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I changed into the clothes delivered by Lucas’s personal shopper. Now, we’re seated at the dining table, about to eat a meal prepared by his personal chef. I never imagined he lived such an extravagant lifestyle. This wasn’t just wealth; this was a different world entirely. “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier,” he began. “Honestly, I wanted to ignore the issue because Conrad Cross isn’t a threat to me.” I knew that. Who would dare challenge Lucas Westwood? No one in their right mind. But that wasn’t the point. If we’re going to be together, I don’t want to be the reason his family or friends talk behind his back. He continued, “If this is what you really want, then I respect your decision.” His brow furrowed in thought. “Actually, what about The Sinclair Enterprise? My friend Gazelle has been searching for a personal assistant. She’s been borrowing Chairman Sinclair’s assistant for over a year now, but she needs someone of her own. She mentioned she was still looking
I woke to Lucas Westwood’s face mere inches from mine. My hand flew to my mouth, stifling a startled gasp. For a split second, panic surged through me. I tried to remember what happened last night… Lucas had stepped into a room to take a call, and I’d curled up on the couch. The exhaustion had pulled me under completely. My pulse quickened as I watched him, afraid to move, afraid to breathe too loudly. That’s right. Last night, accepted my proposal without hesitation. I was his woman now. And just like he said… we could be fully together like a real couple. His eyes slowly opened, still heavy with sleep, and my lips began to tremble. He looked at me like he wasn’t fully awake yet, like he was still somewhere between sleep and a dream. Then, without warning, he claimed my lips for the first time. The moment our breaths mingled, heat surged through my body. I didn’t know how, but it wasn’t just my lips he consumed; it was a conversation my body seemed to understand instinctively
When Isla left with her friend, Conrad’s expression darkened considerably. “That woman has some nerve lying like that! You need to sue her, Conrad!” his friend Ethan declared. “Shut up,” Conrad snapped, cutting him off with a sharp glare. “She did own the car. I liked it, so I’ve been using it. Simple as that.” His friends exchanged glances, whispering, “What?” “I don’t want to hear any of you talking crap about Isla. Got it?” he warned, his gaze sharp. The group fell silent, taken aback. No one expected him to defend Isla, not after what they’d just seen. Some looked like they wanted to argue, but the warning in his voice kept their mouths shut. Pulling out his phone, he called his assistant. “Send someone to pick me up; I don’t have a car.” The mood had soured completely, and he no longer wanted to stay. “Ah, boss, one more thing,” his assistant said hesitantly. “About Isla’s mother—it turns out she hasn’t used the name Mrs. Foster in years. Our investigation revealed she’s
Lucas Isla’s proposal caught me entirely off guard. Fortunately, my assistant interrupted at just the right moment—Dante and Gianna had just arrived from Europe. They plan to get married and want Gianna to give birth here in Bryston. She could deliver abroad, but she and Dante trust only Gazelle to handle the labor. Gianna fears hospital records might expose her location, allowing Felix Doyle’s family to find her. “Boss, we need a password to erase their names from the digital manifest,” the technician said, glancing at me. I keyed it in for him, still distracted, my thoughts looping back to Isla. I wasn’t sure how to respond to her proposal. As soon as I completed the task, I returned to the private office—but Isla was already gone. “Where is she?” I asked my assistant. “You mean Ms. Isla Foster?” he clarified, glancing into the room. “I’m sorry, boss. I stepped out to the data and profile department. I didn’t notice she’d left your office.” I stepped inside and noticed sever
Just then, a group of students walked in—baseball players, judging by their uniforms. One of them casually leaned his bat against the entrance stand, where umbrellas and other random items were usually placed, sliding it neatly into one of the slots. As soon as they disappeared inside, I walked straight over and grabbed the bat without a second thought. I yanked the bat out, my grip tightening with purpose as I strode toward the luxury car parked out front. Standing before the pristine windshield, I raised the bat high. Every frustration, every humiliation, every moment of feeling powerless surged through me as I brought it down. The impact sent a satisfying spiderweb of cracks across the glass, and I didn’t stop there. With each swing, memories flooded back—my mother’s disappointed face, the years I’d wasted loving someone who never deserved it, all the times I’d been made to feel small and insignificant. The car alarm’s shrill cry seemed to echo my silent screams. Still, it wasn’
My proposal was impossible—I know that. I’m sure Mr. Westwood has already received offers like this before. Who am I to throw myself at him like this? Before Lucas could respond, a knock came at the door. He quietly set his iPad down on the table and walked over to answer it. His assistant spoke in a low tone, but it was clear enough for me to catch every word. “Boss, sorry to disturb you. Your friend Dr. Castillo and his wife Gianna De Luca have returned to Bryston. He called because he couldn’t reach your phone. According to Dr. Castillo, they’re worried NovexLab might discover them.” ‘Gianna De Luca? NovexLab?’ My body trembled as my gaze fell to his iPad screen. The NovexLab logo blazed from the header, but the data beneath it looked different from what I expected. One thing became crystal clear: Lucas Westwood had been helping the government with their audit of that company. ‘Shit.’ “Isla?” I flinched at the sound of his voice. “Wait here. I need to make a call,” he said