1
Apparently, I have been fired.
I am about to find out exactly why I have been let go when this whole company is supposed to be mine. No one has as much power as me within Glamorous, so the letter in my hand is meaningless.
My footsteps echo down the hallway with each heel-strike against the marble floor as I pass by managers’ offices on the thirtieth floor of the Glamorous building. The faint murmurs of hushed conversations and the shuffling of feet and papers pierce my ears as I pass. My heart pounds, and I brace myself for something big as I stride past everyone to the end of the hallway.
This tall building will be under my name. This is all mine.
All that is left is the announcement.
My younger sister has no interest in Glamorous, too busy with her own fashion line. But these two towers? They are mine. I am about to inherit the empire my father has built, and nothing will stop me.
Not even this piece of paper.
I reach the brown oak door decorated with a golden plate.
Chief Executive Officer.
Under it will be engraved Ambrose Torre. That thought alone has me jittery with happy nerves.
Opening the door to the office, I walk inside, ready to set in place whoever sent me this letter, but I come to a screeching stop.
It’s not the temporary CEO the company assigned, obvious from the lack of grey hair and the missing beer belly.
Rather, a man I have never seen before is in his place. He’s tall and dressed in a midnight-black suit. The double-breasted suit highlights his lean figure and long legs. My gaze catches on his polished shoe, which is casually crossed over his other knee. My eyes glide up his body, and I suck in a sharp breath at the intensity rolling off him.
It feels as if the whole office is holding a breath as our eyes collide.
He has the deepest emerald-green eyes I have ever seen. A faint scar runs down his left eyebrow to his eyelid, and the sharpness around his features gives him a distinct serpentine aspect.
Something about the darkness within the office and his ability to stop me in my tracks, to have my heart thumping loud enough to be drumming in my ears, has me in a chokehold. His jet-black locks of hair fall into his eyes and yet it looks neat, intentional, enhancing his predatory look.
There is a twisted smirk on his lips, lips that taunt.
“Who are you?” My voice is steady, despite how I feel under the attention of those snake eyes.
Nothing about him seems normal. Not his wicked smirk, his dark eyes, and certainly not the fluid way he moves as he walks around the table. His intense gaze has me captivated, unable to escape the trap he has put me in, no matter how hard I force myself to look away from his eyes. The wicked look in them almost has me stepping back in fear he may pounce on me to destroy me, to eat me alive.
My fingers tighten around the piece of paper in my hand. The crinkle sounds too loud in the quiet office.
“Miss Ambrose Torre.”
My name drips like poison from his lips. A sweet poison that makes me swallow hard. It jerks at my stomach, like he is holding my heart and twisting the organ until pain pierces my chest at just the mention of my name.
“I have been waiting for you. Did you receive my gift?”
Crossing my arms, I keep my eyes levelled with his. I won’t let him intimidate me, no matter the intensity with which he looks at me. I have a feeling that few people can look him in the eyes.
“So you sent me this joke? Do you know who you sent this letter to?” I scrunch the paper into a ball and throw it at his face.
He closes his eyes, inhales, then slowly opens them, fixing his cold gaze on me.
The atmosphere shifts in the room. Those calm, dark emerald eyes turn cruel, and within an instant, his face is right in front of mine. My heart leaps.
I almost take a step back. Almost.
The smell of gardenia and dark musk wafts across my face, then curls around me like a snake suffocating its prey. I can only focus on his green eyes. That scar around his left eye taking my focus for a second. He looks the epitome of a venomous serpent.
His eyes drag over me, analysing me, searching for something, a predator studying the vulnerabilities of its prey.
I truly believe there is something sinful and immoral under that cold smirk. I also know he is one of those people who could easily walk someone to their own demise.
“Keep your attitude in check, Ms Torre. Especially since I’m the person who has the ability to blacklist you from every and any company in not only London but the whole of the United goddamn Kingdom.”
My spine straightens.
“How dare you threaten me like this? This office you are standing in? It’s mine. This whole building is mine, and I will be damned if I let someone like you talk to me like this,” I grit out, taking a step away from him, keeping my distance.
The audacity of this man to think he can control and command me like this…
“You have no idea what territory you are walking into,” I bite out, barely clinging to the calm tone I need.
The man lets out a humourless laugh, and it feels wrong. Like I shouldn’t be the one talking to him like this. I don’t know him, and I sure as hell don’t know what he wants from me or why he’s here. Why is he so hell-bent on getting me to leave?
“Oh, this is going to be fun. I’m going to love watching you come crawling back to beg me to grant you a position within your own company. Go do your homework before you come barging in like this with such a disgusting, entitled attitude, little girl.”
My mouth drops open with an inaudible gasp.
I take a step back from him as I look around the office, but nothing is out of place. Everything is as it always has been. So what changed?
What is he implying?
Papers fly in my direction. About ten of them land at my feet, covering my heels. The man turns, then strides around the desk. He sinks into the large leather chair and leans back, his watchful eyes on me. Hate slowly fills those cold, dark green eyes, like water poisoned by black ink.
“How dare you throw—”
“Are you raising your voice at me?” He lifts a mocking brow.
Unease and a sick need to throttle him fill me. Rage burns through my veins. Power oozes from him; though he doesn’t look like he should be here in this office. He’s not refined enough, and there is something deadly about him. I feel certain that if I were to ever cross him, the consequences would be me losing everything.
“Watch that attitude of yours. The mercy I am showing you could easily be retracted. You wouldn’t want to displease your employer now, would you?”
Everything around me stops as I try to wrap my head around this information. Everything is slowly slipping out of my grasp.
“Pick up the papers, and you will realise what you just lost.” he continues.
The office starts to spin, and a faint headache flares to life behind my eyes.
“As of two days ago, I am the new Chief Executive Officer of Glamorous Magazine, and you have been fired. Effective immediately.”
My eyes flick to the papers at my feet. There’s a picture and a headline on one of them. I bend down to grab that one. The man before me stands next to my sister’s husband at a press conference I wasn’t invited to. The headline announces him as the new CEO, placed in that position by Remo Cainn.
Helia Nashwood. The new face of Glamorous.
A line of text catches my attention. The stock price of the magazine is now expected to rise.
In the picture, he actually looks part of this charade he is putting on. He looks like he fits in, with his black suit and eyes that showcase dreams of making this company reach new heights.
Red fills my vision. This whole thing was done by Remo Cainn and this man, Helia Nashwood, behind my back. I don’t know what their agenda is, but I will figure it out. How dare he steal what is rightfully mine?
I take a deep breath.
“Is this some sick joke?” I walk over to the desk and slam the papers with his face on it on the shining surface.
When my eyes connect with his, it’s a declaration of war. A war of leaders fighting with their full power, trying to kill each other.
“I do like to think I am funny, but in this case, I haven’t thrown out a joke yet.”
I grit my teeth. He wants me to fight, and he wants to decimate me. He wants to see me lose. I can see it in the fierceness behind those eyes.
“I don’t even know you, but you think I will succumb to your little threats?” I grit out, my hands turning clammy.
He clicks his tongue as he looks to the side, the tendons in his neck throbbing. My eyes trace the line of this throat, then catch on a tattoo that peeks out from under his black dress shirt. I clench my jaw and force myself to ignore any hint of curiosity about the tattoo. I need to focus on the task at hand. I will not back away from him.
“You will quickly realise just how much of a mistake you are making by not walking away. I know how to bring people like you to their breaking point, and I’ve just happened to find myself a new little target. A fierce one with a pretty face and an ugly personality.”
My hands tighten into fists. I want to scream in his face, but I am not that stupid. I can admit just how easily he snatched all my power from me.
I am intelligent enough to know just how hard it will be to fight Helia Nashwood.
The devil with emerald eyes.