By 8 a.m., Nova Heights was already awake — and so was the internet.
Amelia didn't even have time to sip her coffee before her phone exploded with notifications.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Group chats, work threads, even Lydia texting in all caps.
> Lydia: GIRL. CHECK NOVA DAILY. RIGHT. NOW.
Lydia: WHAT DID YOU DO?! 😭😭😭
Her heart sank.
She opened the link.
There it was — front page of Nova Daily, complete with a grainy photo clearly taken from across the street:
> "Billionaire King and His Assistant — Secret Dinner Sparks Corporate Scandal!"
The image showed her leaving the high-end restaurant the night before — Christopher walking behind her, jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes locked on her in that way he did when he thought no one was watching.
To a stranger, it screamed romance.
To the media, it screamed clickbait.
To her? It screamed disaster.
"God, no," she muttered, pressing a hand to her forehead.
She barely had time to breathe before her office phone rang.
"Miss Jones," Mark's voice came through, tight. "You should probably avoid the lobby."
"Why?"
"Because Clara's already down here, playing public relations princess — and she's telling anyone who'll listen that you slept your way back into the company."
Amelia closed her eyes, the humiliation flooding in hot and sharp. "Of course she is."
"HR wants a meeting at ten. And—" Mark hesitated. "He's furious."
Her stomach twisted. "Christopher?"
"You might want to brace yourself, Amelia. He's not just mad at the press. He's mad at you."
---
King's Corporation looked different that morning — colder somehow.
Every glance felt like judgment, every whisper a dagger.
Amelia walked through it all with her head high, even though her insides were shaking.
When she reached the executive floor, the double doors to his office were already open.
He was standing by the window again, phone in hand, voice like steel.
"I don't care how much they offer. Take every article down or I'll sue their entire editorial team into early retirement."
He ended the call sharply, then turned.
"Close the door," he said.
She did.
"Is there a reason I'm on the front page with my assistant, Miss Jones?" His tone was razor-calm — too calm.
"It's a misunderstanding. Someone must've taken a photo when we left—"
"Left?" He arched a brow. "From a private dinner I never approved as business-related?"
Her pulse raced. "You sent the invite."
"I don't recall sending an invite that said, Let's give the press a field day."
Her jaw clenched. "With all due respect, sir, I can't control what the paparazzi twist things into."
He stepped closer, eyes cold. "You can control how you behave in public."
That one landed. Hard.
She swallowed, forcing her voice steady. "I didn't do anything wrong."
"No," he said softly, "but you made me look human — and that's worse."
She flinched.
For a second, he looked like he wanted to take it back. But he didn't.
"HR's handling the internal fallout," he said finally, walking back to his desk. "You'll be on leave until this settles."
Her voice cracked. "You're suspending me?"
His eyes didn't meet hers. "It's better than being fired."
She stood there for a heartbeat, the sound of her pulse loud in her ears.
Then she nodded once. "Understood."
And before he could say another word, she walked out — quietly, gracefully, but burning inside.
---
By noon, social media had exploded.
Clara Bennett was trending for all the wrong reasons — after someone leaked an internal email thread showing she'd been the one who tipped off the press "by accident."
But before the truth reached Christopher, the damage had already been done.
Amelia sat on Lydia's couch that night, laptop closed, scrolling through the chaos online.
#KingAffair
#CEOandAssistant
#CorporateLoveScandal
Every headline stung a little more than the last.
Her phone buzzed. Aunt Chloe.
> Chloe: Ignore them, sweetheart. Truth always finds its way.
Amelia: I wish truth paid rent, Aunt Chloe.
Chloe: The kids are asking about you. Want to talk to them?
She smiled weakly, tears threatening. "Yeah," she whispered to herself. "I need that."
As soon as she saw their little faces on the video call — Ethan's shy grin, Emily and Lily giggling in their pajamas — the world felt a little less cruel.
"Mommy, we saw you on the news!" Lily blurted out.
Her stomach dropped. "You… what?"
"Aunty Chloe said it's just fake people stories," Ethan said matter-of-factly. "But you looked pretty."
Amelia laughed through the tears. "Thanks, baby. And yeah — they're just stories."
Behind her smile, her heart broke a little. Because somewhere in that towering city, the man she couldn't stop thinking about was the reason her name was on everyone's lips again.
And this time, not for the right reasons.
---
Meanwhile, in his penthouse high above Nova Heights, Christopher sat staring at the same photo on his tablet.
He zoomed in — her hair, the way her face turned slightly toward him —
and for the first time in years, he didn't see a scandal.
He saw the night five years ago.
He saw her.
And that realization scared the hell out of him.
He put down the tablet, jaw tight, then whispered to the empty room —
"Damn it, Amelia."
---