CH-8

Valerio POV

I stand at the main gate of the company, my patience slowly burning away with every passing second.

The winter air is cold, sharp enough to bite the skin, but the chill does nothing to cool the irritation simmering inside me. My eyes remain fixed on the entrance, watching every person who walks out, waiting for one particular girl.

Isa.

My jaw tightens.

I had told her—very clearly—that I would drop her to college today.

Yet the girl seems to have developed a habit of ignoring my words.

A dangerous habit.

My fingers curl slowly into fists inside the pockets of my coat.

If she leaves for college without listening to me today… she will learn exactly why people think twice before crossing me.

The lift doors slide open.

And there she is.

A slow smirk spreads across my face.

She walks timidly toward the main door, her head slightly lowered, eyes glued to the floor as if the tiles beneath her feet are more interesting than the world around her.

For some reason, the sight pleases me.

She is not looking at anyone.

Not at the men passing by.

Not at the people greeting her.

Her attention remains entirely on the ground in front of her.

Good.

The moment her eyes lift and land on my car, recognition flashes across her face.

She hesitates for a moment before slowly walking toward it.

She reaches the car.

And opens the back door.

My eyes close slowly.

A pulse of irritation runs through me.

“What do you think?” I ask coldly, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Am I your driver, Your Highness?”

She freezes like a child caught doing something wrong.

Realization dawns across her face almost instantly.

She quickly shuts the back door and rushes around the car before opening the passenger door and slipping into the seat beside me.

I start the car without another word.

The silence inside the vehicle is thick.

Heavy.

Every time I speak harshly to her, something inside me twists with guilt.

But when it comes to Isa… I lose control.

And I hate losing control.

The car fills with the loud, irritating beeping of the seatbelt warning.

It continues.

Louder.

More persistent.

Yet Isa sits beside me completely lost in her own thoughts.

She does not move.

Does not react.

Does not even seem to hear it.

My grip tightens on the steering wheel.

Finally, I slam the brakes.

The car jerks to an abrupt stop.

She gasps softly and looks at me in confusion.

First at me.

Then outside.

Then back at me again.

Her brows knit together as if she genuinely has no idea what just happened.

Unbelievable.

When she still does not understand, I lean toward her.

Her reaction is immediate.

Her eyes widen, and she presses herself back into the seat, startled by the sudden closeness.

A dark smile forms on my lips.

Oh… this is interesting.

Slowly—deliberately—I reach for the seatbelt.

Instead of simply fastening it, I pull it slowly across her body.

My arm brushes against her chest.

My breath grazes the delicate skin of her neck.

Her entire body goes rigid.

Her breath catches.

Her chest rises sharply, as if she suddenly forgot how breathing works.

For a moment, she stops moving entirely.

I can almost hear the frantic beating of her heart.

Satisfied, I click the belt into place and lean back into my seat.

“I didn't realize I had hired deaf staff,” I say lazily as I resume driving. “Didn't you hear the seatbelt warning?”

Her cheeks flush instantly.

“I—I am sorry,” she stammers. “I was just thinking about my final exams.”

“Didn't you prepare?” I ask.

“No! No, sir. I did,” she says quickly. “I just have… pre-exam jitters.”

She fidgets nervously with the strap of her bag.

“I always get nervous before exams,” she continues. “Do you ever get nervous before exams, sir? Oh… I am sure you do not.”

She answers her own question quickly.

I glance at her.

This is the most I have ever heard her speak.

Normally she is quiet.

Reserved.

Careful with every word.

But today she is talking endlessly.

Her nerves are clearly unravelling her composure.

“You know,” she continues softly, “I even tried for the Oxford entrance exam once… but I couldn't clear it.”

She makes a small sad face.

Something tightens in my chest.

We reach the college shortly after.

I stop the car near the entrance.

She stares at the gate ahead of her like a soldier about to walk into battle.

Her fingers twist together anxiously.

She looks fragile.

Too fragile.

“Ahem… I think I should go?” she says softly.

“Isa.”

She turns toward me instantly.

Those innocent eyes meet mine.

“Don't be nervous,” I say quietly. “You'll do well.”

“You think so?” she asks.

“Yes.”

Without thinking, I take her hand in mine.

Her palm is warm.

Soft.

“I'll be here waiting,” I say.

Her eyes widen slightly.

“You'll wait?”

“Yes.”

Then, before I can stop myself, I lean forward and press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Good luck.”

She leaves the car in a daze.

I watch her until she disappears inside the building.

A smile tugs at my lips.

The girl who once avoided even my shadow allowed me to kiss her today.

God.

This girl will destroy me one day.

My mind drifts back to the first time I saw her.

She was sitting at a desk, completely absorbed in her work when I returned from Kenya.

Her hair was tied neatly in a ponytail.

Her posture straight.

Her attention entirely on the papers in front of her.

She did not even notice me standing there.

Which irritated me.

“Who are you?” I asked.

She looked up calmly.

“And may I ask who you are here to meet?”

I stared at her.

“You don't know me?”

“I suppose not,” she replied politely.

That stung.

“Valerio Barone,” I said slowly.

Her eyes widened.

“Oh! I am sorry. I am new here.”

She smiled.

And that smile—

God.

It was the most innocent thing I had ever seen.

Like a child.

Like something untouched by the ugliness of the world.

Mine.

The thought came out of nowhere.

I pushed it away immediately.

But the attraction had already taken root.

And it grew.

Every single day.

I tried avoiding her.

I insulted her.

I pushed her away.

But she kept smiling.

Somewhere along the way, her smile became my weakness.

Now if I do not see her for a single day, I lose my mind.

I even assigned one of my men to watch her.

To follow her.

To report every movement, she makes.

Sometimes I think I have become insane.

But the idea of not knowing where she is…

Who she is with…

What she is doing…

Drives me mad.

Students begin walking out of the campus.

And then I see her.

But she is not alone.

A man has his arm resting casually on her shoulder.

My blood turns to fire.

Rage explodes inside my chest.

Who the hell is he?

Why didn't my man report this?

She notices me.

Immediately she removes his hand and walks toward me.

The man follows.

“Sir… you're still here?” she asks.

I ignore the question.

“How was the exam?”

“I think I answered three questions wrong,” she says sadly.

I scoff internally.

Three wrong answers.

“Don't worry. You will not fail because of three mistakes.”

I sit in the car and look at her.

She is still standing outside.

With him.

“Do you need a special invitation?” I ask coldly.

“Umm… sir, I do not want to trouble you. He’s, my friend. He lives near my house. He can drop me.”

The idiot waves at me.

I ignore him.

“I don't like repeating myself,” I say quietly.

My tone leaves no room for argument.

She quickly says goodbye to him and sits inside the car.

I start the engine.

And drive away.

But inside me—

A violent storm is already brewing.

Because now I want to know one thing.

Exactly who the hell that man was.

And why his hand was on my girl.

*