Chapter 52

Chapter 52
After Owen and Chloe left, Avery followed Matteo back to his corner office with its floor-to-ceiling windows and Manhattan skyline view.

"Cappuccino." He handed her a steaming cup, the Italian blend's rich aroma filling the air between them.

"Don't waste your energy getting worked up over idiots like that." Matteo leaned back in his butter-soft leather executive chair, absently twirling a platinum pen between his fingers.

The casual gesture shouldn't have been mesmerizing, but there was something about the fluid grace of his movements, the way the light caught the defined knuckles of his hand.

"I'm not angry," Avery said, taking a deep sip of the coffee. "Just amused. Once I broke free from those love-tinted glasses, I realized the man I thought I loved so deeply was... actually pretty mediocre."

It was the truth. She and Owen had been crazy about each other once. That's why, during their three years of marriage, even when things soured, neither would let go—they just kept hurting each other instead.

What Avery couldn't understand was how quickly a man's heart could change.

"I much prefer this version of you," Matteo said with a lazy smile that did dangerous things to her pulse. "The one who slaps a cheater in public. It suits you better than that innocent act you were putting on before."

His voice was a velvet caress—deep, teasing, magnetic as a perfectly played violin note.

Avery took another sip, letting the rich espresso bloom across her tongue. "I've always been this person. You just hadn't noticed, Mr. Ferrari."

"Is that so?" The way he drew out those three words, with that slight uptick at the end, made something flutter in her stomach.

He studied her with those penetrating eyes. She could feel him noticing how her disdain for Chloe and Owen wasn't just jealousy or hurt pride—it was something more complex, more calculated.

And that discovery seemed to intrigue him.

Matteo stood, his tall frame casting a shadow that enveloped her. The air between them shifted, charged with something unnamed.

"This is my friend's business card," he said, extending a heavy cardstock rectangle. "He runs the most elite divorce attorney team in the city. They specialize in high-stakes separations, and they've never lost a case."

He held her gaze. "If you want out of your current situation, call him. Anytime."

Avery froze, caught off guard by his offer of genuine help rather than mockery.

"Thank you," she murmured, taking the card.

Their fingers brushed—a brief, electric moment of skin against skin. From her position, she could see his black leather half-gloves stretching over his knuckles, accentuating the lean strength of his hands.

In that moment, Avery saw Matteo for what he might truly be: like a butcher who wore gloves not to get blood on his hands. The leather wasn't just about his well-known germaphobia.

Matteo Ferrari was far more complex and dangerous than she had initially assumed.

"I'll consider it," she said, setting down her empty cup and rising to leave.

As soon as Avery returned to her desk, Susan swooped in like a gossip-seeking missile.

"OMG, Avery, what happened in the reception area?" Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I swear I heard crying and shouting."

"Your ears didn't deceive you," Avery replied casually. "Chloe bombed her interview, and Owen tried to use the opportunity to discuss a partnership. But he was too stupid to pull it off."

Avery gave a sanitized version of events, conveniently omitting Matteo's intervention on her behalf. She simply mentioned that Chloe and Owen had gotten exactly what they deserved.

After hearing the story, Susan and the other coworkers gave Avery approving thumbs-up.

"You're my hero!" Susan exclaimed with a wicked grin. "I've been sick of Chloe's two-faced act for ages."

Others nodded in agreement. "Seriously. The nerve of them causing drama in our office. They deserved to get kicked out by Matteo."

Avery found herself smiling. It felt surprisingly good to finally connect with her colleagues.

When she'd worked at Owen's company, despite all her contributions, she'd been deliberately isolated. Owen had seen it happen and always told her to just endure it. Looking back now, she realized it was simply because he didn't love her enough to intervene.

Susan flopped dramatically across her desk with a sigh. "If only we didn't have to pull an all-nighter tonight, this day would be perfect."

"All-nighter?" Avery's brows drew together.

"Yeah, we have a rush order that needs to be delivered to the client ahead of schedule," Susan explained. "Jason was handling it before he got fired, but now it's just one more mess he left behind."

"Let me see the files."

"Sure." Susan passed over a thick folder.

After quickly reviewing the materials, Avery formulated a plan. "It looks like we need to divide and conquer. The timeline is tight, but if we coordinate properly, we should be able to meet the deadline."

Avery immediately developed a work strategy and assigned tasks to different teams, explaining each component with crystal-clear precision.

"Everyone listen up. We're going to tackle this systematically..."

Her colleagues watched with growing respect as she outlined a cohesive approach with confidence and clarity.

The office buzzed with activity—keyboards clicking, phones ringing, the energy of focused teamwork filling the space.

Avery moved between groups, offering guidance while handling her own portion of the project. For the first time since joining Ferrari Designs, she felt that sense of belonging she'd been missing.

---

As night fell, the office remained brightly lit, a beacon of productivity in the darkened building.

Through the slats of his blinds, Matteo observed Avery explaining design specifications to her colleagues.

"This custom order has multiple critical details we need to address. Once the designs are finalized, we'll need the factory to expedite production..."

Her sleeves were rolled up, revealing slender wrists marked with what looked like faint red marks. From his vantage point, Matteo could see the fierce concentration in her eyes—sharp, determined, authoritative.

She was a natural leader. The way she'd managed to build rapport with her colleagues in such a short time and significantly boost productivity spoke volumes about her capabilities.

"She continues to surprise me," Matteo murmured, lifting his coffee cup for a distracted sip.

He froze.

There, on the rim of the cup, was a crimson lipstick print.

It was Avery's cup—the one she'd used earlier. Her scarlet lipstick mark now mingled with his own imprint, like an indirect kiss.

Matteo's throat tightened. He remembered that night—Avery straddling him, kissing him with uninhibited passion.

"I must be losing my mind," he muttered, setting down the cup. His fingertip traced the lipstick stain, and something unfamiliar stirred in his chest. Why was his heart racing like this?

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Mr. Ferrari," Ricci entered, holding a gold-embossed envelope. "Chuck Patterson, the real estate mogul, is hosting a gala two weeks from now. He's sent you an invitation." He approached Matteo's desk respectfully. "Would you like me to decline as usual?"

Ricci carefully watched for Matteo's reaction, knowing his boss typically avoided such social functions.

Matteo's gaze lingered on Avery's figure for a moment before shifting to the invitation in Ricci's hand.

"Accept it," he said, his voice even.

Ricci blinked in surprise, wondering if he'd misheard. "Sir, this event requires you to bring a plus-one."

"I'm aware." Matteo's expression remained impassive, but Ricci could have sworn he caught the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his boss's mouth.

"Very well. I'll arrange for a suitable companion—"

"That won't be necessary," Matteo cut him off. "I already have someone in mind."

He leaned forward slightly. "What you need to do is contact ES's Couture and secure their latest limited-edition gown. Price is no object."

Ricci's eyes widened. The latest ES's Couture masterpiece was a one-of-a-kind creation valued at eight million dollars—the dream of every socialite and celebrity in the country.

"Right away, sir," Ricci replied, struggling to mask his shock.

In all the years he'd worked for Matteo Ferrari, his boss had never shown interest in any woman beyond professional interactions. Whoever this mystery woman was, she must be extraordinary.

As Ricci left to make the arrangements, he couldn't help wondering: who would be on Matteo Ferrari's arm at the biggest social event of the season?