<b>Chapter </b>279
ISADORA’S POV
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“I can see the fire in your eyes,dy, but you need to slow down. And you still haven’t told me what you n to do with her. You just said you had a n to yourself,” José said, his gaze steady on me, measuring me as though he were weighing every ounce of truth in my expression.
I pressed my lips together. He was right. I had danced around the edges of my intentions, but I hadn’t really told him the whole truth. Earlier, I didn’t want to.
But now… now he has opened up to me. He had shared his own bitterness, his own resentment, and that gave me leverage of my own. If I wanted him as a partner and I needed him I had to stop holding back.
“Yes, I do have a n,” I admitted finally, lowering my voice. My fingers curled tightly around the edge of the table as if gripping onto the words before they could run from me. “And with this n, we can both get what we want.”
His brows lifted, and he leaned slightly closer. “Okay,” he said evenly, “so why do you need me?”
I met his eyes without flinching. “I need you because I want to get into her home.”
That caught his attention. He tilted his head, his mouth curving into the beginnings of a smirk. “To do what?”
I held his stare. I wasn’t going to tell him everything yet but I gave him enough. “It’s part of my n. I need leverage, and that leverage is in her house. Once I get hold of it, she’s at my disposal. I’ll be able to tell her anything, and she’ll have no choice but to obey. Even if it means stepping down and making you CEO. She’d be cornered. She’d be finished.” My lips curved into a thin smile. “So basically, she’d be at your disposal too. You scratch my back, I scratch yours.”
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. His eyes didn’t leave mine though. He was studying me, testing the conviction behind my words. The silence stretched between us, heavy but not ufortable. It was the silence of calction, of two people realizing their hatred for the same enemy could turn into something much more dangerous.
Finally, the smirk returned to his lips. “So if I help you, we both get what we want,” he said. “I like that n already<i>.</i><i>” </i>His face brightened with something I hadn’t seen from him until now genuine satisfaction.
My heart gave a small jolt of excitement. This was it. The beginning of something bigger than myself.
“We obviously can’t keep talking here,” he continued, his voice lowering now, a conspiratorial tone sliding into it. “And this n of yours even though I don’t know much about it still needs to be nned out properly. Do you have somewhere we could talk better?”
I hesitated. The truth was, I didn’t. My apartment was nothing but a cramped, dingy ce with thin walls and nosy neighbors who liked to press their ears against doors. It wasn’t safe. Not for something like this.
“Not now,” I said, shaking my head. “My ce isn’t really… a good ce to have any conversation. But we can
still talk here.”
And just as the words left my mouth, the front door creaked open. The sharp sound of the bell above it rang
12:17 <b>Sun</b><b>, </b>Sep <b>21 </b>
out, and I froze.
My boss was back.
…
:.
Z63)
10 vouchers
His eyes scanned the café quickly, and of course, theynded right on me sitting across from a customer without my apron on, without standing behind the counter where I belonged. My stomach sank.
I shot up to my feet, slipping my apron back over my head so fast the strings nearly tangled. But it was toote. His face had already hardened.
“Now, I pay you to sit around with my customers, right?” His voice wasced with irritation, his tone sharp enough to cut.
Before I could even open my mouth, before I could exin, he turned to José. “Sir, I hope she isn’t disturbing you in any way.”
José’s gaze flicked between the two of us, thennded on me. For a second, I thought he might throw me under the bus. But then his lips twitched in amusement. “No,” he said smoothly. “In fact, I’m enjoying herpany.”
I almost sighed out loud in relief.
But my boss wasn’t amused. He gave me one more look a pointed, cutting look that said get back to work or else. Then, without another word, he stalked into his office and mmed the door behind him.
I clenched my fists at my sides, heat rising in my chest. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hurl my apron right back at him and tell him I was done. More than that, I wanted to punch him right in the face, just to wipe that smug expression he always wore. But I swallowed it down, biting hard on my tongue. Not now. Not yet.
Behind me, José’s voice broke the silence. “I’m pretty convinced we can’t talk here. That looked like your final warning. I don’t want to be the reason you lose your job.”
I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze over my shoulder. “I don’t even like the job,” I muttered under my breath, half to him, half to myself. “Which is why my n has to work.”
He stood up from his chair, slipping a card from the inner pocket of his jacket. His movements were precise, deliberate, like a man used to being in control. He held it out to me.
“Call me,” he said simply. “I’ll fix <b>a </b>ce for us to discuss more,”
I took the card, staring at the name embossed in neat letters, the number beneath it. My fingers lingered on the card longer than they should have, like it was a key to a door I had been dying to open.
By the time I looked up again, he was already walking toward the exit. He didn’t wait for my reply. He didn’t
need to.
The bell above the door jingled as it swung shut behind him, leaving me alone again in the quiet café.
<b>I </b>stared at the card for a few seconds longer, my thoughts a storm inside my head. My pulse thudded in my ears, faster and faster until I thought it might burst. Then, slowly, a breath escaped my lips.
This was it.
In a few days, Olivia would permanently be out of this world and out of my life for good.
A a