5

Salvatore’s POV

I sat in my luxurious leather chair, I couldn't help but feel a sense of power and control. I was sitting at my grand mahogany desk, working diligently on my sleek, high-tech laptop.

My fingers danced across the keyboard, putting together a symphony of illicit deals and carefully calculated moves. The soft hum of the laptop's fan provided a soothing background noise, allowing me to focus on the tasks at hand. The weight of my gold rings and the cool touch of my expensive watch served as constant reminders of the empire I had built.

Suddenly, the heavy oak door to my office creaked open, and in walked my assistant, Isabella. She was the only woman that had the right to walk into my office without having to ask for permission.

She was the epitome of beauty and seduction, with her long, flowing hair, piercing green eyes, and a figure that could make any man weak in the knees. Her outfit was a perfect blend of sexy and cute, a tight-fitting pencil skirt paired with a delicate silk blouse that underlined her curves in all the right ways.

"Good evening, Mr Salvatore," she purred, her voice like velvet as she greeted me with a sensuous smile. I couldn't help but admire her confidence and poise as she strolled across the room, her high heels clicking against the polished marble floor.

This was one of the many reasons I admired her, the way she always called out my name.

"Isabella," I acknowledged, my eyes never leaving the screen as I continued to work. "What can I do for you?"

She leaned against the edge of my desk, her gaze never wavering from mine. "I just wanted to see if you needed anything, boss. Perhaps a cup of coffee to help you power through the night?"

I paused for a moment, considering her offer. The thought of a steaming cup of rich, dark coffee was tempting, especially with the long night of work ahead of me. "That would be much appreciated, Isabella," I replied, finally tearing my eyes away from the laptop to meet her captivating gaze.

“Is that all? Are you sure you won’t be needing my body too?” She asked, biting her lower lip.

“I am very busy right now, some other day,” I answered, struggling with the tempting urge to forcefully push her to my desk and tear off her clothes.

With a flirtatious wink, she turned on her heel and gracefully exited the room, leaving me to my work and the anticipation of the caffeinated drink she would soon return with. As the door closed behind her, I couldn't help but feel grateful for her presence in my life, a beacon of light in the darkness of the mafia world.

Shortly after she returned with the coffee but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Isabella.

I had gotten a report last week that she was found talking intimately with one of my business rivals. For some reason I had a nagging suspicion that she was spying on me but I shoved the thought away, she was one of the honest workers I had.

If she wanted to hurt me, she would have started by blackmailing me with our dirty secret affair.

When Isabella brought me the steaming cup of coffee, her hands trembled slightly as she set it down on my desk. I noticed her furtive glances around the room, and her nervous demeanor only heightened my suspicions.

I decided to play along, feigning ignorance to her intentions. I asked her to fetch me a snack from the cafeteria in the building, hoping to buy myself some time to investigate.

As soon as she left the room, I quickly called the security team and asked them to review the CCTV footage, specifically focusing on whether Isabella had tampered with my drink. My heart raced as I awaited their response, the bitter taste of betrayal lingering in my mouth.

Her behavior had been increasingly erratic, and I was determined to uncover the truth. I decided to test her loyalty, and in doing so, I would become ruthless in my punishment if my suspicions were confirmed.

The security team confirmed my worst fears: “a powdered substance had been added to the coffee,” one of the security guards reported. I felt a cold fury wash over me as I realized the extent of Isabella's deception.

When she returned with my snack, I pretended to be dizzy, making her believe that I had consumed the spiked drink. In reality, I had poured it down the sink as soon as she left the room.

She took the bait, her eyes lighting up with a mixture of excitement and concern as she began to ask me confidential questions about my company.

“Where do all of your business ideas come from?”

“Lately I discovered you do not deposit any of your money in your bank accounts. Do you mind telling me where you hide them?”

These and more, were the many questions she asked. I played along, providing her with false information and watching as she greedily scribbled down my fabricated answers. The more she believed she was succeeding, the more I could see her true colors.

As our conversation drew to a close, Isabella made a move to leave my office, her eyes darting towards the door as if she couldn't wait to escape. I reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. I could see the fear in her eyes as she realized that her plan had failed, and I couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction.

"You think you're smart, right?" I hissed, my grip tightening on her arm as I prepared to exact my revenge on this traitorous assistant of mine, who had dared to cross me. The game was over, and it was time for Isabella to face the consequences of her actions.

“Lock her up in the dungeon.”