CHAPTER 3

Zenna took several deep breaths. The company had called her the day before to inform her that the interview would be conducted today by none other than the CEO of La Fashionista, which was why she now found herself standing inside the towering building of the said company.

She felt like she was about to pee from nervousness. Her hands were cold, and her heart was pounding violently in her chest. She couldn’t understand why she was this anxious.

God. This was the first time she had ever felt this nervous. She, who had extensive experience in this field, was now outmatched in self-confidence even by beginners.

This wasn’t even the first time she had been interviewed by a company’s CEO. Back in Italy, the president of Armines Clothing Line had personally interviewed her. She had handled that just fine. She hadn’t been this nervous then.

“Ms. Lopez, the boss is ready to see you,” the CEO’s secretary announced.

She flinched at the sudden interruption.

The secretary knocked three times before opening the closed door. Stepping aside, she gestured for Zenna to go in.

She entered the room on trembling, cold feet. She held her breath when she saw the man standing with his back turned, gazing out the large glass window. Her heartbeat quickened even more when he spoke.

“Sit down, Ms. Lopez,” he said without even turning to look at her.

Her legs felt like jelly as she walked toward the couch near the office table.

His voice sent shivers down her spine. Why did it sound so familiar? Cold, serious, deep, and powerful. Even his voice alone screamed authority.

She carefully sat on the couch, her eyes fixed on the man’s back, who seemed to have no intention of facing her.

Did he intend to waste her time? Just because he was the boss, did he think he could do whatever he wanted—like making an applicant wait until he decided to begin the interview? Minutes passed, and she found herself staring at the clock on the wall, counting every tick of its hands. If she didn’t need the job, she would have already walked out of that office.

“Zenna Marianette Asuncion Lopez.”

Her gaze once again fixed on the man’s back. Her eyebrows furrowed. Was that a question? She doubted it.

Before she could respond, the man turned around.

It felt as if the ticking of the clock had stopped—just like her breathing—when she saw the CEO’s face. The man she never expected to see again was right in front of her, exuding an authoritative and dominant Tuscan air.

Her heart seemed to drop in that moment. She never thought she would see him again. And she certainly never imagined that he was the CEO of La Fashionista. What the hell?!

She shut her eyes tightly, thinking she must be hallucinating. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be the CEO of La Fashionista, she tried to convince herself. But a sharp laugh made her open her eyes. Only then did it sink in—this was real. The man she never expected stood right in front of her, wearing an arrogant and serious expression, yet still looking dangerously handsome.

“Matthew,” she muttered weakly as she stood up, trembling.

“Did I surprise you, Mari… I mean, Zenna?” he said sarcastically. The anger was too evident in his deep blue eyes.

She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

“You suddenly turned pale. Why? Did I startle you that much?” he smirked as he walked toward her.

The room was large, yet it felt suffocatingly small with just the two of them inside. She didn’t know what to do—whether to run out of the office and escape Matthew, or face him and pretend she didn’t know him. But before she could decide—

“You look like someone who committed a crime and ran away,” he said sarcastically.

She stiffened.

“I—I’m surprised, Señor. I didn’t know you were the CEO. H-how have you been?” she stammered, biting her tongue in frustration. Idiot.

A mocking laugh escaped from him.

“Drop the formality, honey. Why don’t you call me Matt instead—the way you called me under the moonlight one night in Viareggio?”

“Look, Mr. CEO, I came here to apply for a job, not to dig up the past. Two years was long enough to bury all memories of our one-night stand, Matthew,” she said. She was lying, of course. She had never truly buried the memory of that night she spent with him in Florence. Aside from Nate, a living reminder of that night, it also constantly haunted her dreams.

“Bury, huh? Nice game, woman. You play well. You bewitched me and ran off. Fuck you, Zenna.”

“What exactly are you so angry about, Matthew? It was just a one-night stand between us. You’re the man, so why are you the one acting like you lost something?”

She completely lost her patience. This man was driving her mad.

“I wish you were the one chasing, but why would you, huh, Zenna? Because what happened between us meant nothing to you? What else should I expect, right? You were more than willing when you gave me your V card,” he said mockingly.

Worthless? Did it really mean nothing to her?

She clenched her fists. She was just a second away from scratching that handsome face of his. He would regret insulting her—she would make sure of it.

“It just so happened that you were there. If I could turn back time, I would’ve found someone else to give my virginity to. I would never choose someone as arrogant as you, Mr. CEO.” Damn you, Zenna, for spouting another lie. Deep inside, she scolded herself for her words. She would never regret giving herself to Matthew. If it weren’t for him, Nathaniel wouldn’t exist in her life now.

His jaw tightened as he stared at her with anger. “So I’m lucky I was the one who scratched your itch.”

She almost fell onto the sofa when Matthew suddenly stepped toward her. He pulled her roughly, causing her to crash against his firm chest. He trapped her in his arms, leaving her unable to move. The scent of his expensive, masculine perfume assaulted her senses. It made her dizzy. It felt like it had only been yesterday when she had felt the same thing while being held in his arms. A strange heat spread through her stomach. But she couldn’t let herself be ruled by that feeling. Things were different now.

She struggled, only to freeze when she felt his bold hand on her backside. He groped her roughly before his hand slid upward to her nape. His touch sent shivers down her spine. She felt like jelly, melting in his hands.

“You did take something from me, Zenna. Have you forgotten, honey? You stole millions of my sperm that night, and I wonder… did we make good genes?”

Something hard pressed against her stomach, and when she realized what it was, she quickly pushed him away by the chest. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, but she couldn’t hold his gaze for long. He was smiling devilishly while staring at her flushed face.

He was right. She had stolen something from him. And if he ever found out that one of those stolen sperm had lived, he would surely wring her beautiful neck.

But no matter what happened, she would never let him know that they had a child. She didn’t want the simple life she had with Nate to be ruined.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Ricaforte. You have no responsibility toward me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Now, can we go to business, Ms. Lopez?”

His demeanor had already turned formal after scanning her from head to toe with a worldly gaze.

He moved on so quickly. In just a few seconds, he was acting as if there had been no tension between them, while her heart was still racing wildly. It was still beating erratically. Damn it. With just his touch, she was already melting.

“You don’t need to work in my company. I will give you another job that will suit you better.”

“Pardon?”

“Live with me. I will pay you well, Zenna—just live with me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m serious.”

“Then damn you! That will never happen!”

“Try me,” he challenged.

“I don’t want to! I have my own house!”

Damn it, that couldn’t happen. What about Nathaniel if that was the kind of job he wanted her to take?

“I don’t take no for an answer, Zenna. And don’t you dare run away from me again unless you want to crawl on the ground like a poor rat!” he threatened, making her blood boil.

“Who are you to tell me what to do?!” She could no longer hold back her anger and pointed a finger at him. Hell! Who cared if he was the CEO? “Remember this, Mr. Ricaforte—I don’t take orders from anyone, especially not from you. I won’t accept your filthy offer even if I become dirt poor! I hope this is the last time we ever see each other. Goodbye!”

She immediately turned her back on him, but he grabbed her arm forcefully. The strength of his pull made her crash against his chest again.

“Not so fast, Zenna. I’m not done yet,” he said firmly.

“Try me, Ms. Lopez, and I’ll make sure that the moment you step out of this building, you’ll regret it. The moment you set foot in any company you apply to, you’ll already be rejected. I’ll make sure no one hires your damn ass except me. You will work for me, Zenna—whether you like it or not.”

“You bastard!”

“Yeah, right. Why don’t you try this bastard, Zenna?” he smirked as if victorious, though anger flickered in his blue eyes as he locked gazes with her.

She didn’t even know how she got home. Her mind was blank when she left the La Fashionista building. The moment she opened the door, her child immediately ran into her arms. Exhausted, she carried him and kissed both his cheeks.

“Missed me, Mommy?”

“Of course, darling. I missed you the whole day.”

“Missed you too.”

He planted a kiss on her lips before looking for a present.

“Toy? Aewoplane?”

Being young, he still struggled to pronounce the letter “r.”

He had been asking for one for a long time, but she hadn’t bought it yet. She planned to take him to a toy shop once she found a job. She needed to prioritize their household needs first.

“Oh, sorry, darling. Mommy didn’t get to go to the toy shop today. On Sunday, after we go to church, we’ll buy an airplane.”

“Pwamis, ‘My?”

“Promise, darling.” She kissed him again and set him down on the floor.

Nathaniel loved toy airplanes. He couldn’t take his eyes off the TV whenever *Planes* was showing.

He was truly her stress reliever. With just one kiss from her child, all her exhaustion disappeared.

Then she remembered what had happened earlier—the anger and threatening look on Matthew’s face, his offer. No. Even if she ran out of savings, she would never accept it. For what? To become his plaything?

Did he even say that? her mind mocked. No—but it was basically the same thing. She had a strong feeling about it. Why else would he want her to live in his house?

***

THE very next day, she decided she would look for another company to apply to. She needed to avoid Matthew. She wouldn’t give him what he wanted. She was a mother now—she wouldn’t let herself be kept and turned into someone’s mistress.

Yeah, right. He wanted her to be his mistress. Damn, Matthew. Hadn’t he once thought she was a gift for his stag party? He was married now—so why was he still asking her to live with him?

Zenna had cursed Matthew Sylvester Ricaforte countless times in her mind. There was no doubt he was the reason why not a single company accepted her application. What he said was true—the moment she stepped into any company she applied to, she was already rejected. The receptionists kept giving her excuses. She couldn’t even get past the reception. It was obvious they still hadn’t hired a designer, yet all she heard was, “Sorry, ma’am, the position has already been filled.”

She needed to find a job as soon as possible, or her savings would run out. Her feet eventually brought her back in front of the La Fashionista building. It seemed she had no other choice. Matthew was influential, and if she kept resisting, things would only get harder—worse, even her child might be affected.

“Do you have an appointment with Mr. Ricaforte, ma’am?” the receptionist asked.

She shook her head. “Personal matters. Where is he?” Her irritation was evident, and the receptionist seemed to notice.

“I’m sorry, but you need to have—”

“She’s my brother’s fiancée, Mandy.”

A baritone voice interrupted, startling both her and the receptionist. They turned to see a man who had just arrived and stood beside her. He was dressed entirely in black, his muscular build evident beneath his fitted shirt.

“Good afternoon, Sir Markus. I’m sorry—I didn’t know she was Sir Matthew’s fiancée,” the receptionist said in a panic. The woman glanced at Zenna nervously, so despite her discomfort, Zenna managed to give her a small smile. The receptionist had nothing to apologize for—she was just doing her job, and Zenna wasn’t even the boss’s fiancée.

“Let’s go,” the man said, pulling her along as if she had no right to protest.

He only released her arm once they were inside the elevator. Irritated, she turned to him, only to be startled by the sharpness of his gaze.

“Another gold digger? What do you want from my brother?”

What the hell was he talking about?

“Excuse me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Let me guess—you’re going to ask him for money? Claim he got you pregnant and demand support? Or were you sent by someone to trap him?”

She clenched her fists as anger surged through her, but the arrogant man merely sneered.

Before she could respond, the elevator doors opened, and he stepped out.

The secretary didn’t question her when she saw who Zenna was with. Without warning, the man pulled her hand again and led her straight into the CEO’s office.

“Matthew Sylvester—”

Matthew, who had been busy with paperwork, raised his head with a frown. His eyes briefly scanned her before settling on the hand gripping her.

“Take your filthy hand off her, Markus!” Matthew glared at his brother.

Markus smirked before releasing her.

“So you know this woman?”

“That’s none of your business. When did you arrive?”

“Just now. I dropped by to check on you. But it looks like I shouldn’t stay long. When are you going back to Italy?”

“No plans yet.”

“Aunt asked me to convince you to come home.”

Matthew’s jaw tightened.

“Not while Rufus is there.”

“You mean our father, brother. Just give them a chance. If true love struck them, there’s nothing we can do.”

“Shut the fuck up, Markus! You’re the only one he acknowledged as his son!”

Zenna stepped back at the force of Matthew’s shout. His face was filled with anger as he locked eyes with his brother. She hesitated, unsure whether to leave or stay.

“Fool! You’re a Ricaforte, Matthew. That’s the surname you’ve carried since the day you were born. Grow up, brother. You’re acting like a whining child.” Markus cast her a glance before walking out of the room.