Chapter 51
Just as Isabella was about to leave the banquet hall, Parrish's assistant hurried over and bowed respectfully, "Miss, Mr. Graves invites you to join him for dinner. He says there are some details to discuss."
Isabella glanced at Henley, who whispered through the earpiece, "You can trust this, Miss. It's a local custom for business talks."
The private room was tucked away in the most secluded corner of the restaurant, with a heavy oak door blocking out the noise from outside.
A long dining table was covered with a crisp white linen cloth, and silver cutlery gleamed under the candlelight.
Parrish sat at the head of the table, Simon beside him, while Laura and Isabella were seated across from them.
The waiters began serving the dishes.
From the appetizer of burrata cheese with tomatoes to the main course of slow-braised veal shank, every dish was stunningly exquisite.
But Isabella knew the real focus of this meal wasn't the food.
"You know," Simon said casually as he cut into his steak, "my boss Victor was so surprised to hear you're working with Vitale that he nearly spilled his coffee."
He looked up at Isabella, his gaze friendly but curious, "Of course, I won't pry into the details. No need to be nervous."
"I'm not nervous." Isabella replied calmly, setting down her fork, "Mr. Luca and I are friends."
She appeared composed on the outside, but inside, a sweet feeling stirred.
Victor.
He was Vitale's most trusted cousin, and even from faraway Eldoria, he knew about her.
That meant Vitale truly cared about her—cared enough to mention her name within his family.
Halfway through the meal, Laura pulled a folder from her briefcase. "These are the lists of problematic products we've compiled so far, along with the details of the payments we need to recover."
Isabella took the folder, quickly scanned it, and turned to Parrish, "This batch of defective goods needs to be fully returned, and the corresponding payment must be refunded within fifteen working days."
Parrish sipped his red wine and pointed to a young man sitting in the shadows, "You can handle the specifics with my assistant, Art Franklin. He's in charge of all supply chain issues."
The man named Art Franklin looked up from his notebook.
He had striking gray-green eyes, like the sea before a storm.
Isabella noticed that since entering the room, he had been quietly taking notes, almost like an invisible presence.
"Art," Parrish called out, "have you finished coordinating with the factory?"
"It's in progress, sir," Art replied in a gentle, clear voice, "I expect a preliminary report by tomorrow."
Suddenly, Laura lightly tapped Isabella's leg under the table and whispered, "I know Art. He used to be Vitale's assistant. He knows a lot of inside information."
Her cheeks flushed slightly, and her eyes couldn't help but drift toward the quiet Art.
Isabella shook her head.
If she wanted to know about Vitale, she wanted to hear it from him directly.
Those hidden pasts, those deeply buried secrets, those vulnerabilities only revealed in the dead of night when no one was around.
At the end of the dinner, Parrish shook Isabella's hand goodbye, "I look forward to officially working with you, Lorraine. Tell Vitale he's got good taste."
On the ride back, Laura excitedly pulled out her phone, "Check this out! A colleague at the company secretly recorded it."
The video showed the renovation of an office on the top floor of Tyson Group's building.
Half of what used to be Vitale's private area was now separated by a glass partition, with a sleek, modern desk facing a full wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.
What stood out most was that the spot was just a sliding glass door away from Vitale's main office area.
"Your new office," Laura said with a grin, like a cat that got the cream, "Just ten steps from Mr. Luca. If he wants, he can walk over and hug you anytime—right under the bright sunlight."
Isabella stared at the video, imagining herself standing by that window, looking out over the city.
And Vitale, maybe standing behind her, his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her head...
"The stuff you asked me to order has arrived," Laura interrupted her daydream. "Do you need me to help deliver it to Sierra?"
"No, Henley will take care of it," Isabella said, snapping back to reality, "You've worked hard today. Get some rest."
"Honestly, Isabella, I love working with you," Laura said sincerely, "No pointless overtime, no boring busywork. This is real professional teamwork."
"I hate inefficient ways of working too," Isabella smiled, "We're both doing what we're good at, and that's enough."
Isabella and Laura had been here for over a week, and they resolved the factory issues faster than expected. When she boarded the plane, some workers even came to see her off.
By the time they returned to Tyson Group's building, it was already evening.
Isabella walked toward the elevator with Laura's support.
Her high heels made her ankles ache, but what exhausted her more was the day full of social interactions.
"There's something I need to warn you about," Laura said as she pressed the button for the top floor, "Judy Castor. She's our chief PR manager. She comes from the Castor family and has had a crush on Mr. Luca for years."
When the elevator doors opened, Isabella saw Judy.
She stood at the end of the hallway, dressed in a sharp wine-red suit, her blonde hair tied into a flawless bun.
She was talking to an assistant, but her piercing gaze swept over Isabella, sharp as a blade cutting across skin.
"No one in the company likes her," Laura whispered, "But she's definitely the best at PR. She handles all of Mr. Luca's rumors and scandals."
She emphasized the word "scandals" on purpose.
Isabella felt an unexplained tightness in her chest.
She knew what a PR manager's role meant.
That position decided who could stand by Vitale's side, who appeared in his news, and who would be quietly erased.
"But don't worry," Laura said, linking her arm with Isabella's as they walked toward the new office, "Mr. Luca never interacts with her outside of work. In fact…"
She glanced around to make sure the hallway was empty, then lowered her voice, "He keeps his distance from every woman who tries to get close to him. Until he met you."
The moment they pushed open the glass door, Isabella held her breath.
The office was even more beautiful than she'd imagined.
The entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows captured the city's night view, and the modern, minimalist furniture contrasted subtly yet harmoniously with the classic, luxurious style of Vitale's side.
What was most special was the glass wall between the two areas, equipped with a smart frosting system. With just a button, it could switch from transparent to opaque.
"He gave you privacy," Laura said softly.
Isabella walked to the window, her fingertips brushing the cool glass.
From here, she could see Vitale's main office area.
The massive mahogany desk, the family crest on the wall, and the leather armchair he often sat in.
"You know," Laura said, standing beside Isabella, "when Mr. Luca announced that your office would be here, the whole building was shocked. All the women who had a crush on him, who tried to get close to him, or even just fantasized about him—they weren't happy."
"But they had to keep quiet, because everyone can see that you're the person Mr. Luca cares about most right now."