Isabella’s POV

I shouldn’t be here.

Not at this hour. Not alone. Not with him.

The office was silent, long emptied of the day’s chaos, yet my heels echoed too loud across the marble as I approached the corner suite. Damien Cross’s office. The man whispered about in hushed voices and power plays. The man whose attention could make—or ruin—you.

I stopped at his door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

“Come in.”

His voice was smooth. Cool. Dangerous.

I stepped ...