27 | ☕Flamingo Fury Atlas Valtieri Puts Reporters in Their Place ☕
Anya was running late for her shift at the café, but honestly, she didn't mind much.
The ticking of the clock on her phone had become a distant hum as she hurried down the street, her sneakers slapping the pavement.
A few more minutes of peace before she was caught up in the swirl of customers and orders, before the clinking of coffee cups and the rapid hum of the espresso machine made it impossible to hear her own thoughts.
Her mind wandered back to the zoo—the day that had felt like a story unfolding just for her.
She could still picture the way Atlas had grinned when they approached the flamingo enclosure.
She remembered his goofy grin as he mimicked their awkward, lanky walk, his arms flapping like wings.
Anya couldn't hold back a smile just thinking about it.
He'd been so absurd, so delightfully unashamed, that she'd laughed so hard her stomach had hurt.
And then, there was the monkey incident—she couldn't ever forget that.
Atlas had gotten so into it, tossing pieces of fruit at the monkeys with the enthusiasm of a child, only to have one of them throw it right back at him, almost hitting him square in the face.
She'd been mortified, sure, but she'd been laughing so hard, she barely noticed when he tried to dodge the fruit.
It was like dating a man who still had the heart of a child, who found joy in the simplest things and never hesitated to share that joy with her.
And honestly? She was starting to love it.
Her chest swelled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the chilly breeze blowing against her skin. Atlas was different—no pretensions, no walls. He was just... real. And that was something she hadn't expected to find.
But then, as she rounded the corner to the café, her heart gave a sudden, uncomfortable lurch.
She stopped dead in her tracks.
A group of reporters stood outside, their cameras flashing like angry fireflies in the early morning light.
Their voices were a constant murmur, shouting into microphones, the sound of their rapid-fire questions colliding in the air.
Each one seemed more eager than the last, angling for the best shot of the café's newest celebrity.
Anya's pulse quickened, and she could feel the weight of their stares even from across the street.
Her stomach flipped over, a knot of unease tightening in her gut.
What the hell is going on? She muttered to herself, her voice barely audible over the chaos.
Her hand gripped her phone tighter, as if she could somehow control the situation from this distance.
She stepped forward cautiously, unsure of what to do. Was something going on? Was there a story here she didn't know about? She hadn't heard any buzz about the café being in the spotlight, not since she'd joined a few months ago.
Then, she noticed Kaia.
Kaia was standing on the sidewalk in front of the café, looking like she was having a meltdown of her own.
She was waving her arms, trying to push the reporters away, her face flushed with frustration.
Her words were lost in the cacophony of voices, but Anya could tell she was trying to shoo them off, as though they were nothing more than a bunch of overly aggressive pigeons.
"Kaia!" Anya called, her voice sharp as she broke into a jog, closing the distance between them.
Kaia caught sight of her and immediately started waving her over, her eyes wide with panic. "Anya!" she shouted, her voice strained. "I swear, I thought they'd never stop coming! They've been here for the last hour, and they won't leave!"
"What is this?" Anya asked, her voice shaking now as she reached Kaia's side. "Why are they here?"
"I have no idea," Kaia said, practically vibrating with frustration.
"But I think they're here for you. They kept asking if you worked here, if you were a part of the 'big reveal' or something, but I didn't know what they were talking about. Then they started talking about 'breaking news,' and now they're acting like you're some kind of—of—celebrity!"
Anya's stomach dropped. "Me? A celebrity?" She ran a hand through her hair, feeling the confusion turn into a kind of dread. "What did they mean by that?"
"I don't know!" Kaia's voice cracked. "It's like they think you're the star of some big story. They just keep trying to get inside, and they're not listening to me! I've tried to tell them you're not here, but they won't listen. They think you're hiding in the back or something."
Anya's heart was racing now, her head spinning with questions that didn't have answers.
She tried to peer through the reporters, looking for any sign of what they could possibly know.
The last thing she wanted was to be thrust into the public eye like this—she had no idea how they even knew about her, much less why they thought she had anything to do with some "big reveal."
A reporter near the door suddenly turned his camera toward her, recognizing her. "There she is!" he shouted, pointing his microphone directly at her. "Is it true? Are you the one they've been talking about?"
Anya's legs turned to jelly, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. Kaia stepped in front of her, blocking her from the camera's lens. "Hey! She's not ready to talk!" Kaia snapped, her voice shaking but fierce.
Kaia pushed Anya into the backroom, slamming the door behind her with a dramatic huff of relief. "I don't know how it all started, but... your face is in the newspapers today," she said, looking way too pleased with herself for someone who had just caused an emotional crisis.
Anya blinked, still gasping for breath as her heart pounded in her chest. "What? No. Wait, what? Why? What happened?"
Kaia didn't answer at first. Instead, she grabbed a copy of the local newspaper from the counter, as if it were some sort of ancient artifact, and slapped it into Anya's hands with the flair of someone handing over a treasure map.
Anya stared at the headline, her heart sinking. It read: "CEO Atlas Valtieri's Mystery Girlfriend: Zoo Date Drama!"
Her brain stalled for a moment. She looked up at Kaia, confused. "Wait. What? What the hell is this? Is this a joke? Who are these people and why do they think they know me?"
Below the headline was a picture of her and Atlas at the zoo.
She was mid-laugh, probably at some ridiculous thing Atlas had just said or done, and Atlas was giving one of his signature "serious" faces—arms crossed, furrowed brow, as though he were the world's foremost flamingo expert.
The picture was so candid, so caught off guard, it looked like something out of a badly staged reality TV show.
Anya felt her stomach flip. She didn't even remember anyone taking that photo.
Was there a paparazzi hiding in the bushes like a ninja?
Her eyes widened as she scanned the article, her pulse quickening. "Are you kidding me? This is my worst nightmare! Why is this happening? Why am I in the paper? Why is my face on the front page?!"
Kaia's smile was a mix of sympathy and amusement.
"Oh yeah, it's a thing, alright. The reporters must've caught wind of your zoo date—those photos of you two laughing, tossing fruit at monkeys, all that good stuff. And boom, here we are. Tabloid central. They've been trying to get a scoop on Atlas for months, and now?
You're part of the package deal."
Anya's pulse was thudding in her ears. "This wasn't how I wanted to get attention," she muttered, feeling the colour drain from her face as she scanned the article. Her fingers were shaking as she held the paper. Why was this happening?
Before Kaia could offer more words of "wisdom," the café door flung open with a loud bang, the sharp sound cutting through the tension in the air. Anya whipped around, her heart leaping into her throat, and her breath caught as she saw him.
Atlas.
He stepped into the café like a storm had just entered, his tall frame casting a long, looming shadow over the room.
The soft hum of conversation faltered as the door slammed shut behind him, making everyone pause.
His dark eyes immediately locked onto the reporters standing outside, their aggressive cameras flashing and their voices raising in a cacophony of demands for attention.
Before he even fully stepped inside, his posture shifted in an instant—his broad shoulders stiffened, his usually calm demeanour hardening into something sharp and fierce.
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, it looked as if the air in the room itself had gone colder.
Anya, still dazed by the whirlwind of events, barely had time to register his presence before his gaze swung from the chaos outside to the counter. The weight of his fury was palpable, like a crackling static in the air.
Kaia slammed the door shut with an exaggerated thud, her hands flying to bolt the lock as if Atlas had just issued an order that couldn't be ignored. "It's not just them, Atlas," she said, her voice low, almost apologetic. "There's a whole crowd out front."
Atlas didn't even look her way, his gaze still locked on the swarm of reporters outside, his frustration simmering under the surface.
His lips pressed together in a thin line, his expression now fully a mask of controlled anger.
His body was taut, ready to spring into action.
His hands, though still and poised, twitched in the air, like coiled springs just waiting to snap.
Anya stood frozen in the backroom, her mind racing at a thousand miles per hour.
She could hear the tension in the air, feel it in her chest like a dull weight.
Was this really happening? Was he really this angry?
The reporters—who, up until now, had been a distant inconvenience—had now turned her quiet life upside down, and in this moment, Atlas was turning into the very thing she never expected him to be: a protective force, and one not to be messed with.
Atlas's eyes flicked back to the group of reporters outside, his expression darkening even further.
His anger, once controlled, now looked like something that could easily boil over.