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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
In Conrad’s Office… “Boss, I apologize for the scheduling mix-up. Isla usually handles your calendar to keep everything organized, and I’m afraid I wasn’t prepared to take over that responsibility,” Conrad’s assistant said, shifting uncomfortably. Conrad’s expression darkened. “Is this what I’m paying you for? Scheduling is part of your basic duties, yet you’ve let Isla handle it?” The assistant fidgeted. “Y-You told us to let her handle it… because she uses that tool to map out your timeline. None of us knows how she does it.” Conrad’s frown deepened. He hadn’t realized how much heavier the workload would feel without Isla around. And she’d only been with the company a little over two years. “Where the hell is Isla? Tell her to come here!” “Uh…” The assistant scratched his head awkwardly. “What is it?” “Yesterday… I handed you her resignation letter. You signed her clearance. I asked if you wanted to say anything or respond, but you just said to take care of it.” “Re
Isla “Are you alright?” Lucas Westwood asked. I took a shaky breath. “About earlier... I’m really sorry. I know my emotions aren’t an excuse, but I was completely lost, Mr. Westwood. I didn’t intend to make you believe I was your date.” “It was my fault, too. I didn’t even check who I was supposed to meet today. The moment I saw you in the private room, I just assumed you were the one.” I couldn’t help but wonder why someone like him would need arranged dates. I mean—he’s Lucas Westwood. Women practically threw themselves at him. “Is your family trying to set you up with Elara?” I asked, unable to hold back the question swirling in my mind. He frowned. “Not exactly. My mother’s been pushing for grandchildren since I don’t have any... legacy under my name. I never planned to date anyone seriously, but when your sick mother asks for something, you’d promise her the moon.” That side of someone like him was unfamiliar to me. Lucas Westwood—the man who could see through any
A surge of resentment flared in Conrad’s chest, sharp and unexplained. One thing was clear—he wasn’t happy with how things had turned out. Earlier at the restaurant, the maître d’ had assured him that Isla had already arrived, but Conrad hadn’t caught even a glimpse of her. Instead, Elara had stormed into their private dining room, fuming about Lucas Westwood’s absence. The confusion only cleared when they questioned the staff and discovered that Lucas Westwood and Isla had left the place together. As much as Conrad wanted to feel relieved that Elara’s date had been canceled, he found himself utterly irritated knowing that Lucas had taken his girlfriend away. “How could those two be together?” Ethan asked, incredulous. “Do they even know each other? Was he one of your clients?” That was the only explanation Conrad could come up with. He scoffed. Was Isla really trying that hard to win him back, going as far as securing Lucas Westwood as a client? Landing Westwood Company woul
Lucas Confusion etched itself across my face. I remembered her telling me, “There was a misunderstanding...” I’d assumed she meant there were things she needed to handle, that she wasn’t supposed to be at the restaurant in the first place. But after speaking with my mother, she told me Ms. Foster had waited for me for hours at that restaurant. That’s when the pieces started falling into place, none of them fitting the picture I’d constructed. The woman I’d spent the evening with wasn’t the one who had arranged our blind date. They simply shared the same last name. A deep frown furrowed my brow. My jaw tightened as I watched Isla Foster hurry away from the vehicle, genuine fear flickering across her features. Just then, a woman stormed toward her, and something in me stirred: a need to protect Isla. “Isla! You bitch! I asked the restaurant who Mr. West—” She saw me emerge from the shadows behind Isla, and her words died in a strangled scream. “M-Mr. Westwood?” Her voice falte