I wanted protection."
"He didn't think you'd say yes." Henry said politely.
Laura stepped in, arms crossed. "And you are?"
"His Executive Assistant, among other things. I handle special situations. Like this."
Laura raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. "Well, maybe you should have called before showing up with an army."
Henry cracked the slightest grin. "Noted."
"So, you always crash women's apartments with armed guards, or just on Thursdays?"
"I save it for women who appear on the front page with billionaires."
"Oh, cool. Want coffee, Mr. Henry Levis?"
"Please don't flirt while I'm under siege." Freya groaned silently into Laura's ears.
Laura chuckled and moved to the kitchen.
"Sure. Black." Henry stepped inside fully, glancing around.
As Laura prepared the coffee, her eyes flicked to him occasionally.
He noticed and asked. "Something on your mind?"
She leaned against the counter. "You don't seem like someone who's used to answering questions."
"I'm not. But I'm learning."
Their eyes met, holding for a second longer than necessary.
From the couch, Freya raised a brow at both of them. "Do I need to leave the room, or are you two writing a side story I don't know about?"
"Don't worry, you're still the headline," Laura winked. "for now."