ログインDespite the internal fireworks going off, Isla kept her expression perfectly composed respectful, obedient, no trace of foul play whatsoever.But her eyes were a little too bright, a little too satisfied.I had the perfect alibi ready I stirred it right in front of everyone, so there's no way I could've slipped anything in. And that wasabi packet is already buried in the trash. No fingerprints, no evidence, nothing.He'll never suspect a thing.Grayson didn't look up. He kept flipping through the documents with one hand and reached for the cup with the other.Just as he lifted it, his hand clipped the edge of the coaster, and the cup tilted sharply.Isla lunged to catch it but hesitated, worried touching the rim would make him ask for a replacement cup entirely. Instead her fingers grazed the body of the cup itself. The coffee had cooled some, but the ceramic was still scalding, and the whole mess had been stirred vigorously with her own fingers moments ago.Her grip slipped. The whol
Marcus dragged his chair over next to the CEO's seat as well.Isla bowed her thanks and settled carefully into her chair.She sat stiff as a schoolkid on the first day of class hands neatly folded in her lap, back ramrod straight, eyes fixed dead ahead.This is the seat of honor. This is not a chair for someone like me. The guilt of sitting there was almost physical.She glanced sideways at Grayson. His posture radiated the same effortless refinement it always did.Not arrogant, not rushed, not impatient just calm, unhurried authority that filled the whole room without him lifting a finger.Isla, usually confident in her own right, felt reduced to a nervous, clueless intern the moment she sat this close to him.Focused. Serious. Not a hint of a smile. Every inch the domineering CEO.Her heart raced. Even seated, she felt weightless, like the whole scene wasn't quite real.Get it together, Isla.She'd meant to observe him quietly out of the corner of her eye and of course, that was exa
Isla became an instant office legend. She couldn't walk anywhere without catching a wave of smiles and hushed whispers.Meridian Group was full of polished, hyper-competent professionals sharp business instincts, commanding presence, the works. Isla, meanwhile, still had a soft, boyish roundness to her face and a quiet innocence about her, even dressed head-to-toe in office wear. Naturally, that made her an easy target for teasing.Isla kept her head down, chin practically to her chest, trying to shrink into invisibility.I am so mad right now. SO mad.She'd never felt this humiliated in her entire life. Her second day on the job, and already the whole company knew her name for the wrong reason entirely.She stormed into the break room craving a bubble tea and instead knocked back a mouthful of scalding, bitter black coffee. It burned. It tasted terrible. It made her question every life choice she'd made recently.Why does it feel like the curse I put on Grayson yesterday just boomera
"Oh no, I'm LATE!" Isla burst through the doors, face already twisted with dread. She'd been shoving down the breakfast the butler had packed while running, and there was way too much of it to finish.She was sprinting fast enough that when she skidded into the lobby, the sheer scale and formality of the scene stopped her cold. Momentum carried through anyway the pastry in her mouth flew straight out of her teeth, arcing forward, and slammed directly into the back of a man in a black suit standing a few feet away.My BREAKFAST.Hundreds of employees witnessed the entire tragedy unfold in real time.The silent, reverent lobby erupted into a collective, horrified gasp.Isla licked her lips, eyes darting wildly, and froze completely in place.A lamb. I am officially a lamb walking to slaughter.Her face went scarlet, eyes locked on the man slowly turning around, lips trembling with the beginnings of an apology that refused to actually form.Grayson's composed, distant expression turned o
Isla woke, came down for breakfast, then retreated to her room like she was fleeing a crime scene.Grayson's on the third floor. Stay put. Don't provoke anything.Married, living under the same roof, and yet everything about his actual life inside this house was a total mystery to her.She spent the rest of the weekend in a haze eating, sleeping, ignoring the nonstop barrage of calls from Richard and the rest of the Bennetts.By evening, Isla finished dinner alone in the estate's gleaming dining room. Just as she turned to head back upstairs, the butler stopped her.It's been a completely peaceful day. Do I really have to get an update the second I finish eating?Her stomach dropped, dread flooding back after hours of relative calm."The young master isn't feeling well. He'll be resting on the third floor tonight."Isla's slumped shoulders straightened instantly, a burst of pure joy flooding her chest.She fought hard to keep her expression appropriately concerned, but the happiness w
She felt the wheelchair stop on the other side of the bed. He arrived. He said nothing. He didn't move.The silence stretched, oppressive, unbearable.What does it feel like, knowing full well the man beside you is dangerous, and being completely helpless to do anything but lie there and let him decide what happens next?Isla gritted her teeth, rigid on the bed, trembling head to toe.Grayson stayed silent, seated in the wheelchair, watching her small, tense outline on the bed. The pressure radiating off him alone was enough to demolish whatever composure she had left.Whirr. A soft, mechanical sound.The automatic curtains, sliding open.Isla couldn't read him at all. She stayed dead still, praying he might assume she was asleep and let her off the hook for one night."If you're awake, stop pretending." His voice cut through the dark, rough and low.Isla flinched, her face going paler than the moonlight streaming in.Is he actually psychic? He sees EVERYTHING."Mr. Vale..." Isla forc







