"And I'll be damned if I'm going to let that happen. Lucy, lock everything down - disable external servers, shore up our firewalls, get IT working overtime to sniff out any other breaches." Rose barked out commands. No time to sit around panicking, that was not the Shelly way!
Lucy nodded meekly, looking relieved to have marching orders instead of idly spinning in panic. Rose whirled toward the rest of the assembled, wide-eyed staffers gaping at her.
"As for the rest of you, you heard Jake. I want full decontamination procedures initiated until we can be certain this facility hasn't been compromised. No one is to leave until we determine the origin and potential danger posed by these videos."
A chorus of dismayed groans rippled through the crowd, but Rose silenced them with a single, piercing look.
"We're under attack, people," she said, quiet but emphatic. "Which means from here on out, we go to war."
With that sobering decree, she turned on her heel and headed toward the nearest stairwell, gesturing for Jake to follow.
They needed to get to her private bunker suite and scramble a response team immediately before this situation spiraled further out of control...
The emergency sirens wailed in the background as Rose, flanked by Jake, marched through the labyrinthine corridors of Shelley-Tech. Her mind buzzed with the urgency of the situation; every step seemed to echo the palpable tension that had gripped the once-vibrant workspace. Employees, now on edge, watched their CEO pass, their faces a mix of anxiety and expectation.
Reaching her private bunker suite, Rose swiftly entered the secure code, the reinforced door closing behind them with a solid thud. The room, a blend of cutting-edge technology and functional minimalism, housed the nerve center for responding to crises – a fitting reflection of Rose's preparedness for any eventuality.
"Jake, I need a comprehensive security sweep of the entire building. And I mean every nook and cranny. We can't afford any vulnerabilities," Rose commanded, her voice steady, though a storm raged in her eyes.
The head of security nodded in understanding. "Already on it, Ms. Shelley. We'll get to the bottom of this."
As Jake left to coordinate the security sweep, Rose turned her attention to the large display screens that adorned the bunker. Each screen presented a different facet of the ongoing crisis – social media reactions, news coverage, and real-time analytics of the video's spread.
Her executive team filed into the room, their faces reflecting the gravity of the situation. Lucy, her platinum curls now slightly disheveled, took a seat, and Rose began the meeting. "We need to act swiftly and decisively. Our priority is to trace the origin of those videos and identify the individuals responsible. I want updates every thirty minutes, no matter how insignificant they may seem."
The IT experts, hunched over their laptops, furrowed their brows in concentration. One of them, a bespectacled woman named Marcus, spoke up, "Ms. Shelley, we're deploying advanced tracing algorithms, but it might take some time. The encryption on the email and the skill used to cover the tracks are top-notch."
Rose nodded, acknowledging the challenge. "Time is of the essence, we haven't exactly been giving a fair chance," Rose sighed. She could see how everyone was putting a shift in to work and resolve the new storm.
Ascending to the top office floor, she overheard snippets of a conversation seeping through the door.
"What if those footages are true?"
"What do you mean 'if' they are true? If I were you, I'd be running around submitting my CV somewhere else."
Rose's piercing gaze met the eyes of the employees engaged in the hushed exchange. One of them was the very person she had dispatched to fetch her coffee. She continued her path, her heels clicking deliberately loud, a silent reminder of her presence.
The employees dispatched immediately and the one she had sent to get the coffee visibly shook in her shoes as she walked away, looking at Rose's back fading into her office.
Entering her office, she seamlessly moved to the private lounge designed exclusively for herself and Blake. The concealed haven was known only to a select few, a testament to the meticulous secrecy surrounding their personal space.
Her fingers brushed over the array of wine bottles from distant corners of the globe. Selecting one devoid of a label or name, she poured a glass. A moment's contemplation passed, and she abandoned the glass, opting to consume the crimson liquid directly from the bottle.
"Careful, I haven't had blood before, but wouldn't too much of it be bad for you?" Blake's voice, a soothing presence, cut through the silence as he entered the room.
He glanced at Rose drinking the liquid from the bottle which in itself was no ordinary one. It prevented the blood from clothing and was made in such a way that it looked like normal red wine to anyone who didn't take a closer look.
Overtime he had seen Rose drink from time to time and the odd feeling of her drinking human blood was starting to feel less and less outlandish to him.
He possessed the access code to this secluded sanctuary, anticipating Rose's retreat from the tumultuous chaos outside, he followed her and knew she would eventually come here to rest for a while.
"I wish it did. I could use getting drunk now," Rose admitted without turning back, her shoulders carrying the weight of the world.
Blake approached her, his hands enveloping her waist from behind. He brushed aside her dark, finely scented hair and pressed a tender kiss to her neck, whispering into her ear, "I'm here."
In that private enclave, surrounded by uncertainty, the two sought solace in each other. The outside world, with its uproar and accusations, momentarily faded into the background.
"I'm here" those words were all Rose needed at the time. Nothing more, nothing less.