Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 135364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Like I was the one who overstepped.
I open my mouth again, but something in his expression stops me.
A warning.
He doesn’t say it outright, but the implication is there: if I push this, it won’t end well for me.
Because Mark Chapman isn’t just my senior.
He’s respected. Connected.
A man who is very experienced in this industry - and a man who knows exactly how to get away with something like this.
I highly doubt that this is his first rodeo. He’s too calm, too collected, too casual - like he’s been in this position more than once or twice before.
I force myself to swallow down the anger, the disgust and the helpless frustration clawing at my throat.
For now.
I nod stiffly.
“Understood.”
His smile is all satisfaction, and my stomach churns.
I turn on my heel and walk out of his office, my hands clenched into fists.
I move quickly and sit at my desk. I have research that I could be getting on with, but I find myself stuck still and staring blankly at my computer screen, feeling sick to my stomach.
This is the exact bullshit that so many women in this industry have to deal with, and now I’m tangled up in it, too.
I should fight back.
I should stand up for myself.
But I also know how these things go.
Men like Mark always land on their feet, and women like me are lucky if we don’t get pushed out completely.
So, for now, I’ll keep quiet. I won’t say anything.
But I won’t forgive - and I sure as hell won’t forget.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Daphne
By Monday evening, the internet has its latest obsession.
Photos from the gala have surfaced - courtesy of some anonymous source, of course - and unsurprisingly, they’ve sparked a whirlwind of speculation.
One in particular is causing a stir: a photo of Matteo standing in a dimly lit corner of the ballroom, his head bent close to what the tabloid have dubbed as a mystery woman, the two of them appearing deep in conversation.
All of the local gossip pages are having a field day as a result.
Matteo Rossi’s latest romance?
Who’s the woman spotted with the AS Roma star player at the charity gala?
Sources say the pair spent a considerable amount of time together - could this be the start of something new?
I roll my eyes as I scroll through the article, already knowing exactly who the woman is.
Martina Bianchi, fiancée of Daniyal Ferrara, one of the other journalists who had attended the event.
It’s hardly the scandalous affair that the tabloids are making it out to be, but that won’t stop people from running with it.
The narrative is already set: Matteo Rossi has been pictured with a mystery woman, and now the football world is utterly intrigued.
I huff out a breath, tossing my phone onto the couch.
It shouldn’t bother me.
It doesn’t bother me.
(I hate the way I tell myself that several times).
*
Wednesday evening rolls around soon enough, and the now familiar sight of the Stadio Olimpico looming ahead causes me to sigh.
I park up my rental car and make my way towards the entrance. The bright floodlights cut through the dusky evening sky as the buzz of pre-match anticipation hums around me.
Fans filter in, security yells across at them from where they’re stationed at every entrance, and the faint scent of greasy food carries through the air.
I don’t slow my pace.
With my chin high and shoulders back, I weave through the controlled chaos, my press badge attached securely to the bright lanyard around my neck.
The security guard at the media entrance barely spares me a glance before nodding me through.
Good - I’m getting familiar.
The first few times I walked into this stadium, I’d braced for the usual skepticism, the double-checking and the extra scrutiny; but now, I know exactly where I’m going.
I take the familiar route up to the press box, the stadium pulsing with life around me. A few journalists pass by. Some nod in recognition, but most of them are far too busy tapping away at their phones to notice anyone else.
Slipping into my usual seat, I pull out my laptop, plug in my charger, adjust my notes and start preparing my pre-match observations.
My predictions were already posted earlier this afternoon, and I know they’ve caused a lot of controversy from the comments I’ve received online.
Roma are up against a side that historically hasn’t been a real threat, but this season, they’ve been defying expectations. Their manager has spent the last few years investing heavily in their youth academy, bringing up a crop of hungry, fearless players who have slotted into the first team seamlessly; and while they may still be considered the underdogs, I’ve argued they’re the team to watch tonight.
Some fans think I’m underestimating Roma, while others insist I’m just trying to stir the pot.
But I’ve spent a lot of time researching the sport over the last few weeks, and I’ve come to learn that football is unpredictable, and that momentum only carries a team so far.