Chapter 66: Chapter Sixty Five

Athena

A few days after returning home from the hospital, I decided to take a short walk, only to be ambushed by a swarm of reporters. Their relentless questions about the incident with Mr. Nielsen caught me off guard—I had no idea how the news had spread. But I didn’t stick around to find out. Heart pounding, I turned and ran as fast as my legs would carry me.

Unfortunately, they weren’t so easily shaken off. They trailed me all the way home, where Beatrix, poised to leave in her sleek Mercedes Maybach, seized the moment to step into the spotlight once more. 

Ever the actress, she flashed a dazzling smile for the cameras, effortlessly slipping an arm around my shoulders, playing the role of the perfect mother.

Disgust twisted in my gut. I wanted to shove her away, to wipe the false affection off her face, but I forced a smile for the flashing cameras before stepping aside, letting Beatrix bask in the attention. I thought that by Monday, the frenzy would have settled. But I was wrong.

The moment Dylan drove through the main gates of the school, my stomach dropped. There they were—the same relentless crowd of reporters, waiting like vultures.

Dylan opened the back door for me, and as I stepped out, the air erupted with a flurry of questions. Cameras flashed, voices blended into a chaotic hum, each question sharper than the last.

"Athena! Do you have any comments on the allegations?"

"What do you have to say about Mr. Nielsen’s accusations?"

"Do you deny being involved?"

"Were you aware this would happen?"

"How does it feel to be back in the limelight, just like during your father’s arrest?"

I froze. My grip tightened around the strap of my bag as my pulse pounded in my ears. It was happening again—the whispers, the scrutiny, the merciless stares. Just like before.

The incident with Mr. Nielsen had dragged me back into the public eye, mirroring the nightmare of my father’s arrest. Back then, the media had followed me relentlessly, dissecting my every move, suffocating me under the weight of their judgment. 

And just like before, the Sandersons reveled in the attention, pretending to be my unwavering supporters. Their carefully crafted statements of ‘love’ and ‘solidarity’ were nothing more than another performance, another lie.

But I knew the truth. They were using me. Just as they always had.

A cold sweat broke out along my skin, my vision blurring. The weight of it all crushed me, and not even Dylan’s attempts to shield me from the reporters could lessen the suffocating grip of panic.

“Athena! Please, just one statement!”

The chaos surged around me, pressing in from all sides—until a sudden, commanding voice cut through the noise.

“Step back. Now.”

Eros.

The crowd stilled, murmurs rippling through the press as Eros Belmonte strode through the sea of reporters. His steel-grey eyes swept over them with open disdain, his presence radiating authority. Behind him, his bodyguards moved swiftly, forming a protective barrier between me and the media.

“Eros Belmonte?” a reporter gasped. Camera flashes intensified, capturing every inch of the striking figure who had just become part of the unfolding scandal.

“Mr. Belmonte, do you have a comment on—”

Eros silenced them with a single glare before turning to me. His voice, though firm, softened.

“Are you okay?”

I tried to speak, but my throat tightened, the weight of everything crashing down on me.

“I—I can’t—”

Before I could finish, Eros cupped my face, his touch steady and grounding. His thumb brushed away a tear I hadn’t even realized had fallen.

And just like that, the storm raging inside me quieted—if only for a moment.

And then, he turned to the cameras.

“For the record,” Eros declared, his voice slicing through the stunned silence, “Athena is my girlfriend.”

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. The paparazzi erupted into a frenzy, cameras flashing at a furious pace. The air buzzed with disbelief before the inevitable onslaught of questions.

“Since when?”

“Is this a PR stunt?”

“Are the rumors about her false?”

I stared at him, my pulse racing. “Eros—”

“When did you start dating?” another reporter demanded.

But Eros wasn’t finished. His grip on me remained firm, protective, unwavering. He lifted a hand, silencing them effortlessly. When he spoke again, his voice was cold, edged with quiet authority.

“I won’t tolerate anyone spreading malicious lies about her. Anyone caught defaming her will face legal action. That is not a warning—it is a promise.”

The weight of his words settled over the crowd, thick with unspoken tension. His gaze swept across the reporters, daring them to challenge him.

I stood frozen, my heart slamming against my ribs. His girlfriend? I had imagined the possibility, dreamed of it even, but never like this. Never in such a public, non-romantic way. Yet, the warmth of his hand, the certainty in his voice—it grounded me.

For the first time, I saw hesitation flicker in the reporters’ eyes. They knew better than to call his bluff. Even if his grandfather wasn’t the President, even if his last name didn’t carry weight on its own, his father’s influence was enough to ruin their careers. And me? I wasn’t important enough to be worth the risk.

Eros turned to his security team. “Get them out of here. Now.”

At his command, the bodyguards moved swiftly, pushing the reporters back. Students who had gathered to watch the spectacle murmured in astonishment, their gazes darting between me and Eros.

When the last camera disappeared beyond the school gates, Eros finally exhaled, his grip on my arms softening. “Come on.”

I let him guide me inside. The hallways were mercifully empty, the students still too caught up in the scene outside to linger. He led me into a quiet study hall and shut the door behind us.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Eros leaned against a table, arms crossed. “Yes, I did.”

I shook my head, overwhelmed. “You just told the world—”

“That you’re mine?” His tone was even, unreadable. “I did.”

My breath hitched. “Why?”

His gaze softened, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Because you needed someone to stand by you.” His lips twitched, not quite a smile. “Or would you rather I let them tear you apart?”

I clenched my fists, my walls threatening to crumble. “You don’t understand. This is what they want—the attention. The Sandersons thrive on it. And now, you’re part of their game.”

Eros tilted his head. “You think I care about their games?”

I had no answer.

“Athena,” he continued, stepping closer, “I meant what I said. I won’t let them—or anyone else—tear you down.”

His words settled deep in my chest, shaking something loose. Before I could stop myself, tears welled up, slipping down my face in silent torrents.

Eros sighed, stepping closer. Without hesitation, he pulled me into his arms.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his hand resting gently against the back of my head. “Let it out.”

I gripped his jacket, burying my face in his shoulder. It had been so long since someone had held me like this—not as a pawn, not as a burden, but as someone worth protecting. Even though Eros and I had grown close, I’d avoided seeking comfort in his embrace since that first time he held me in the rain.

But this time, I didn’t pull away. Now, I let myself hold on.

The world outside still whispered, still speculated. But at that moment, none of it mattered.