Chapter 10
Damage Control
The storm broke publicly by lunchtime. A notorious media gossip site ran the story with the headline: CHROMA'S CREATIVE DIRECTOR AND JUNIOR EDITOR: A FASHIONABLE AFFAIR OR A CASE OF NEPOTISM? The comment section was a cesspool of vitriol.
Luca’s response was swift and ruthless. He called an emergency all-staff meeting. The air in the conference room was thick enough to choke on. He stood at the front, Isla seated in the front row, her posture rigid.
He paused, letting the facts settle.
“The private exchanges that were stolen and disseminated were a criminal violation of privacy. Our IT department is already tracing the source. When we find who is responsible, they will be terminated immediately and we will pursue legal action.” His gaze swept the room, a silent challenge.
“The only unprofessional behaviour here is the act of sabotage against a colleague. Is that understood?”
There were muted nods. It was a masterclass in damage control—defending her professionally while drawing a brutal line in the sand.
But as they left the meeting, Isla felt hollow.
He had defended the editor, but he had not defended the woman.
He had not said, “I love her, and that’s why I respect her mind.
” He had treated their relationship like a inconvenient smear on her professional record, something to be explained away with metrics and awards.
Back in his office, she confronted him. “You made it sound like a business transaction. Like my value is only in my ideas.”
“What did you want me to do, Isla?” he asked, exasperated. “Declare my undying love? That would have only made it worse! I had to re-establish your professional credibility.”
“You had to re-establish your credibility,” she shot back. “You had to prove you weren’t being led around by your… feelings. You were managing a crisis, not defending us.”
“They are the same thing!” he argued, his voice rising. “Defending you is defending us! I will not let some jealous, petty snake destroy what you’ve built here.”
“Maybe it’s already destroyed,” she said quietly, the fight going out of her. “Maybe this is just what it is now. Me, having to be twice as good to be considered half as worthy. And you, having to manage the ‘problem’ of me.”
She left his office, the chasm between them wider than ever.
He had fought the battle with the precision of a general, but in doing so, he had made her feel like just another piece of contested territory.
The damage was controlled, but the wound was deep, and she wasn't sure their relationship would survive the scar.