After The Storm

Engaged in an instant

Ammielle woke up with a start, realizing she was hugging Alexa. She gently disentangled herself, careful not to wake her. The warmth and intimacy of the moment lingered, but Ammielle shook it off, focusing on the noise coming from outside.

She got up and quickly fixed herself, still groggy from sleep. As she made her way to the front door, she naively thought that maybe someone needed help. But as soon as she opened the door, she was swarmed by people.

Cameras flashed, and voices overlapped, bombarding her with questions.

"Miss, are you really engaged to the De Costas heir?"

"How long have you two been together?"

"Is this a secret relationship that's just come to light?"

Ammielle felt like she was being interrogated. The reporters' questions came at her from all sides, their faces eager and relentless. Her heart pounded, and she felt a wave of panic rising within her. She took a step back, trying to shield herself from the onslaught of attention.

Her mind became a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, fear, and anger. Each camera flash felt like an assault, each question a needle poking at her composure. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but her thoughts were a blur. She was scared and overwhelmed. The intensity of the situation made her feel cornered and vulnerable.

The chaos outside mirrored the storm inside her. The anxiety clawed at her chest, making it hard to breathe. She fought to keep her composure, to not let them see how much they were affecting her. But the anger was bubbling up, threatening to break through her calm façade.

Her thoughts were scattered, but one thing was clear: she needed to get away from this madness. She turned on her heel and quickly went back inside, slamming the door behind her. The noise from outside was muffled, but it still felt suffocating. She leaned against the door, trying to calm her racing heart, but the panic was still there, lurking just beneath the surface.

She took deep, steadying breaths, trying to regain control. She couldn't let the anger consume her, not now. There were more pressing matters to deal with. She needed to find a way to protect herself and Alexa from this unwanted attention. But the fear and confusion made it hard to think clearly.

Ammielle looked around the room, her eyes landing on Alexa, who was beginning to stir and had just woken up.

"Did you do anything?" Ammielle demanded, her voice tinged with irritation. "Is this why you didn't want to go home? Did you lure these people to my place? You rich people don't know how to sort your lives."

Alexa winced at the accusation, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. She hadn't expected things to escalate like this and certainly hadn't meant to bring trouble to Ammielle's doorstep.

"I didn't do anything. You did!"

"How is this about me?" Ammielle asked, utterly confused and irritated.

"At the gallery last night. Some journalists must have recognized me. And Bryan, I don't know if he has something to do with this, but he wouldn't—this will only make him the bad guy. But—but someone might have overheard us."

"What?!"

Alexa showed her phone to Ammielle, the headline blaring, "De Costas Heir: Engaged." The accompanying photo didn't clearly show Ammielle's face, but it was enough to stir trouble.

Ammielle's heart raced as she read the headline. Her hands trembled slightly as she gripped the phone. "Go get ready; we have a film to make," Ammielle told her, turning away to mask her own turmoil.

Alexa's worry was evident. She knew Ammielle was hiding beneath her stern demeanor, but she couldn't quite figure out what was going on in her mind. The usually composed Ammielle seemed shaken, even if she was trying to hide it.