1

“Watch where you’re going next time.”

The voice was deep, cold, and commanding.

Isabella looked up, frowning—just in time to see the back of a tall man in an elegant black suit walking away without even glancing at her.

“What? You should be the one watching where you’re going!” she snapped, but he had already vanished into the crowd.

She sighed heavily. “Great. Just great. Can this day get any worse?” she muttered under her breath.

Bending down, she gathered the scattered documents across the lobby floor. “I stayed up all night organizing these files for today’s presentation, and now this happens…” she grumbled, brushing the dust off a folder.

Unbelievable. He bumps into me, and I get the blame.

Once everything was back in order, Isabella hurried inside, clocked in, and half-ran up the stairs toward the second-floor meeting room.

The moment she opened the door, her heart stopped. Everyone was already seated—her manager, Mr. Luiz, and several important clients.

“Good morning. I’m terribly sorry for being a little late,” she said politely, bowing slightly to hide her panic.

“Why not just come at noon while you’re at it?”

That cold voice again. Isabella froze.

She turned toward the speaker—and her blood ran cold.

No way. It was him.

The man from the lobby.

Oh, God. Don’t tell me he’s our client?!

Her face drained of color. She bit her lower lip unconsciously.

“Isabella, why are you still standing there? Sit down. The meeting’s about to start,” Mr. Luiz reminded her.

“This is Mr. Maximilian Martez, our client. He’s entrusted our firm to design the cover for his new product line.”

Maximilian Martez. So that’s his name.

Isabella forced a polite smile and quickly sat down. Inside, she was silently praying he wouldn’t recognize her. But luck clearly wasn’t on her side.

“Do you always behave like this?” Maximilian’s cold voice cut through the air.

“I—excuse me?” she stammered.

“What time did you leave home this morning?”

“Seven twenty, sir.”

He arched a brow. “So you gave yourself ten minutes to get here? If you worked for me, I would’ve fired you already.”

Isabella swallowed hard. You’ve got to be kidding me. I was late because of you!

“I’m sorry, sir. There was a small... accident downstairs.”

“Oh? So now you’re making excuses?” Maximilian replied flatly. “If everyone used that logic, the world would stop working.”

Sharp tongue, perfect suit. What a delightful combination, Isabella cursed silently, lowering her head further.

Mr. Luiz quickly stepped in. “Mr. Martez, we apologize for the delay. Shall we continue with the presentation?”

Maximilian was silent for a moment before answering coolly, “Go ahead. Out of respect for you, I’ll give you twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, Mr. Martez.”

Isabella inhaled deeply. Twenty minutes? Fine. Watch me impress you.

She turned on the projector and began her presentation. Her voice trembled at first, but soon steadied. She explained each of the seven design concepts confidently.

When she finished, the room fell silent.

Then Mr. Luiz clapped softly. “Excellent work, Isabella.”

Others nodded in agreement—except Maximilian, who leaned back in his chair, unreadable.

“Impressive,” he murmured. “Smart ideas... but still, poor discipline.”

Isabella forced a polite smile. Perfect man, irritating personality.

That evening, after hours of overtime, she stretched her arms and sighed. “Finally done…”

She packed her things quickly, hoping to catch the last bus home.

Her phone buzzed.

Samantha:

Hey, I stopped by your place to return your book, but you’re not home yet?

Isabella:

You could’ve told me! I’m on my way now.

Samantha:

Had to run before Mom tries to set me up again. Your book’s on your desk. Let’s hang out this weekend!

Isabella smiled faintly. Her mother had been hinting about marriage a lot lately. The problem was—she didn’t even have a boyfriend.

After her father’s death four years ago, she had been the one supporting her ailing mother.

Ten minutes later, she arrived home.

“I’m home…”

The gate wasn’t locked. Strange.

When she entered, she found her mother sitting with a guest—Mrs. Martez.

“Oh, you’re home,” her mother greeted warmly.

“Yes, Mom.” Isabella put her bag down and smiled. “Aunt Martez, it’s been a while. How have you been?”

The older woman chuckled softly. “I’m well, dear. I’ve just been busy. My younger son recently came back from overseas. He’ll be settling here for good.”

“Oh, Miguel’s back?” Isabella smiled. “That’s wonderful. You won’t be lonely anymore.”

They laughed together for a while—until Mrs. Martez’s expression softened.

“Isabella,” she began gently. “I didn’t just come to catch up. There’s something important I want to talk about.”

Isabella turned to her, curious. The woman hesitated, glancing at her mother, then back at her.

“My dear, your mother and I have talked about this for quite some time. We… we’d like to see you married—to Miguel.”

The word married echoed in Isabella’s mind.

Her heart skipped a beat. She looked at the two women she loved most, hoping one of them would laugh and tell her it was a joke. But no—there were only expectant eyes and gentle smiles.

“Married?” she whispered.

Both women nodded in unison.

“But, Aunt… surely Miguel already has someone in his life?” she asked carefully.

Mrs. Martez shook her head with a fond smile. “Not yet. Miguel and his brother are both buried in work. I just want to see one of them settle down and find happiness. You and Miguel used to be close—it won’t be hard for you two to reconnect.”

Used to be... ten years ago.

Isabella almost laughed, if only it didn’t hurt so much.

“Aunt—” she began, but before she could continue, Mrs. Martez clasped her mother’s hands in excitement.

“Oh, Adeline, we’ll soon be in-laws!” she exclaimed with delight.

The two women began chattering joyfully, already imagining a future that Isabella had never agreed to. Neither of them seemed to notice her uneasy silence.

Finally, she spoke up, her voice calm but firm. “Aunt—Mom, please stop and listen to me.”