Bound To The Broken Alpha (Amy and Daniel) novel Chapter 67

**When Dawn Breaks Slowly Hope Finds Space To Grow by Jin Rowan**
**Chapter 67: Too Late**

**AMY**

The whirlwind of the past few days had been nothing short of a tempest, and Clara’s emotional collapse at the event had become the hot topic of every media outlet. News sites, gossip blogs, and even the company’s internal chat groups buzzed with the scandal. It was being labeled a “public fall from grace,” and honestly, I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. I had sensed this impending disaster for quite some time, and strangely enough, a part of me felt a sense of relief that it had finally unfolded.

As the week progressed, the focus shifted to damage control, but I wasn’t doing it for Clara. My priority was Amy; she didn’t deserve to be entangled in Clara’s chaos again. She maintained a stoic demeanor, going to work as if the world hadn’t just shifted beneath her feet. Yet, this only seemed to amplify the media’s appetite for a reaction from her. They were desperate for a quote, a glimpse of vulnerability, but she remained resolute in her silence.

The following morning, I entered the office only to be met with an unwelcome sight: three reporters loitering near the front desk, their eyes sharp and hungry. Cole was already there, his hand firmly gripping the door handle, effectively blocking their path.

“She’s not making any statement,” he declared with an air of authority.

One reporter, sensing an opportunity, turned to me. “Mr. Brian, can you at least confirm if Amy intends to press charges against Clara?”

I shot back, “No. Now leave before security has to escort you out.”

They hesitated, uncertainty flickering in their eyes, but ultimately retreated when Cole stepped forward with an imposing presence. “They’re getting desperate,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“She won’t speak to them,” I affirmed. “She doesn’t owe them anything.”

Cole nodded, a look of understanding passing between us. “She’s handling this better than most would.”

That much was true. Amy had chosen to remain silent, but her quiet strength spoke volumes, doing far more for her image than any statement could. The truth was beginning to surface, and the world was slowly, but surely, starting to see it.

Later that day, I made my way to Mrs. Carter’s office to deliver some documents. As I passed Amy’s workspace, I noticed her poring over files with her assistant. There was a serene quality about her, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling outside.

“You’ve been unusually quiet lately,” I called out from the doorway, curious about her demeanor.

She glanced up, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “I’ve had practice.”

I stepped inside, the door clicking softly behind me. “You do realize Clara’s videos are circulating everywhere on the internet, right?”

“I’ve heard,” she replied, her tone nonchalant. “I don’t need to watch them.”

Leaning against the wall, I couldn’t help but voice my thoughts. “She genuinely thought she could twist the narrative again, but people are finally done believing her lies.”

Amy shrugged slightly, a quiet confidence radiating from her. “The truth has its own timing. It always shows up when it’s supposed to.”

She spoke as if she had finally shed the burden of needing to prove herself to anyone, and I found myself torn between admiration and guilt for not standing up for her sooner. Perhaps I felt both.

By the afternoon, news broke that the company had officially severed ties with Clara. The statement cited “unethical behavior,” and there was no attempt to soften the blow. Clara was out, and when she learned of this, I heard she arrived at Mark’s place in tears. Though I wasn’t present, security filled me in on the details: how she had tried to faint again, pleading with him to defend her one last time.

But he didn’t.

The next day, I encountered Mark outside the office, and he looked like a shell of his former self, hollow and lost. He sat in his car, staring blankly ahead, as if he were searching for answers in the asphalt. I knocked on the window gently, and he rolled it down slowly, revealing the turmoil etched on his face.

“You look like you haven’t slept a wink,” I remarked, concern creeping into my voice.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Would you be able to sleep if your life just went up in flames?”

“Maybe,” I replied thoughtfully. “It depends on whether I was the one who set the fire.”

His expression darkened. “She lied to me, Brian. About everything.”

“You knew,” I countered softly. “You just didn’t want to accept it.”

He sighed heavily, the weight of regret hanging in the air. “I thought she was sick. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“Protecting someone who doesn’t need protection isn’t kindness,” I said gently. “It’s blindness.”

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