Chapter 11: Reputation Vs Love.

Arielle should've known the calm wouldn't last.

The moment she stepped into Cross Enterprises the next morning, the air felt... wrong. Colder. Sharper.

Whispers danced behind perfectly manicured hands. Eyes flicked her way and then quickly away, like she'd suddenly turned radioactive.

She frowned as she passed the marketing floor—two interns straightened their backs too quickly, and one nudged the other, whispering something with an unmistakable grin.

She'd seen that look before.

She'd been that look before.

And when her phone buzzed with a message from Damien's assistant—"Please come to the 38th floor immediately. Close the door behind you."—her gut twisted.

She rode the elevator in silence, heart thudding louder with each floor.

When the doors opened, Damien's assistant, Claire, stood waiting. Usually chipper, her face was pale.

"Claire?" Arielle asked, voice barely steady.

"There's... been a leak," Claire whispered. "Someone sent photos of you and Damien on the rooftop. From last night."

Arielle's blood ran cold.

Inside Damien's office, he was pacing.

A phone call ended abruptly as he turned to face her.

"Arielle—" his voice was calm, too calm, the kind of calm that meant a storm was coming.

She didn't speak. Couldn't.

He stepped toward her, holding out his phone. "Look."

She took it—and winced.

There they were.

Photo 1: Her leaning into his shoulder, eyes closed.

Photo 2: Him holding her hand on the stone bench.

Photo 3: A tight zoom on their intertwined fingers, captioned: "Cross Enterprises' Golden CEO and the Cleaner's Daughter?"

And beneath that… comments. Thousands of them. Already.

> "Damien Cross dating a janitor's daughter? How romanticized."

"Is this a PR stunt?"

"Nepotism much?"

"I thought he had standards."

She nearly dropped the phone.

Damien watched her, his jaw clenched. "We're trying to trace who took them. The garden level is supposed to be secure."

Arielle blinked hard, fighting the burn in her throat. "They called me a PR stunt."

"They called me heartless last week. The media flips with the wind."

She took a shaky step back. "This is your world, Damien. Headlines, investors, social media vultures..."

"And now it's yours too."

"No," she said firmly. "No, it's not. I didn't ask for this."

"I know," he said, voice low.

"Do you?" she snapped. "Because right now, you're still the powerful CEO. Your reputation might take a hit, but you'll recover. But me? I'm going to be the punchline of every coffee break."

He moved closer. "Then I'll make a statement. Clarify that we're seeing each other."

"You think that'll fix this?"

He paused. "I think... I'm not going to let you go because of noise."

Arielle's heart cracked a little at that.

She wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to.

But her world wasn't made for flashing lights and press releases.

She pulled in a shaky breath. "Damien, your company is your life. Your name is gold. Your investors—your board—do you think they'll applaud this? You dating someone who doesn't even own a blazer?"

His voice was quiet. "You're not just someone. You're her."

"Her," she repeated hollowly.

He reached for her hand. "The woman I care about. Who sees me. Who doesn't care what I'm worth—just who I am."

Arielle let him take her hand, but her fingers didn't close around his.

"I can handle being invisible," she whispered. "I've lived in the background most of my life. But being seen like this? Mocked? Picked apart by people who don't even know me? I don't know if I'm strong enough for that."

Damien's eyes darkened. "You don't have to be. Let me carry this."

"But it's not just you," she said, voice breaking. "It's us. And right now, us is a liability."

The words hung between them, harsh and cold.

Damien exhaled. Slowly. Steadily. "Are you saying you want to walk away?"

Arielle hesitated.

She didn't want to.

But logic was clawing at her heart. Screaming that this—whatever this was—could cost him everything.

"I'm saying…" Her voice shook. "I don't want to be the reason you lose your empire."

Damien's gaze didn't waver. "Then you don't know me at all."

She looked up, startled.

He took a step closer, firm and unrelenting. "I built this empire, Arielle. Every floor, every wall, every deal—brick by brick. But if it comes down to choosing between reputation and you…"

He lifted her hand to his chest, pressing it over his heart.

"I choose you."

Her eyes brimmed with tears. "Damien…"

"I don't care if they whisper. Let them. I don't care if they post, or if the board side-eyes me, or if my name trends for the wrong reasons." His voice lowered. "You make me better. You keep me grounded. You remind me of the boy I used to be. The one who dreamed bigger than money."

Arielle shook her head, tears sliding freely now. "And what if they never stop? What if this storm never dies down?"

"Then we weather it together."

Silence.

And then—finally—her fingers curled around his.

Not tightly. Not confidently.

But enough.

Enough to say: I'm scared... but I'm still here.

He wrapped her in his arms, slow and careful, like holding her was the only truth he trusted.

Outside, the world spun, social media churned, and reputations danced on the edge of fire.

But inside Damien's office, two hearts held still.

Love wasn't always easy.

And sometimes, it came at a cost.

But in that moment, wrapped in his arms and holding onto something stronger than fear, Arielle realized—

Love, when real, was worth the risk.

Even if it meant setting your reputation on fire to keep it alive.