Chapter 26
Isabella took a deep breath and forced herself to straighten her spine.
She could feel every eye in the conference room focused on her, those scrutinizing gazes piercing like needles.
She couldn't let herself be stripped bare here.
This was exactly what Vitale wanted, and he was truly awful.
Sonia had been somewhat right—Vitale's sexual desire, possessiveness, and even his need for control were all very strong. She didn't regret the one-night stand, but that didn't mean this man could control her life.
"Sorry," Isabella's voice was slightly hoarse, her fingers unconsciously adjusting her collar, "I didn't sleep well last night. God knows, lack of sleep always makes me zone out."
A few suppressed chuckles echoed through the conference room, and several executives exchanged meaningful glances.
Isabella noticed that Vitale remained silent the entire time, lounging lazily in his leather chair, his slender fingers lightly tapping the mahogany table.
Because of his silence, no one else dared to question her.
Isabella cleared her throat and forced herself to look directly at everyone present: "I'm Isabella, and I've done in-depth research on your company's business processes and development direction. I believe I'm fully qualified for this position."
As she turned toward the projector, she could feel a burning gaze following her.
Vitale's eyes were like a physical touch, sliding from her slender waist to her full hips.
He remembered that night, how this body had bloomed beneath him, how those soft curves had fit perfectly in his palms.
Memories flooded back like a tide, and Vitale's Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.
That night, moonlight filtered through the curtains, flowing across her smooth back.
He remembered the sensation of his fingertips brushing Isabella's waist, like touching the finest silk.
When she trembled beneath him, her golden hair spread across the pillow like shattered sunlight.
"Look at me, Isabella." Vitale had commanded then, his voice hoarse with desire.
Her deep blue eyes were misty, yet she still bravely met his gaze.
In that moment, Vitale saw not just lust, but an almost devout trust.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, the movement clumsy yet determined.
"Gentle," Isabella panted in his ear, her nails unintentionally leaving red marks on his back.
Vitale slowed his rhythm, feeling every inch of change in her body.
Her curves fit perfectly in his palms, as if she was born to be possessed by him.
When he reached his peak inside her, she bit his shoulder, letting out a muffled whimper.
Afterward, Vitale carried Isabella to the bathroom to clean up.
Warm water ran over the marks on her body, those traces he'd left particularly visible under the lights.
She leaned against him like a satisfied cat.
"Does it hurt?" Vitale gently stroked the red marks on the inside of Isabella's thighs.
She shook her head, burying her face in his neck: "You're gentler than I imagined."
Now, standing in the interview room, Vitale's gaze unconsciously fell on her slender neck.
There had once been his kiss marks there, now covered by a delicate silk scarf.
But Vitale remembered, would always remember, every moment of her in his arms that night.
"Ms. Martinez." He spoke again, his voice carrying a depth only Isabella could understand, "Welcome to Tyson Group."
Her cheeks flushed with that familiar blush, the color that only appeared when she was aroused.
Vitale's lips curved slightly. Good, she hadn't forgotten that night either.
"Damn it." Vitale cursed inwardly.
Just the memory alone made his cock begin to stir, and his tight suit pants suddenly became unbearably uncomfortable.
Vitale calmly crossed his legs, cleverly using his expensive cashmere coat to hide the increasingly obvious bulge.
Isabella was completely oblivious to these undercurrents.
She skillfully pulled up the first document: "While preparing for this interview, I discovered serious problems with one of the company's charitable organizations."
She pressed the remote, and a series of shocking photos appeared on the screen: "Golden Welfare Institute—on the surface, it's helping orphans, but in reality, it's using the children to make huge profits."
Whispers rippled through the conference room.
Amboni frowned as he flipped through the documents in his hand: "What evidence do you have?"
"These are photos I took during undercover visits." Isabella switched slides, "The children are still living in run-down rooms, but the institution's accounts show huge renovation expenses. Even more outrageous..."
She pressed the remote again: "They even put makeup on healthy children, making them pretend to be disabled to get more donations."
Vitale's fingers stopped tapping.
He noticed the light flashing in Isabella's eyes as she presented—a mix of righteousness and professional confidence.
It captivated him.
This made his physical reaction even stronger, and he had to adjust his sitting position slightly.
"This problem has been going on for at least three years," Isabella continued, "and the company allocates over five million dollars to this organization annually."
Fine beads of sweat appeared on Amboni's forehead: "We'll launch an investigation immediately."
"I suggest you investigate this one too." Isabella said, naturally turning to press the next page.
In that instant, her eyes met Vitale's.
To her surprise, his gaze was no longer as aggressive as before, but carried a thoughtful focus instead.
She quickly looked away and pulled up the next set of data: "Additionally, while reviewing the accounts of the company's Lumaria tourist area, I found some unusual fund movements."
Amboni suddenly stood up, his chair making a harsh sound against the floor: "Wait, I'm directly responsible for that project. There shouldn't be any problems—I have a professional team."
"That's exactly the problem." Isabella calmly met his eyes, "Every week, tens of millions of dollars flow in and out under various names, but the actual expenses for scenic area maintenance are less than one-tenth."
Vitale finally spoke, his voice low and steady: "Send me all the information you have."
His gaze lingered on Isabella for a moment, his lips curving into a meaningful smile: "Of course, if you're willing to come to my office to explain in detail, I'd be very grateful."
Amboni leaned close to Vitale, lowering his voice: "Boss, please be cautious. What she's saying hasn't been verified yet. Could this Isabella be using you?"
"Mr. Scott," Isabella suddenly raised her voice, her eyes sharp, "I've never used anyone. Every fact I've stated is supported by solid evidence."
Amboni froze awkwardly in place.
Vitale waved his hand lightly, signaling him to sit down, but his gaze never left Isabella: "What I choose to believe isn't a person, but the data itself."
His voice suddenly turned cold: "So now, Amboni, can you explain why the project you're responsible for shows such unusual fund movements?"
The conference room fell into dead silence.
Standing by the projector, Isabella suddenly realized she'd unwittingly become involved in a power game far more complex than she'd imagined.
And that inscrutable look Vitale gave her made her understand that this interview was far from over.
It was only the beginning.