Do you think Conrad really cares about Isla, or just the attention she gives him?
Gazelle had been quiet for some time as we sat in the car. Our meeting with the Fosters hadn’t gone well. She kept her gaze fixed outside the window, lost in thought. The silence started to feel heavy, so I decided to break it. “I-I’m sorry if I lost control back there,” I said, breaking the tension. “I shouldn’t have let Elara get under my skin like that.” She finally turned to me and let out a quiet sigh. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, too, for going silent. My head’s just all over the place; thinking about the Foster Corporation, the wedding, my baby twinkle…” Relief washed over me. At least the silence hadn’t been about my outburst. “About the issues you’re investigating,” I said carefully, “the engineers we spoke with earlier seemed unaware of what’s happening.” “They are,” Gazelle replied. “The refineries are overseas, so they outsourced manpower outside of Foster Corporation. That’s where the contract went wrong. I only discovered the third-party involvement during my audit. I no
Gazelle smiled and gave my arm a reassuring tap. “Relax… I know what you mean. I’m not judging you, Isla, if you’re worried about that.” “Thank you…” The knot in my chest loosened. It was clear how determined Gazelle was to succeed in this agreement with the Fosters. But the moment we stepped into the meeting room, my relief vanished. Sitting at the table was someone I hoped I wouldn’t run into today. Elara. Dad handed her this project as if it were a favor. “Isla?” Her eyes widened at the sight of me standing beside Gazelle. I didn’t respond. Engaging with her was the last thing I wanted, especially not in front of my new boss. “She’s my executive assistant,” Gazelle said evenly. “Really?” Elara muttered, masking her irritation with a forced smile. I kept my expression neutral. Her team started filing in, responding one by one to Gazelle’s questions. Most of them were veteran engineers who’d been working with Sinclair Enterprise for years. Without wasting time, Gazelle do
Like the first time we kissed, Lucas’s lips sent a rush through my entire being, blurring every emotion crowding my head. They washed away the doubts I had buried deep, until all that remained was the heady mix of our breaths in that passionate moment. He inhaled sharply as we pulled apart, only to let his lips trail down to my neck, hot and unrelenting. At twenty-five, I had never felt lips against my throat, had never known how such a simple touch could brand itself into memory. A moan climbed up my throat, but I bit my lip to stop it from spilling out. Then, without glancing at the untouched five-star meal on the table, he scooped me into his arms. He carried me to the couch, my hair fanning out against the cushions, and his mouth found mine again, hungry and consuming. Lucas’s kisses were hard to put into words. They were intense, like they carried both flavor and fire, as if he were trying to memorize the taste of me. And I kissed him back with the same urgency, giving in c
My mind was a mess as I sat across from Lucas at the table. The Fosters had already done a great job screwing up my entire day, and to make things worse, fragmented memories from the previous night kept surfacing like unwelcome ghosts. I couldn’t remember everything, but the bits I did recall were enough to make me want to disappear into the floor. Lucas hadn’t said a word since we sat down. He just quietly sipped his coffee, his expression unreadable. Was he thinking about last night too? ‘Geez. No more tequila, mamacita. Ever again!’ He glanced up, his eyes meeting mine briefly, as if he sensed the storm in my head. He cleared his throat softly. “About last night—” “I’m really sorry!” I blurted out before he could continue. “I’m sorry for whatever I did last night. D-did I… do something crazy?” Lucas set his cup down and looked at me. The way he stared made me shiver, though I didn’t know why. “That depends,” he said slowly, “on what kind of answer you’re prepared to hear. I
I looked around, unsure where to even begin searching for Isla. “Mr. Westwood!” I turned as the hotel manager rushed over, catching me off guard. “The woman inside… she’s making a scene. She’s crying and asking for you.” My mind immediately went to Isla’s friend; perhaps something had happened. I asked, “You mean the woman I dropped off earlier?” “No, sir. This is someone entirely different. She claims you abandoned her.” A cold realization washed over me as I followed him through the marble corridors. The moment I stepped into the lounge, she was sitting on the carpet barefoot, her heels tossed aside, hair a little messy. A small group of hotel staff hovered around her in a loose semicircle, their faces torn between professional concern and quiet panic. “I’m with Lucas Westwood! Why are you hiding him from me?” Isla insisted. An elegantly dressed guest snapped, arms crossed, phone already in hand. “Call the police! Who even is this woman?” “No one calls anyone,” I said, my
“Listen, I can report you for harassment!” Isla snapped, her eyes slightly unfocused and her voice uneven. “See my friend? She’s a lawyer!” The man flicked his gaze to the woman beside Isla. “Lawyer, my ass. My boss is a big shot at Westwood Corporation. You’re not fooling anyone. You’re here trying to land a rich guy.” My expression darkened. I didn’t recognize the man, but I knew everyone who reported directly to me, and he definitely wasn’t one of them. The nerve of this man, throwing my company’s name around while insulting two women. “Westwood Corporation?” Isla shot back, though her movements remained unsteady. “Then I must know your boss, because Lucas Westwood is my boyfriend!” The man scoffed. “If Mr. Westwood is your boyfriend, then I must be his long-lost brother!” Most people in the company were aware of the romantic history I’d tried to keep quiet. They must’ve figured I wasn’t dating anyone, considering I practically lived at the office. Just then, another man