Chapter 33
Aria was still worried about Isabella. She could sense something was off with her body: "Did he force himself on you in the office? Oh my God, this Vitale is too intense. I really should have taken you away."
Isabella took a deep breath, forcing herself to pull away from those embarrassing memories.
"It's nothing, honey. You should help me forget, not remind me of those things."
Aria pressed her hand to her chest guiltily: "Sorry, I didn't realize you'd be so sensitive about it. I just wanted to care about you."
She studied her friend's expression carefully and asked tentatively: "Did he give you a contract requiring you to respond within a deadline?"
"Yes." Isabella nodded wearily.
"Then let's go back and talk to Amira about what to do," Aria suggested. "You could also ask your father—maybe you'll get some guidance from God. Tell me once you've decided. I just want you to be happy, my friend."
Isabella hugged her gratefully.
The two left the restroom and headed back to their respective posts.
When Isabella pushed open Vitale's office door, he was leaning back leisurely in his leather chair, hands crossed on the desk, a confident smile on his lips.
"I knew you'd come around, my little gambler."
Isabella turned away to take a deep breath, then faced Vitale again with a perfect professional smile: "Yes, Mr. Luca. I'm ready to start work now. What documents do you need me to prepare?"
"Mrs. McKenna will be here soon." Vitale gestured toward the reception area. "Prepare a cup of coffee first, then explain the travel company situation to her."
He paused meaningfully: "That's right—Carter is the actual controller of that company. Amboni is just the nominal manager. I'm leaving this matter to you. Can you handle it?"
"Of course."
Ten minutes later, a middle-aged lady in a mink coat stormed aggressively into the office.
Carter didn't even bother with greetings, throwing her handbag directly onto the sofa.
"This is ridiculous! How could there be anything wrong with my company?" Her sharp gaze swept over Isabella. "A little girl dares to boss me around?"
Isabella calmly offered the coffee: "Mrs. McKenna, your coffee."
"Look at those skinny arms and legs!" Carter knocked the coffee cup away. The dark brown liquid splashed onto Isabella's skirt. "I was running companies before you were even born, little girl!"
Isabella's expression didn't change: "Exactly—I'm young, and you're already old. Also, let me remind you, this is Tyson Group, not a place where you can throw tantrums."
"You dare threaten me?" Carter narrowed her eyes.
Isabella took a seat gracefully, not offering a second cup of coffee: "Yes, I am threatening you. If you think you can shift all the blame away, you're mistaken."
"You know very well whose money that is. You can't swallow it, and Tyson Group will never take the fall for you."
Isabella lifted her own coffee cup for a sip, then suddenly noticed a line of small text engraved at the bottom: "For my Isabella."
Isabella's heart suddenly lost control.
Vitale had this specially prepared?
God, this was like having an affair right in front of Carter—both thrilling and terrifying.
When Isabella's fingertips touched the engraving on the cup, she felt like she'd been struck by electricity.
The elegant script instantly transported her back to that passionate night.
The second time Vitale lifted her onto the windowsill, moonlight outlined his silhouette in silver.
He held her buttocks, each deep thrust making her tilt her head back and gasp.
"God, you're so tight inside." Vitale's breath was hot against her ear, his pace getting faster and faster. "I want to shoot my name into your body, make you remember this feeling forever."
At the time, Isabella was drowning in desire, and those words had washed over her consciousness like a distant tide.
Now, thinking back, he'd already planned to leave a permanent mark on her life.
So he still hadn't given up on that terrifying idea?
God, just thinking about that thing of his entering her body made her feel damnably hot.
Isabella, you're not a slut. You need to control yourself. You need to control this damn mafia boss Vitale.
Isabella put down the cup with forced composure, but the shrewd Carter still caught something.
"Look at me when you're talking!" Carter sneered. "What are you thinking about? Your expression is as lewd as a cat in heat."
Isabella's body trembled, then steadied. She couldn't let Vitale think she was useless, and she couldn't lose to this shrieking Carter.
Isabella raised a professional smile: "You're mistaken, Mrs. McKenna. Now, I'd like you to account for where those funds went. If you insist on lying, I don't mind calling the police directly. Of course, maybe I won't need to—someone might teach you a more profound lesson first."
Under Isabella's airtight questioning, Carter eventually revealed the truth reluctantly.
After sending off the difficult lady, Isabella immediately threw herself into intense work.
Checking accounts, organizing old files, assisting Vitale with new clients.
Lunchtime became torture.
Vitale deliberately chose the most secluded corner of the restaurant, using the tip of his shoe to gently rub against Isabella's calf under the table.
She couldn't taste the food at all and had to control her voice. It was too much.
And he barely touched his utensils, spending the entire time enjoying her discomfort.
It wasn't until quitting time, when Aria came to take her home, that Isabella remembered she hadn't signed the contract yet.
She'd deliberately avoided it all day, still harboring resentment about Vitale's forceful methods, and with the busy work, she'd completely forgotten about it.
On the bus home, Isabella finally took out the contract from her bag.
Among the normal job requirements were many of Vitale's personal demands.
Article 14: Must prepare coffee for the CEO daily;
Article 27: Must assist the CEO with arranging his attire;
Article 33: Must provide "special assistance" when the CEO requires it...
These clauses made Isabella involuntarily recall this afternoon, when Vitale had pulled off his tie and casually tossed it on his desk.
Even more embarrassing, she found herself remembering when Vitale had once used his tie to bind her wrists behind her back, whispering in her ear: "Say my name, Isabella."
The bus stop announcement startled her back to reality.
Isabella hastily closed the contract, her fingertips trembling slightly at the document's edge.
This job offer was like a carefully wrapped trap, and the most terrifying thing was that she was finding herself falling into it bit by bit.
Night fell. Isabella stood downstairs from her rented apartment, looking up at the warm light in the window.
She knew tonight she had to make a life-changing decision.
And whichever path she chose, it would inevitably lead toward that dangerous yet captivating man.