CHAPTER 9

HAZEL

I got to work immediately.

I didn't look up at any of them. I didn't need to. I could feel every pair of eyes in that conference room sitting on me like a second skin.

The room had gone strangely quiet after Elvis handed me the laptop. Nobody was talking anymore, probably expecting me to struggle.

My fingers moved across the keyboard, and minutes later, I was done. It was honestly much easier than I expected.

Their backend had less protection than a social media account. Half of the security measures looked like they had been put there just to tick boxes rather than actually stop anyone. It was almost insulting.

If Mike had any idea how many solid, heavily fortified systems these hands had walked through, he would not have smiled at me the way he did.

"Done." I slid the laptop across to Elvis. "I accessed their backend and pulled some private user data. As you can clearly see."

Then I looked at Mike.

He was sweating. The conference room was cold enough to need a jacket, and this man was visibly sweating.

A bead rolled from his temple down the side of his face. I kept my face completely professional.

Guess who is having the last laugh, Mike.

"So this is it." Elvis's voice was quiet for exactly one second before his hand came down flat on the table, the sound cutting through the room.

Mike flinched; three other people across the table flinched. I was the only one who didn't move.

"A weak, poorly built application. You genuinely believe I have all the time in the world to sit in this city for this?"

Mike opened his mouth, but nothing useful came out.

His lips moved a few times before he finally managed, "We can improve."

Elvis wasn't interested. He was already standing.

I stood immediately and grabbed my things. Mike and the others scrambled to their feet, but Elvis was already walking, long strides, not looking back.

"I don't do basic, Mike. You know this."

He didn't wait for a response. He simply left.

I power-walked out of that conference room with as much strength as I could manage, which was moderately difficult given that Elvis moved like a man who genuinely believed everyone else's legs were the same length as his.

Struggling so hard to keep up. Can this man slow down even slightly?

We made it into the elevator, and I leaned back against the wall and yawned. My body was weak.

The combination of poor sleep, work, and travelling was beginning to catch up with me.

"Hungry?"

I looked up, and saw that he was watching me.

"That is the third time you have yawned in a row. Let's get something to eat." He paused as if he were being generous. "I hope you like Italian dishes. Creamy pasta, prawns, seafood."

I wasn't entirely sure whether he was asking or informing me, because by the time we reached the ground floor, we were already moving toward the car, which was already pulling out. The car stopped in front of a restaurant.

I followed him out of the car, with my laptop tucked under my left arm.

Elvis stopped walking and turned around.

"Leave the electronics." He looked at the laptop pointedly. "You are here to eat, not work."

I looked down at the laptop in my arms like I had forgotten it was there. I set it carefully in the car and followed him inside.

The restaurant was empty, just staff moving quietly and the two of us walking.

The place looked expensive. I leaned slightly toward Elvis as we were shown to our table.

"Sir, I think maybe their food isn't that great." I kept my voice low. "Look around, no customers at all. That is usually not a good sign for a restaurant."

Elvis sat down and picked up his menu without looking at me.

"Bought two hours of this place." He turned a page. "Technically, I own it right now. Strangers watching me eat is something I dislike."

I sat down across from him and said absolutely nothing.

My rich baby, Elvis.

Hazel, did you just say baby? Really?

But honestly, it felt exactly like those scenes in movies where the powerful man buys out the entire venue for one quiet evening with his queen.

I ordered the creamy pasta and the largest crab on the menu without any guilt whatsoever.

If someone else was paying, who was I to deny myself happiness?

What arrived at the table deserved a moment of silence.

The pasta was rich and smooth, and the crab was everything it had promised to be. I was completely gone.

The first bite alone nearly made me emotional.

It wasn't until I heard it that I realised I had been humming again.

Holy crab!

The old habit that had followed me since childhood, when the food tasted great.

I pressed my lips together and picked up my water glass.

He chuckled.

"You have quite an appetite."

He was smiling when he said it. This is so embarrassing. He looks quite entertained.

I set my cutlery down slowly.

"Sir. Do you mind waiting for me? There's a shopping mall next to us."

I tilted my head toward the window. "My period came unexpectedly, and I didn't pack enough. I need to run in and grab a few things. Some darker clothes, mostly, for the flight back."

He reached into his jacket without a word.

A black card landed on the table in front of me.

"Get whatever you need."

I stared at the card for a second.

No fucking way, a black card. I have only seen how it looks online, but holding it in my palms, I have a totally different feeling entirely.

I stood up, ran across the table, and hugged him.

“Thank you for being so rich.”