THIRD PERSON POV

“I will not accept this presentation without your boss. He is supposed to be here to present the project. I planned everything together with him,” the man said angrily.

Matteo stood quietly against the doorway, watching the scene unfold.

No one had noticed his presence yet, and he was certain that none of them would recognise him. He had never set foot in this branch of the company since it was opened in Los Angeles.

That was exactly how he wanted it, for now.

To see for himself what kind of people were running this branch and whether the reports he had received were true.

So far, he wasn't impressed.

“What’s going on here?” Matteo finally asked.

His voice immediately caught the attention of the short, bespectacled man standing near the conference door.

The man had a pair of glasses sitting precariously low on his nose, while the top of his head was almost completely bare. There was hardly a strand of hair left on it.

Let’s just say he was unmistakably bald.

The man barely glanced at Matteo before answering.

“This is Mr Swift. He is one of our long-time clients. We handle their flyer and poster designs,” he explained. “Mr Phil was supposed to present the project to him today, but he didn’t show up. Again.”

He shook his head.

“Only heaven knows what is wrong with him this time.”

“Hmmm.”

Matteo's eyes briefly settled on the bald man's head.

At least someone seemed to be taking his job seriously.

When he had arrived, he had already assumed that everyone in this branch was a bunch of irresponsible employees. Apparently, there was at least one person who understood what it meant to work.

“Mr Swift, I assure you that Mr Phil is probably going through something in his personal life,” a woman interrupted, stepping forward. “But I promise you that he will be available tomorrow to present the project himself.”

Matteo's attention shifted to her.

He looked at her for a moment longer than he intended.

She was the youngest woman in the room.

Her fitted blouse hugged her figure, while her skirt fell neatly around her body. Something was striking about her appearance. She looked professional, yet undeniably captivating.

Beautiful.

Exceptionally beautiful.

No wonder Erica had told him that Alex could barely take his attention away from her.

Isla Hart.

That was her name.

The woman who had supposedly destroyed his sister's marriage.

The woman Matteo had come all the way to Los Angeles to deal with.

His plan had been simple.

He would destroy her life the same way he believed she had destroyed his sister's.

But then Isla turned toward the doorway.

Their eyes met.

And suddenly, Matteo forgot every thought he had been holding.

Her eyes were an unusual shade of ocean blue, clear and striking enough to hold his attention against his will.

Neither of them looked away.

For several long seconds, they simply stared at each other.

The noise in the room seemed to disappear.

The people around them became nothing more than distant figures.

Matteo's jaw tightened.

No way.

He couldn't believe the effect this woman was having on him.

One look.

That was all it had taken.

The woman he had come here to hate had managed to make his body react before his mind could remind him exactly who she was.

His attraction irritated him.

He immediately tore his gaze away.

She's a bitch.

A brazen bitch.

He forced himself to look toward the short man standing beside him instead.

He had questions.

And he intended to get answers.

----

Isla was confused.

She couldn't understand why her heart had suddenly started racing simply because she had looked at a stranger.

In all her life, she had never reacted to a man like this.

Not even once.

Was it because of his strong physique?

His neat appearance?

Or perhaps it was simply because he was unbelievably handsome?

Whatever the reason, she hated the strange fluttering sensation in her chest.

No, Isla.

You've promised yourself never to allow a man to make your heart race again.

She was almost appalled by herself.

This was shameless.

Absolutely shameless.

“Are you okay?”

Mr Swift's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Y-yes,” she stammered, quickly clearing her throat. “I am fine.”

Mr Swift frowned.

“It seems you've gone pale. Don't take this too seriously. I don't want anyone collapsing because of me.”

“I am fine, sir,” Isla assured him.

The older man studied her for another moment before finally nodding.

“Okay, fine. Because of you, I will give you until next week. If my presentation isn't ready by then, however, all hell will be let loose.”

Isla nodded gratefully.

“Thank you, Mr Swift. Thank you for giving us another chance.”

She smiled, and the older man nodded.

Relief washed over her.

At least Mr Swift had decided to give them more time.

And, perhaps more importantly, he had managed to pull her attention away from the breathtaking stranger at the door.

She had barely taken another breath when she felt a small tap on her arm.

She turned.

The smile immediately disappeared from her face.

Mr Griffen.

The man she knew hated her and everything she represented in the company.

Griffen was cold-eyed, mean-spirited, and bad-mouthed. His aggressive personality somehow seemed to match his short stature.

Without saying anything, he motioned for her to come closer.

Isla reluctantly stepped toward him.

“Your attention is needed,” he said.

His eyes travelled down to her cleavage with such blatant insolence that she immediately gritted her teeth.

“Alex's office. Now.”

The moment Isla heard Alex's name, her irritation shifted.

A small smile appeared on her face.

That was the name that had been on her mind since yesterday.

Alex Phil.

Her boss.

The man who had recently become increasingly careless about the company.

It seemed as though he no longer took their work seriously, and lately, his absence had become worse.

Isla turned toward the people in the boardroom.

“Excuse yourself and go,” Griffen instructed.

As he moved past her, his hand brushed against the side of her breast in a way that felt deliberate.

Isla stiffened.

She was certain he had done it intentionally.

He wanted a reaction from her.

But during her seven months at the company, she had learned one important lesson.

Arguing with Griffen was never worth the trouble.

So she ignored him.

She took one final glance around the room before walking out.

“That girl is a credit to the company,” Mr Swift remarked after Isla had left.

Griffen's expression hardened.

“It is easy to judge a person by their outward appearance,” he replied coldly. “Trust me, you wouldn't be saying that if you caught her in bed with your son-in- law behind your daughter's back.”

The contempt in his eyes was unmistakable.

---

Isla quickened her pace as she made her way toward Alex's office.

She was angry.

Very angry.

She intended to give her boss a piece of her mind.

When she reached his office, she found the door closed.

She didn't bother knocking.

She pushed it open and walked inside.

“Mr Alex Phil, I am so angry with you!”

She didn't even bother closing the door behind her.

“Where have you been all day? You've let everyone down. Even Mr Swift, the last client we've been struggling to keep!”

Silence.

Isla frowned.

Alex's chair was facing away from her.

All she could see was the back of an extremely white shirt. His suit had been casually hung over the back of the chair.

“Mr Phil, I don't think silence is going to help you at this moment.”

Still nothing.

Isla walked closer to the desk.

“Alex, I really think you need to—”

“It's not Alex.”

The smooth, deep voice stopped her.

There was something unfamiliar about it.

Something that made her pause.

A faint foreign accent lingered beneath the words.

The chair slowly turned.

Isla froze.

Her eyes widened.

It wasn't Alex.

It was him.

The handsome, tall, dark-haired man from the boardroom.

He was sitting comfortably in her boss's chair as though he had every right to be there.

For several seconds, Isla couldn't make sense of what she was seeing.

Who was this man?

Why was he sitting in Alex's office?

And why was he looking at her like that?

Her confusion was quickly joined by the strange tingling sensation she had experienced earlier.

She hated it.

She hated the way her heart was suddenly beating faster.

She hated the way his presence seemed to fill the entire room.

Most of all, she hated the way his eyes travelled slowly over her.

From the top of her neatly styled hair to the tips of her shiny black leather court shoes.

The scrutiny made her feel as though he were stripping away every layer of her carefully maintained composure.

Isla stiffened.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

The man didn't answer.

Instead, he continued to look at her with that unreadable expression.

Isla's irritation grew.

“What right do you have to be in here?”

Still, he said nothing.

His silence only infuriated her further.

She folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin.

“I asked you a question.”

For the first time, something shifted in his expression.

It was almost amusement.

Almost.

And somehow, that irritated her even more.

She had no idea who this man was.

But one thing was certain.

He had walked into Alex's office, taken her boss's chair, and was looking at her as though he owned the place.

Isla wasn't going to let him intimidate her.

Not even if every instinct in her body was telling her that this stranger was trouble.